Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Pretty sure any funeral home would do the same.
Wait. Is that his subtle hint he’d like me to get lost?
“Well, I hope you’re prepared for a parking lot full of Harleys, loud men, and a shoot-out or two,” Abby says, her gaze shifting between Dad and me.
“There ain’t gonna be no shoot-out, Abigail,” Ulfric sighs. “Stop trying to scare the Cedarwoods. But there will be a lot of bikers in attendance. Some from different clubs.”
I shoot a glance at my dad, and he lifts one eyebrow. Does he think dating Jigsaw means I’m the outlaw biker whisperer or something?
“We can certainly handle any…delicate relationships,” I assure Ulfric without revealing my personal involvement with the local motorcycle club. “It shouldn’t be a problem. But if you prefer, we can add security—”
“Nah, we got a good relationship with the dominant club in the area. Their enforcer was Whisper’s business partner for years.”
Huh. How about that.
“Dominant club,” Abby mimics with a nasty sneer stretched across her burgundy-painted lips. “Jesus Christ, you’re all still so ridiculous. No one owns upstate New York. I don’t need permission from a bunch of boys in leather to bury my father.”
Ulfric takes in a long slow breath. A prickling sensation travels down my neck. Like if my dad and I weren’t here to witness it, Ulfric’s friendly Grandpa veneer might melt, and he’d smack the attitude right out of Abby. “It’ll be handled. You focus on your family, Abigail.”
“I plan to.” She rips her purse open and yanks a long cream-colored envelope out. “Dad had a list of demands…requests that he wanted for his funeral.” Abby’s gaze skips between my father and me.
“We’re more than happy to handle any special requests Mr. Hall might have had.” I sit forward and hold out my hand. She flicks a glance at my father in a going once, twice sort of way, then hands it to me.
“We already had a plan worked out with your father.” Dad taps the glossy white folder in front of him. “Is that list dated?”
I pull out a thick sheet of cream paper and unfold it, reading the date to my dad.
He nods once. “I’ll have you compare the list to what’s in here and we’ll adjust as necessary.” Dad tilts his head toward Ulfric. “Mr. Hall already pre-paid a portion of our fee.”
“Of course he did,” Abby grumbles.
She should be thankful her father thought ahead. I bite my tongue from lecturing her about how many families we see who have no arrangements, slim finances, and leave the burden of sorting it out to their loved ones.
I run my gaze over the list from Mr. Hall.
Music: Led Zepplin
Coffin: shiny, black with black leather accents and silver hardware. Wolf Knights MC engraving.
Flowers: black and silver arrangements.
Transportation: Harley Davidson Hearse Funeral Chopper.
Traditional biker funeral.
My questioning gaze lifts, catching my father’s attention. “I’m not sure if we’ll be able to accommodate all of these requests, but we’ll do our best.”
“The Harley coffin trailer?” Abby snorts. “Fuck it. Do whatever’s safest, even if it’s not on his list. I don’t want his coffin hitting the pavement and his body rolling out before we get him in the ground.”
Horror shivers over my chest. A catastrophe of that nature would ruin our reputation if not bankrupt us. Great. New nightmare unlocked. Thanks, Abby.
“Whisper could be dramatic when he wanted to be,” Ulfric says with a sad but fond smile. “Keep safety in mind. But money isn’t a concern.”
Sure, people say that all the time. Right up until we present them with the bill. “The funeral chopper will be our biggest logistical challenge. I’ll research our options and consult with you.” I glance at Ulfric, then Abby. Although, if Ulfric’s paying, he’s the one my dad will go to for approval on any expenses.
With the number of specific requests Mr. Hall has it’s going to take more time than usual to plan the funeral. I try to say that as gently as possible without sounding like I’m being critical.
“The custom casket with the engraving may take one to two weeks,” I say. “I’ll reach out to our supplier immediately.”
“We have something here I can show you,” my father says to Ulfric. “It may be close to what you want and then we can have an engraved piece added.”
“That sounds good.”
Flowers might take longer if the florist needs to order special dye but not as long as the custom casket. Damn, I bet that funeral chopper will require an extra permit. If I can even get my hands on one.
“As I said, there will be a lot of bikers in attendance.” Ulfric shifts his big body and rests his ankle on the opposite knee. “We like to escort our brother in our traditional biker procession.”
More special permits and probably an escorted road closure or two.