As Jennifer pulled up to Peter’s house, she saw an older woman emerging from a cab. She pulled up behind the taxi, paid the fare for Angel’s mother then waited on the sidewalk for Angel, who came down the walk less than a minute later.
On their short ride to the hospital Jennifer did her best to keep the conversation flowing by asking Angel about her pregnancy. Angel happily chatted on about how excited she and Peter were about the new baby. Pulling up the Emergency Room entrance, Jennifer said, “Please let me know about Peter as soon as you can.”
“Thank you, I will.” With a little wave, Angel disappeared through the automatic doors and into the hospital.
Jennifer drove straight to Williams Funeral Home, worrying about the widow and the pallbearer which made her wonder again if she really should consider a career change. Am I cut out for this, she wondered. Owning my own funeral home?
She pulled into the parking lot just in time to see Althea, the owner’s wife, emerge from her vehicle. Jennifer’s heart sank. When she had agreed to cover the funeral home for Althea’s ailing husband, Dimitri, she’d assumed it would be business as usual. The interment today did not go well. What would Althea think of her now?
Putting on a brave face, she greeted Althea, “How is Dimitri?”
Althea beamed. “Dimitri, he is doing well thank you. He is going home with nurse soon.” Jennifer smiled at her. Althea was clearly happy about the positive turn of events. She was thinking in Greek and speaking English which always caused her to jumble her words slightly.
“I’m so glad to hear that,” Jennifer said warmly as she opened the funeral home door for her. Althea dropped her coat and bag in the front office.
“I will meet you downstairs,” she said.
“OK.” Jennifer walked went down as she heard Althea opening desk drawers, her dread of having to tell Althea about the day’s events made her stomach clench. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, light headed.
Detective Sergeant Gillespie sat next to Marcia in the lounge. The two of them were deep in conversation when Jennifer entered.
“Pull up a chair,” said Marcia. “We must debrief.”
Detective Sergeant Gillespie couldn’t keep the grin off his face.
“When the dispatch office called me I thought you two were involved in some kind of attack,” he said. “A two-ambulance response at a graveside service?”
“Stop,” groaned Marcia. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s very funny,” said Ryan. “Only the two of you could get yourselves into so much trouble. You should have heard the chatter on the ambulance band.”
Jennifer knew the ambulance and police were not being disrespectful, it was part of a day’s work. It must have been a strange call to respond to, three down in a graveyard.
“Someday we will laugh about this,” said Jennifer. “Just not today.”
“Or tomorrow,” said Marcia glumly. She got down to the debriefing. “I ordered another casket for Mr. Werther,” said Marcia. A chuckle emanated from Detective Sergeant. It threatened to erupt into a full-blown laugh. Marcia poked him. It didn’t help. She soldiered on. “I’ll make sure the bill covers the cost of the casket and I’ll remove the charges for the graveside service.”
Little snorts of laughter kept escaping Ryan. “I believe you meant caskets,” he responded. Marcia did her best to ignore him.
“It’s my fault,” said Jennifer unhappily. “I was in the lead car. I should have checked the grave set-up.”
Marcia looked at Jennifer bleakly.
“Should we call Mr. Duncan?”
“I don’t know,” Jennifer voice came just short of a whisper. She really didn’t know what to do.
Ryan stepped in. “No, you don’t have to call Mr. Duncan unless the family sues, which I doubt they will do. When Mr. Whitney went on the offensive and criticized your choice of career, he was just being a bully. He knew his crew messed up. It was his responsibility. You didn’t break any laws, no one suffered irreparable bodily harm, except maybe Peter.”
“How is Peter,” asked Marcia. “Did you check on him?”
“No. I picked Angel up and took her to meet him.”
As Althea entered the room, Ryan stood. Jennifer made the introductions. Ryan shook her hand and sat down. He was in no hurry to leave.
“How are things?” asked Althea, her heavy accent made the word things sound like thinks.
Marcia spoke up. “We had a bad day, Althea.”
“How so?”
Marcia told her the whole story. Detective Sergeant Gillespie settled back in his chair and folded his arms. Althea didn’t interrupt once.
