Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Poor Mrs. O’Leary. I only met her a few times when Daniel and I were engaged, but she was always kind to me. I want to do my best for her. To give her a proper final viewing.
As I enter the office, Daniel stands and steps away from my father’s desk. My heart squeezes, but dread coils in my stomach. He’s still a good-looking man. Fine, chiseled jawline. Straight nose. Sincere brown eyes. Perfectly styled dirty blond hair.
Vicious, unkind mouth.
I stand straighter and dip my chin in greeting. “Daniel.”
“Hi, Margot.” He sweeps his gaze over me. Probably noting that I’m still too “plump” for his liking. I pull my shoulders back and resist the urge to suck in my stomach or fold in on myself to make my chest seem smaller. “It’s good to see you again.”
I force a tight smile, hanging onto my professional composure with my fingernails. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It had been coming for some time.” His stoic demeanor cracks. “We’re all thankful she’s no longer in pain.”
I nod once at the familiar sentiment. I’ve heard it a lot over the years, and I’ve probably said it a few times myself, but it never feels quite right.
My father clears his throat and tugs on his suit jacket. “I’ll let you go over details of the viewing together.”
Great. I handle consults with clients on my own sometimes, but I’d prefer my father stick around for this particular one. He’s probably hoping Daniel and I will get back together. As I approach thirty, Dad’s started suggesting I “find a husband.” He hasn’t exactly given me any idea of where to look in the tiny hamlet of Pine Hollow. Nor do I have much free time to spend dating. Dad always liked Daniel, though. He’s probably reading more into Daniel’s choice to have his grandmother’s funeral here than he should.
Obviously, I’d never told him why Daniel and I broke our engagement.
Once we’re alone, I take the chair next to Daniel, turning it slightly to face him, but pushing it back so we’re not too close.
“I want to do everything possible to honor your grandmother properly,” I say. “Did she leave any instructions for her viewing?” This is never an easy subject to broach with clients, but with Daniel it’s like clawing my way through a heavy curtain of grief and awkwardness.
A sad smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Did she ever.” He pulls a thick peach-colored envelope from his inner jacket pocket. “Your father and I already went over the casket options. But maybe you could look at the one I chose and give me your opinion?”
Of course my father wanted to be the one to sell the most expensive part of the package. He knows every detail of every casket we have for sale in the selection room. He would’ve started with his top-down presentation, starting with the most expensive casket and working his way down until Daniel settled on something he was willing to pay for. Since he came from a family of investment bankers, I bet Dad didn’t have to go too far down the line.
“Sure. I can do that. Will your mother be assisting you with any of this?” The one time I’d met her had been unpleasant. I’m not looking forward to a repeat.
He shakes his head quickly. “No. She won’t be here until tomorrow. She wants it taken care of before her plane lands.”
The glacier that took up residence in my chest the moment I laid eyes on Daniel melts a fraction. It’s never easy on clients who have to make all these decisions themselves.
Daniel leans over and slides a large red-and-white shopping bag in front of him. “This is the dress she wanted.” He unfolds a peach chiffon and sequined dress encased in a plastic bag, holding it up by the hanger for my inspection. Fancier than what most people request, but I’ve dressed clients in all sorts of outfits, even a clown costume once. A peach evening gown will hardly be the most unusual.
“She bought it for a cruise she was supposed to take next month.” He swallows hard and his eyes shine. “I figured this is her final bon voyage, she should get to wear it.”
“That’s a lovely idea.”
He returns the dress to the bag, then unfolds the peach-colored sheet of paper inside the envelope and lets out a heavy sigh. A photo slips out, falling on my father’s desk. Daniel picks it up between two fingers and drops it in my lap.
“It’s recent.”
I stare at the photo of Mrs. O’Leary. She was a beautiful, elegant woman with a sleek cap of pale, shiny gold hair that she wore pulled back from her face with jeweled clips. My mind’s already calculating the supplies I’ll need to restore her to this version of herself.