Chapter 17I took a shower, put on clean clothes, and went downstairs. It was Sunday. The funeral home was closed and silent. It seemed far too large, far too spacious, too full of dark rooms and corners and haunted memories. We had no bodies in house at the moment, so I was well and truly alone. Well, except for Charlie out back in the apartment.
I sat at the desk in my office and switched on the light. For a long time, I stared at the piles of papers and did nothing but think of Mama.
Gracie was right, though. It was time to move on.
I sent a text to Charlie:
Wanna do some Xmas shopping?
I settled back in my chair to wait for a response. Charlie and I had been friendly enough over the past couple of weeks. Professional was a better word. He had been helpful, solicitous, very gentle.
