It wasn’t a large funeral. Had Brian’s ex-wife not slapped her face, Heather might suggest she and Brian move up a few pews, since there was no one else sitting on the pew with them, or behind them, and the rows in front of them were sparsely populated. But she had no desire to move up closer to the psycho ex.
Heather attributed the low attendance to the fact Homer Carter’s family only included two nieces and a nephew, two of whom had never lived in Frederickport, and she imagined many of his friends had already passed away. Plus, he had been living in isolation for years because of his illness.
She watched as Pastor Chad walked down the aisle with Camilla. When passing their row, Camilla glared her way. For a moment Heather wondered if the woman might stop and start hitting her again, but Pastor Chad put his arm around Camilla’s shoulder and gently nudged her along. When they finally reached the front pew, Camilla sat down with her brother and sister, while Flora sat in the pew behind them.
Pastor Chad walked to the podium to begin the service. Homer continued to stand by his casket. Marie, who had been sitting near Heather a moment earlier, repeatedly apologizing for getting Heather slapped, was currently pew hopping, moving from place to place, eavesdropping on conversations. Heather assumed that now that Pastor Chad was beginning the service, Marie would stop moving around and return to her pew. She glanced over to the casket, and Homer disappeared.
“I’m sorry my niece slapped you,” a voice told Heather. Glancing to her left, Heather looked into the face of Homer Carter. The ghost sat next to her in the pew where Marie had been sitting minutes earlier.
Heather smiled at the ghost and whispered, “She doesn’t like me.”
Brian looked at Heather and whispered, “Are you talking to Marie?”
“No. The guest of honor,” Heather explained.
Brian arched his brows and leaned forward, looking at what appeared to be an empty spot on the pew next to Heather, and whispered, “Hello, Carter.”
“He can see me too?”
Heather grinned. “No. But he understands you’re there.”
“I wanted to tell you how sorry I am that you had to spend your final years the way you did,” Brian whispered to Carter. “I always liked and respected you.”
“Tell Brian the feelings are mutual. As for the final years, yeah, they kinda sucked. But nobody’s fault. It is what it is.”
After Heather repeated Homer’s words, Brian leaned back in the pew and turned his attention back to Pastor Chad, listening to the memorial.
Since no one was in the pew in front of her or behind her, Heather wasn’t overly concerned someone might overhear her conversation with Homer. She just needed to whisper. And since all heads were turned to the front of the church, she doubted anyone would notice her seemingly talking to herself.
“I introduced them, you know,” Carter told Heather. “Never knew they had problems.”
“You never know what goes on behind closed doors,” Marie said when she suddenly appeared next to Carter.
“Hello, Marie,” Heather greeted.
“How is your cheek, dear? I’m so sorry for getting you slapped.”
“Oh, I forgive you. It was sweet of you to try to protect my honor. Anyway, I totally understand wanting to give someone a good smack when they bug you. After all, I’ve been working on not doing that anymore.”
Carter eyed Heather up and down. “In that hospital room, when I first saw you, you said you were Brian’s girlfriend. I was sure I had misunderstood.”
“I still don’t understand how you were still alive and talking to Brian. But then, well, you were there, another you. Also talking away.”
“There is a great deal I also don’t understand. For example, I couldn’t quite see you as Brian’s girlfriend. But then Marie explained everything.” Homer smiled.
“She did?”
Homer nodded.
“I told him about your little misadventure in the mountains,” Marie explained.
“Brian is a good man,” Homer said. “All that I care about is that he’s happy. My niece hurt him. I regret ever playing matchmaker those many years ago.”
“Your niece is moving back to Frederickport,” Heather told Homer.
“Yes. I know. That’s another regret, how I wrote my will.”
“Why?”
“Because Camilla moving back to town is already causing problems with her brother and sister. I’ve been over to the house, checking in on things. Ted and Lucy want to sell. I don’t blame them. They each have their own lives. And I’m afraid the slap my niece gave you isn’t the only problem she’s going to give you.”
Heather frowned. “Why’s that?”
Before answering, Homer leaned forward and took another look at Brian, whose attention was fully on Pastor Chad. Homer leaned back and looked at Heather. “Because my niece regrets her divorce. She wants Brian back.”
“Really?” Heather and Marie chorused.
“They’ve been divorced for ten years,” Heather reminded him.
Homer shrugged. “I suspect things didn’t work out the way Camilla thought they would.”
“You mean her life after she left Brian?” Heather asked.
“Yes. I never understood why she left him in the first place. I always felt they were happy. Maybe she was going through some mid-life crisis. I suppose women can have them too.” Homer gave another shrug.
“And she thinks she can just show up after ten years and Brian will welcome her back?” Marie asked.
“Apparently she does.” Homer looked at Heather. “But she wasn’t expecting someone like you. She’s convinced herself you must be someone Brian hired to make her jealous.”
“Seriously?” Heather frowned.
