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It was six thirty the next morning when I arrived at the funeral home, and both Jack and Janet were already there. I found them in the coffee room. “Why are you two in so early?”
They looked at each other and smiled. “How do you think shit gets done around here, boy?” Jack said. “We can’t mosey in at eight like normal people and expect the world to cooperate.”
Then Janet turned to me and said, “The phone’s been ringing nonstop since I walked in at six. Looks like people are just finding out about your father, so we should expect a full day of calls and visits, even though visitation isn’t until tomorrow.”
“Got it,” I said, and headed for Dad’s office.
This time it took me only five minutes to find the right key to the closet. I opened the door and pulled the chain on the light. I went to the top shelf where I thought the most recent notebooks were. The diary writing tailed off starting in 2015. There were twelve notebooks for 2014, eight for 2015, and six for 2016. I could only find two for 2017.
I pulled out the 2017 notebooks and prepared for a full review. They were unlike the diaries I’d found from previous years. In these, Dad skipped days at a time and generally only posted about picking up bodies or visitations or funerals that interested him in some way. The death calls he detailed were the most interesting, and I appreciated his writing style.
Janet buzzed me from her office. It was a call from Uncle Dan.
“Hey, son,” Dan said. “There’s a luncheon of the downtown city leaders today. The group is called the Sandusky Alliance—SA for short. Your father helped create it. Anyway, I’d like you to join us today.”
“Sure, I guess,” I said. “You don’t think I’d be out of place?”
“No, no. Not at all,” Dan said. “If you decide to take over the funeral home, they’ll probably want you in the group anyway. It’s good timing.”
“Okay,” I said. Dan gave me the location and I told him I’d see him there.
Sitting at my dad’s desk, I tried to think what he would do during this portion of the day if he were still alive. When I was younger and used to follow him around the funeral home, one of his main activities was walking around the place and talking to all the employees. He would see how they were doing and ask them questions, both business and personal. I remember him telling me, Will, a true leader never hides in his office. A leader needs to be visible. A leader needs to care about his employees. And you have to be consistent about it. You have to get out there every day and talk to them.
My first stop? To see how Sam was doing. I found her in the embalming room.
“So, how was your meeting last night?”
“I’m not sure we’re at a point where I can talk about my after-dinner meetings with you,” Sam said.
“You’re right. Sorry I brought it up,” I said. “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about the funeral home for a few minutes.”
“That’s fine,” she said, looking at Mr. Davies, who was completely naked lying on a working table. In looking at him from this perspective, I had no idea how Jack and I pulled him off the toilet. “I don’t think Mr. Davies is going anywhere at the moment.”
“I could use a refill,” I said, looking into my cup. “How about we go upstairs to the kitchen?”
In the kitchen, Sam began looking at the different coffee flavors, and I closed the kitchen door. I didn’t want anyone to listen in at the moment. While Sam’s coffee brewed, I leaned back against the sink.
“I’ll get right to the point, Sam. I haven’t made a decision yet, but I’m still considering whether to take over Dad’s business. And I know exactly what that means for you.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. My brain kept telling me to take the money and run, especially for Jess’s sake, but something in my gut told me that was the wrong decision. “Now, I don’t want this to seem like an ultimatum, because it definitely isn’t, but I’ll only do this if you decide to stay. If you tell me that you can’t work with me, I’m not going to do it.”
Sam poured some half-and-half into her cup and had a seat at the kitchen table while I popped a breakfast blend into the Keurig. “It certainly sounds like an ultimatum, a weird one, but an ultimatum, nonetheless. You’re making your decision completely dependent on what I decide to do?”
“You should be flattered,” I said.
“Oh, grow a pair, Will,” she said. “You need to make this decision independent of what I do. That’s what your father would want you to do.”
I took a seat across the table from Sam. “I’m not so sure of that, Sam. You’re the best there is at what you do, and outside of being good with people and understanding the mechanics of the funeral business, I don’t know shit. I’ve looked at the reports. I’ve looked at the numbers. There might be some things I can do to turn this around, but you run the core business. There are some things that are going to need to happen quickly around here, but none of that can happen if I have to find a new embalmer who can’t do half the things you do.”
Sam looked down at her coffee. “This is not ten years ago when I helped get your marketing business off the ground. Now I love what I do and don’t want to stop by any means. I know I’m good at it and it’s truly meaningful work, but how do I know you won’t take the business and screw everyone over.”
Sam always knew how to get to the point quickly.
“Honestly, you don’t. I might come in here and screw it up. Since we split up, I’ve been getting help. It’s a daily grind, but as long as I focus on the right things, go to the meetings, ask for help when I need it, I’m beating this thing. Could I lose it? Yes. Do I think I will? No.” We both sat in silence. “How about this, Sam? Just give me a month. Thirty days is all I ask. After that, you and I talk. If you aren’t happy, I walk.”
Sam stared into my eyes. Then she stood to walk out, stopped, and looked back at me. “Okay,” she said and left the room.