The Barnes and Sorrentino Funeral Home on the corner of McKinley Street and Hempstead Avenue was still painted that same unremarkable yellow that she remembered. Set slightly back from the road by a small patch of lawn, blooming flower beds lined a cement walkway that led to a dark wood front door. Julia had biked past it maybe a million times while she was growing up, on her way to the library or the bagel store, and she’d always thought it was a doctor or dentist’s office. It wasn’t until her parents were waked there that she realized it was a funeral home.
A light drizzle had begun to fall and she stood for a moment outside in the empty parking lot next to her rental car as memories rushed her. The gas station on the corner she and Andy would fill their bikes up with air at had closed, but the Venus Cafe was still across the street. Every Sunday after church her dad would take the family there for brunch and the best pancakes Julia had ever tasted. In fact, she’d had them the last time she was here in West Hempstead, when Nora and Jimmy had taken everyone in the family for a bite to eat in between the afternoon and evening wake services for her parents. She hadn’t had pancakes since.
Come on, Julia, honey. We can’t be late now. People will be waiting.
An older lady with a stack of teased snow-white hair and ruby lips greeted her as soon as she opened the door, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. ‘Oh my,’ she said, looking past Julia at the parking lot behind her as the door closed. ‘Looks like it’s starting to rain again. Maybe that means spring is coming soon.’ She smiled. ‘Can I help you?’
Julia looked around the dark lobby. ‘I called yesterday. I’m … My name is Julia Cirto. I called about my brother, Andrew Cirto.’
‘Yes. I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I’m Evelyn. Why don’t you come into my office?’
Julia followed Evelyn past a gas-burning fireplace and down the worn red-carpeted hall. What an odd color for a funeral home, she thought. A red carpet. Maybe it was meant to be symbolic. A grand exit from life. You, too, were a somebody! Inside a modest office, Julia took a seat in one of the two paisley wing chairs that were posed perfectly in front of an antique desk. Eveyln took the other.
‘We received the body today from the Medical Examiner’s Office in New York County. We just needed to meet with you to …’ Evelyn hesitated for a second, searching for, Julia assumed, the most delicate word possible, ‘… go over a few things. We have a catalogue that you can look through, or we have—’
Julia shook her head. ‘I, I can’t afford much, Evelyn. There was no insurance, and my brother didn’t, well, he didn’t have any money. But I want him to have something nice. I can spend about five thousand dollars. Can you pick something nice for me?’ She didn’t want to see all the prettier caskets she could have picked, or all the extras she could have had. Just take her money and get this done. She wanted to believe Andy had the best.
Evelyn nodded. She reached over and lightly touched Julia’s knee. ‘Of course. We’ll handle everything.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’m curious. You’re from Florida, and your brother died in Manhattan. Why did you choose Barnes and Sorrentino? Are there other relatives here in West Hempstead or on the Island? Is there any bulletin you would like us to notify?’
Julia looked around the tiny office. One small window faced the parking lot. She could see that the rain was coming down harder now, forming deep puddles on the uneven asphalt. She remembered trick-or-treating up the block, and walking to Echo Park Pool. ‘I used to live in West Hempstead. My brother and I both did. We grew up here, a couple of blocks away, on Maple. It was the only funeral home I knew,’ she said absently. She looked down at her lap. ‘My parents both had their services here.’
‘Oh my,’ said Eveyln. ‘When was that?’
Julia shook her head. ‘A long time ago,’ was all she offered.
‘Oh,’ Evelyn said again. ‘Well, we’ll make sure that everything is taken care of. Now, about the wake. When would you like to have the services, over one day or two?’
‘No, I don’t need a wake. There’s just me,’ she replied quickly, her voice a whisper. ‘There won’t be anyone else. No one here knows my brother anymore.’
‘Oh,’ said Evelyn again. She looked out the door down the hall. ‘I’m not so sure about that. We did get a flower delivery today. We put them in Chapel A.’
‘That must have been mine.’ She bit her lip. ‘Everyone deserves flowers, Evelyn.’
‘Okay,’ replied Evelyn, slowly. She rose from her seat. ‘Let me show you the room, then, for the service, if you decide to have it here.’
‘We’re Catholic. I think I’m going to have it at St Thomas.’
They walked down the hall in silence. Outside the room designated as Chapel A, a black magnetic board encased in glass read ‘Andrew J. Cirto’ in small, white letters. In two days or so, Julia knew the letters would be switched around to read someone else’s name. Evelyn opened one of the double doors and Julia closed her eyes.
You don’t have to look if you don’t want to, Munch. The caskets will be closed.
Please, don’t honey. Don’t look, little one. That’s something you don’t need to see. You don’t want to remember her that way.
‘As you can see, it was a rather large delivery. We had to put them all in here,’ Evelyn said.
Julia opened her eyes. The room was filled with hundreds and hundreds of white peonies.