Love and Neckties - Lacey Black Page 0,68

a lot to take all at once.” There’s a pain in his voice, but I know it’s only because he speaks the truth. He’s as anal as they come, so me painting all his stuff is probably a hard pill for him to swallow.

I should have realized that before I did it.

“How about we make a deal,” he starts, running his nose along my forehead and sliding his fingers in my hair. “You can make small, subtle changes while you’re here, but you have to run them by me first, okay? And maybe, start in the guest room?” he says with a chuckle.

Smiling, I reply, “You got it, Sammy. I’ll make sure to ask before I buy the purple bath towels I was looking at and the black light for your bedroom.”

He stiffens around me. “Black light?”

“You know, all the rage back in the day. You can write messages on the walls and then when you turn on the light, the messages appear. I remember we used them in the compound every once in a while. I’m pretty sure the names on Master Leonard’s wall was his sex list, but I tried not to look at it when I went in to gather his laundry. He always left on his black light.”

“That’s…gross.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I brought home dinner,” he finally says, kissing my forehead. “Why don’t we run and get cleaned up and then we can eat.”

“Sounds good. I’m ravenous.”

And not just for food…

***

The days fly by and before I know it, another week has passed. I’ve made very few changes to Samuel’s house, little almost unnoticeable changes, as to not cause him any additional stress. Elma hasn’t been well for more than a week, but insists on going in every day, even though her son, Robert, as well as Samuel have tried to convince her to go home. Personally, I think she’s just tired. The woman has been working that funeral business for decades, and what she really needs is some R&R.

Samuel is working nonstop, putting in late hours at visitations and going in early to prepare for the funerals. It’s all part of the man he is, the one I’ve fallen in love with. He’s driven and committed, giving more of himself than required to make sure the job is done well, and right. He’s so dedicated to his job, but it’s hard to watch him wear himself completely out.

That’s why I’m stopping in for lunch. I have a basket full of fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, green beans, and rolls. I purchased some additional veggie kabobs for me and even some fresh, warm peach cobbler for dessert.

The low hum of a buzzer sounds when I enter the funeral home. I was grateful not to find extra cars in the lot, so I’m not interrupting funeral planning or something. That would be embarrassing.

Before the door is closed behind me, Samuel appears from the office. “Freedom?” he asks, concern written all over his face. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yeah, fine,” I tell him, holding up my basket of goodies. “I brought lunch.”

“Lunch?” He seems completely perplexed by this scenario.

“Yep, you know, food? I thought you could take a few minutes and eat a good meal,” I state as I breeze by him and enter the office. “Oh, Elma, you look absolutely stunning in that shade of blue. It’s definitely your color,” I tell the older woman, as I set my bags down on the floor in front of her desk.

Elma grins and stands, her cheeks flushed and a tired look to her green eyes. “Why, thank you, dear.”

“You know, Miss Elma, a little birdy has told me you’ve been putting in long hours again,” I say, as I come around to her side of the desk. Before she can open her mouth, I continue, “And for someone who has given her blood, sweat, and tears to this business, I think you deserve a break.”

“Oh, uhhhh…”

“That’s why I brought you a gift! It’s a care kit I put together with you in mind,” I tell her, bringing the bag up to her desk. “I have lavender and vanilla scented candles for relaxation, some rose and jasmine soaps and bath products, rich in essential oils, and a calming CD with soothing sounds of nature.”

“Wow,” Elma replies, grinning from ear to ear as she gapes inside the bag of goodies. “I don’t know what to say.”

I wave my hand dismissively. “You don’t have to say a word. This is Samuel’s and