When Marcia finished, Althea looked at Ryan. “You were there too?”
“No, no,” he said pleasantly, “not right away, not until after the ambulances left.” He chuckled.
Althea started to laugh, until it evolved into full-blown merriment and howls. Ryan joined in. Jennifer and Marcia stared at the two of them, looking from one to another, the bewilderment written on their faces.
A couple of time Althea attempted to speak, but the laughter took precedence. Wiping her eyes, she finally composed herself.
“You girls, you so young,” she said. “It is not disaster. Dimitri, he tells you stories. Bill, he told stories. You laugh. It’s not end of the world. Peter though, he is OK?”
“We don’t know yet,” Jennifer said miserably.
“We have insurance for these things. Peter is young, he will bounce back,” said Althea.
“Exactly,” said Ryan. He and Althea nodded at each other and smiled.
Jennifer rose, wanting to make her escape. “I have to get back to Spencer’s.” She was starting to feel the effect of the emotional drain from the day’s events.
“Wait, Jennifer” said Althea. “I will talk to Marcia later. I need to see you first.” Linking her arm in Jennifer’s Althea took her upstairs. She pulled a large brown envelope from the tote bag she had placed in the front office. “Dimitri will see you in two, three days. You will come?”
“Where shall we meet?”
“We meet at hospital. Dimitri has his own room now. OK?”
“What time?” Jennifer tightened her grip on the envelope.
“I text you. Now you go and relax. It is not the end of the world.” She patted Jennifer on the back gently, then turned to go back downstairs.
Jennifer walked out to her car and drove straight to Spencer Funeral Home.
After the day’s events it was a relief to be back. She wanted to hide. I wonder what Uncle Bill would have said about today? she mused. If he’s looking down now, is he sorry he left the funeral home to me?
Elaine had left a note on Jennifer’s desk to tell her she’d hired a receptionist for Williams Funeral Home. Desta would be starting tomorrow morning. At least something went right today, she thought.
The theme from Rocky startled her. It was Peter’s ringtone. I hope this isn’t bad news.
“Hello, Peter? Angel?”
“Hi Jennifer, it’s Angel. Just letting know what’s going on. Peter had an x-ray, then a CT scan of his foot. He has four metatarsal fractures and a fracture of the tibia, apparently as a result of him twisting too quickly. The surgeon is going to put pins in his foot. They’re waiting for a free operating room.”
“Oh dear,” distress added extra weight to her words. She leaned back in her chair, twirling a stray strand of hair that escaped.
“He is not in too much pain. They’ve given him drugs. He said you’re not to worry about him, he’ll be fine.”
“I’ll ask Elaine to start the paperwork for the insurance company. Is there anything you need?”
“No thanks. I’ll go home after he gets back from the recovery room.”
“I can pick you up.”
“No need. Peter’s mother is coming, she can run me back and forth. It’s not the first time Peter’s had surgery for broken bones. Irene said he gave her more than a few sleepless nights in his youth.”
“Thanks for calling. All the staff is worried about him.”
“I’ll call tomorrow morning. Bye.”
Jennifer disconnected and then hit speed dial.
Answering on the first ring, Marcia said, “how is Peter?” before Jennifer could even say hi.
“Angel called.” Jennifer relayed the details of the pending surgery.
“That’s awful. Just horrible.”
“I do have some good news though. You have a new receptionist. She can start tomorrow.”
“Wow, that is good news. Great news actually.”
“Her name is Desta. She’ll be in at nine. I’ll fax over her resume. You and Althea will be more than pleased. Some more resumes came in today from funeral directors, so I’ll work on those this evening. What are you doing for dinner?”
“Ryan and I are going out. Unless, of course, one of us gets a call for work.”
“I can cover the evening for you.”
“Awesome, thanks Jen. I’ll tell the answering service.”
“Tomorrow is another day,” Jennifer said in her Scarlett O’Hara voice. “Enjoy your evening.” She tapped the off button on her phone.
