Cemetery Silk Read Free Page A

blinds down so the ‘peekers’ couldn’t see in. I used to tease her about it.”
    She smiled and patted my knee.
    â€œYou come by your teasing naturally. And you’re right. I could use a little goosing up. Things have been rather dismal around here since Abigail died. I wish you and Cassie could stay and visit a little longer.”
    â€œYou know I have to get back to work, but what about Velvet? When was my world-trotting sister’s last visit home?”
    â€œThe flowers Velvet sent were lovely, don’t you think?” she asked ignoring my question.
    â€œTen dozen exotic orchids!” I snorted. “For a funeral? Besides, I bet Joe Tom’s already got them in the truck of his Cadillac.”
    She stood up and smoothed down the nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt.
    â€œOh, dear,” she sighed ignoring me again. “Duty calls. I must go back inside. Will you join me?”
    â€œI think I’ll sit here awhile. I’m tired of people I hardly know asking me how I managed to lose a husband in the jungle.”
    She bent down and kissed my cheek and then patted me on the head. I had been forgiven my trespasses once more.
    I thought about going next door again but I knew Mother might be watching me from the window, so I sighed and decided to let it go. The day had been a long one and I was tired.
    Cassie and I had been traveling since the predawn hours. Immediately upon our arrival at Mother’s farm in Rowan Springs, we had left for the little town of Lanierville fifty miles away where William had lived.
    I was not kidding when I told Mother I had been surprised to see a Catholic priest take the podium at the funeral home service and introduce himself. When I had married Rafe in a Catholic ceremony twenty years ago, it caused quite a stir. Most of my family, including William and Abigail, were Protestants. This morning I sat in stunned silence and watched the little white collar of Father Barnard’s vestments bob up and down with his Adam’s apple as he spoke. I was too busy wondering what in the hell he was doing there to listen to what he had to say.
    When the cleric was finished, Ernest Dibber rushed up to shake his hand and thank him. I remembered then that William had mentioned his neighbors were Catholic.
    I turned to ask Mother what she thought, but we were suddenly hemmed in by a corral of aluminum walkers. William’s old buddies were lining up to offer their condolences. Mother smiled and spoke sweetly to everyone as usual, but the depressing smell of Ben-Gay and soggy Depends was too much for me. I had had enough of the Geritol crowd. I grabbed Cassie by the hand, and we went to get the car.
    The funeral home did not have enough handicap parking spots for all the debilitated old folks. Some of them had to be wheeled and walked back to their cars at the far end of the lot. By the time we could safely start the car, Mother had joined us, and I moved forward to pull up behind the hearse in the “next of kin” space for the trip to the cemetery. To our surprise Ernest and his wife had already parked their car there.
    Mother was outraged. “Who do they think they are? Why they’re not even remotely related to William!”
    I felt a stirring of uneasiness, but restrained myself from reminding her that, technically, we weren’t either.
    The graveside ceremony was even shorter and more abrupt than the one at the funeral home. The priest had a taxi waiting. As soon as he declared, “Amen!” he hopped in, and away he went. The only people besides us and the Dibbers who came to the cemetery were William’s two elderly female cousins. The four came together in conversation for a few moments and then parted company. They all left without a backward glance at the open grave. None of them had shed even one little tear for the dearly departed.
    Cassie sat alone on one of the six or seven folding chairs surrounding the raw dirt of the