Homer nodded. “When I stopped in to see how they were doing, she was on the phone talking to someone, probably her old roommate, because they were discussing shipping the rest of her things here. She mentioned you. Told her friend Brian hired someone to pretend to be his girlfriend. She said he did it so she wouldn’t know he was still alone and to make her a little jealous.”
Marie gave a snort. “She actually thought Brian would hire someone who looked like Heather to play his girlfriend?”
Heather narrowed her eyes at Marie. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Think about it, dear.”
Heather let out a sigh. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
* * *
Nine-year-old Zack Bowman clutched the box of toys, refusing to budge from where he stood until his mother agreed to include the box with the items the family planned to take to Frederickport with them.
“I already explained,” Debbie patiently told her son. “We are not taking everything now. But if we end up moving to Frederickport, we’ll bring the rest of our things. Think of this as a vacation.”
“If it’s a vacation, does this mean we don’t have to do schoolwork?” Zack’s twin, Eric, asked his mother.
Debbie looked at Eric and shook her head. “It’s not that kind of vacation.”
“If we end up moving to Frederickport, can we go to the school there?” Eric asked.
“Why would moving mean no homeschool?” Debbie asked.
“How are we going to meet other kids?” Zack asked. “Franky said if we move to a new town, the only way to meet other kids is at a public school.” Franky was a neighbor boy whose mother’s low opinion on homeschooling spilled over to her son’s conversations with the twins. Debbie tried to dissuade the boys’ friendship, but they had known each other since they had been in diapers, back when she and Franky’s mother were still friends, and before the boys started school. The neighbor had sent Franky off to public school while Zach and Eric stayed home with her to be homeschooled.
“Your aunt told me the current police chief has a ten-year-old son. I’m sure you can be friends with him. And then he can introduce you to more boys,” Debbie suggested.
“Isn’t Dad taking his job?” Eric asked.
“Yes, just for a few months while he recovers from surgery. But if your father decides he likes it there, then the current police chief will probably retire. But we don’t need to talk to anyone about that. That’s family business. And what do I tell you about family business?”
“Family business stays in the family,” Zack and Eric chorused.
Debbie smiled and gave her sons a nod. “Exactly.”
“Why wouldn’t Dad like it?” Zack asked.
Debbie shrugged. “We probably will stay.”
Zack stomped his right foot. “Then why can’t I take all my stuff?”
Her cellphone ringing in another room of the house saved Debbie from having to answer the question. She told her sons to finish their math assignment, and then she dashed from the boys’ bedroom to answer her phone.
* * *
“How’s the packing going?” the caller asked.
Debbie held the phone by her ear and plopped down on her living room sofa. “It would be much easier if I could ship the boys off somewhere while I’m doing it. It’s one time I wish I had put them in a public school. Of course, then it would make this move more complicated.”
“I wish I could be there to help you.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Debbie glanced to the hallway leading to her boys’ room. She heard screaming, but she blocked it out, focusing on the phone call.
“I wanted to tell you, I went to Homer Carter’s funeral this morning,” the caller told Debbie.
“I imagine she was there.”
“All three of them were.”
Debbie kicked off her slippers and pulled her feet up on the sofa. “Weird he would die now.”
“Why is that weird? He was old and sick for ages.”
“I just mean him dying right before we’re coming to town. A reason for her to show up. All those times we visited, I never worried about seeing her. But I suppose there shouldn’t be a problem. I can’t imagine she’ll still be there when we arrive next week. There’s no reason for her to stick around. And with her uncle dead, no reason for her to come back to Frederickport.”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. I heard at the funeral that she intends to stay. She’s moving into her uncle’s house.”
Debbie sat upright, moving her feet back onto the floor. She clutched the phone to her ear. “You’re not serious?”
“I’m afraid so. I wanted to warn you.”
Debbie frowned. “She doesn’t know we’re coming back to Frederickport, does she?”
“I doubt it. She’s only been in town a couple of days. And it’s not common knowledge about MacDonald having surgery and taking off for a few months. In fact, no one asked us about it when we were at the funeral. I even ran into Millie Samson there, and she never said a word about MacDonald.”
“From what I remember, Millie always seemed to know what was going on in town.” Debbie snorted.
“But Millie told me something interesting. Apparently, there was some sort of physical altercation at the funeral between Camilla and her ex-husband’s new girlfriend. I didn’t see it, and neither did Millie. But one of her friends told her about it.”
“Brian was at the funeral?” Debbie asked.
“Yes. And he brought his girlfriend with him.”
“What happened with Camilla and the girlfriend?”
“First, the girlfriend is much younger than Brian. Much younger.”
Debbie laughed.
“From what Camilla told Millie, the girlfriend physically attacked her.”
“What did Camilla do?” Debbie asked.
“She slapped her. And then Brian started screaming at her.”
“Who did he scream at? The girlfriend or ex-wife?”
“The ex-wife. He didn’t believe his girlfriend hit Camilla.”
“What did Millie say about all this?”
“I guess Millie knows the girlfriend. She used to volunteer at the museum, and while she could be a little outspoken, Millie didn’t believe she would hit Camilla unprovoked.”