Jennifer glanced at her texts before pocketing her cell. Gwen, her good friend since their teens, had sent her a text earlier in the day asking if she was free to go shopping. She replied, apologizing for not getting back to her.
Don’t apologize, Gwen responded. Know U R busy. We R all fine. Off to my daughter’s dance recital. Should B good 4 a few laughs. U OK?
Perfect, Jennifer lied in her text back. She wasn’t perfect, but she wasn’t down for the count either and she didn’t see the point of complaining about it. Have fun tonight!
She pocketed her phone, picked up the tea cups and ran the hot water in the sink. For the first time since the graveside incident she felt grounded. The warm water and the bubbles soothed her frayed nerves. She took her time, enjoying the task and the peace and quiet. She was stiff and sore from the unexpected heavy lifting, getting the casket back to the funeral home. Tomorrow morning, once the new casket had been delivered, they’d be going back to the graveside again. She’d make sure they had help.
After drying the cups, Jennifer went to her office to check the resumes that had come in. Both were from experienced directors. She decided to check their references before making contact them. An hour later she knew which candidate made the short list—Brent Vaughn. He’d been licensed for ten years, had excellent references, and his Board check was clean. She decided to call him in for an interview.
He answered on the second ring.
“Brent speaking.”
“Mr. Vaughn, Jennifer Spencer from Spencer Funeral Home. I’m calling about your application.”
“Ms. Spencer, delighted to hear from you.”
Jennifer liked his voice and tone. Things were looking up, perhaps with the hiring of Desta and the potential to hire Mr. Vaughn the day would end on a positive note.
“Can you tell me a bit about yourself?”
“Call me Brent,” he said pleasantly. “I’m 6’1” or 185 cm, 180 lbs or 81 kg, have brown eyes, brown hair. I like dogs and kids and I have two of each.”
Jennifer chuckled and sat back in her chair. Brent was making the call easy for her with his gentle humour.
“My wife and I want to get out of the city and settle near a town on a little plot of land. When I was a child I wanted to grow up to be a funeral director, my friends thought I was crazy and it would never happen. I proved them wrong. I couldn’t have any career other than this one. Oh—my wife’s name is Julie and she’s a legal assistant. That’s about it or is that TMI?”
“It’s perfect. Niagara is a great place to live and raise a family. Let me tell you about the position. William’s Funeral Home is currently under the supervision of me and my staff while the owner recovers from major surgery. We are in the process of hiring a director for him. We just hired a receptionist.”
“Sound’s like you lost a few people?” said Brent warily.
“More like fired a few. Dimitri, the owner, is ill. A few of his staff took advantage of his absence. We fired the director, who had been licensed less than a year. He’ll be facing the Board for disciplinary action. The receptionist had no training or skills. It was a train wreck. Dimitri would never have let it get to that state had he been well. He’s been the number one funeral home in the area for years and my goal is to get it back to that position for him with the right staff.”
“Sound intriguing,” said Brent.
“Are you able to come down for an interview? We could talk, you could explore the area, visit the falls, look at housing options.”
“I would be delighted. I can get away anytime.”
“What’s good for you?”
“Tomorrow or the next day?” asked Brent.
“Could we meet at William’s Funeral home at 10 a.m. the day after tomorrow?”
“We could indeed. I look forward to it. Nice speaking with you Ms. Spencer.”
“And you too, Brent. Have a good evening, see you soon.” They disconnected. She had a good feeling about him.
She picked up the envelope Althea had given her, closed up the funeral home for the evening, and headed upstairs to her apartment. As usual, Grimsby sat waiting by the door, having heard her come up the stairs.
“Hi, bud!” As she picked him up, he settled in her arms and purred. Dropping the envelope on the table she sat on the couch and released Grimsby, who wasn’t ready for his mistress to stop scratching behind his ears. She idly complied, mentally reviewing the events of the day, feeling the need to put it all behind her. The stress had taken away her appetite; she didn’t feel like dinner. Starting her bath, she relaxed in the bubbles until she felt her eyelids getting heavy. Sleep didn’t elude her, she barely remembered going to bed.