Hunter wondered if Maguire Funeral Home employed the same decorators as his grandmother. As he entered he noticed the same preponderance of heavy draperies in muted tones of beige and brown, thick carpets, polished wood and brass, and French impressionist oil paintings on the wall. It was as if the same mind had created the décor of the funeral parlor and the home he had grown up in, minus of course the urns filled with gladiolas and the endless floral arrangements that spilled over into the foyer of the funeral parlor.
He wanted to look anywhere but into the main parlor. Oh yes, look at the stained glass windows! Haven’t they done a great job with the recessed lighting? And that crown molding is to die for. Even Hunter had to smile at the macabre pun of his last thought.
But the cherry
