The morgue had left a message on my phone, politely requesting I come down and collect my fatherâs belongings that had been on his person when heâd died.
I hadnât felt up to it for a few days, preferring to drink until I forgot about it, but each day when I woke up hungover, it weighed heavily on my mind. I couldnât keep drinking, or it would become a serious problem. So the next morning, I left before I could get drunk and drove to a cold-looking building in the industrial part of Saint View. Glancing around warily at the graffiti on the walls of the run-down buildings, I locked my fatherâs car, hoping it would still be there when I returned.
The entire place gave me the heebie-jeebies, just knowing inside lay dozens and dozens of dead bodies, all chilling in a freezer.
What a fucking job.
The woman who greeted me when I opened the door though was anything but gloomy. Her dress was bright yellow, her arms covered by a pink cardigan, and she had her hair braided into two strands that hung over her shoulders pigtail-style, held in place with rainbow hair ties. âGood morning!â she announced so brightly I jumped at the sudden, unexpected tone. âWhat can we do for you today?â
âI need to pick up my fatherâs belongings. Someone called me.â
âLast name?â
âWeston. Vaughnâ¦I mean, Iâm Vaughn. Heâs Bart. The dead person in question is Bart. Iâm not dead. Clearly. Shit.â
She smiled tolerantly, like she put up with rambling idiots like myself on the regular and tapped her lime-green-painted fingernails across the keyboard. âRight! Here you are. ID 7876.â She repeated the numbers beneath her breath as she turned to a row of large cabinets behind her and rummaged through one of them. âHere you go, honey. Thereâs a note that the clothes he was brought in wearing were destroyed due to the possibility of contamination with a poisonous substance. But the items in his pockets and his jewelry were checked over by the police then deemed unrequired for their investigations. So, theyâre all yours, if you want them.â She pushed across a small plastic bag with only a couple of things inside. His wallet and phone. A gold wedding band and a folded piece of paper.
My hand shook as I took them from her, and she gave me a sympathetic smile.
âI really am very sorry for your loss.â
âThank you.â
She paused for a moment. âWould you like to see the body?â
I glanced up at her, sure my face was white. I could practically feel the blood draining from it. âWhat?â
âSome people find it comforting. Especially if the death was quick. Itâs maybe a chance to say anything you didnât get to say while they were living.â
I hesitated. There were things I wanted to say. Things Iâd always thought Iâd have more time for. âIs heâ¦like, blue or something?â
She put a hand on my arm reassuringly. âItâs not as scary as you might think. Most people tell me theyâre glad they did it, even if they didnât want to at first. But itâs totally up to you.â
I wasnât sure I could live with any more regrets. I already had so many. I nodded.
She came out from behind the desk and led the way to a door at the far end of the room. She punched in a code, and I held the door open for her, then followed behind. âItâs just down here.â She muttered the ID number again, then found a matching number on the wall of silver drawers.
I tried really hard not to think about how many bodies were behind them.
She put her hand on the handle, pausing to look over at me. âAre you ready?â
No.
âYes.â
She flicked off a lock and pulled the drawer out.
My fatherâs dead body lay on top of it. His skin was pale and did have a blueish tinge, but if I ignored that, I could perhaps pretend he was just sleeping. It was either that or run out of the place screaming.
âNot so bad, huh?â the woman asked.
I couldnât speak, but she seemed to understand.
âIâll give you some time. Just come on out when youâre finished. You donât need to do anything. Iâll tidy up when youâre done. Thereâs a chair here if youâd like to use it.â
It was maybe more a matter of need than want. I wasnât sure my legs would support me for very long. I sank down into it gratefully. It was better from this vantage point to. From sitting height, I only saw his profile.
I didnât know what to do. Was I supposed to talk? The room was so deathly silent, I couldnât stand not filling it. âWell. That was a wedding day no one will forget in a hurry, huh?â
I rubbed my face with my hands. This sucked. This sucked so bad. I didnât know what to do. I held up the bag of his belongings. âPicked up your things. Wallet, keys, phone, ring. Donât know what this bit of paper isâ¦â
It was easier to reach inside the bag and take the paper out than it was to keep staring at my fatherâs too-pale skin. I unfolded it slowly and skimmed over the first few lines of text.
I squinted at my fatherâs body. âThis isnât what you read at the ceremony.â He and Miranda had both recited standard vows, repeating after the judge.
I looked down at the beautiful words and wondered why. Had he chickened out? He shouldnât have. It was a shame Miranda never heard these.
I glanced around the room, wondering if her body was in here. I didnât know what I believed about souls or the afterlife, but my fatherâs words deserved to be read aloud, so I continued.
I put the paper down. âYou really loved her, huh, old man? Maybe itâs for the best you went together.â
I could only imagine losing a love like the one my father had found would be crippling. At least heâd been spared that pain.
âI really hope thereâs some sort of afterlife, Dad. I hope you get to spend forever with her.â I bowed my head, staring down at my lap.
An uncomfortable feeling settled over me. My dad had vowed to protect both Miranda and Rebel. I didnât know what he was protecting them from, but it made a lot more sense now as to why his estate had been split between the two of us.
Iâd failed my father in so many ways over the course of my life. Acting out at school. Taking for granted the wealth and privilege his hard work had given me. Never coming back to visit once Iâd finished college. Iâd been so wrapped up in me. In the things that had pushed me out of this town and made me never want to return. Iâd forgotten the one man whoâd always supported me.
I swallowed thickly. âIâm so sorry. I wish I could change it.â
But there was no going back now. Only going forward.
Iâd accused Rebel of some awful things. Iâd let my grief get the better of me, and it had come out in anger. I hated Iâd done that. She was grieving too. She didnât deserve the things Iâd said when alcohol and hurt had gotten the better of me.
I choked down the lump in my throat and stared at the vows again. Rebelâs name was the only word that stayed clear, the rest of them blurring as I blinked back the moisture welling in my eyes.
âIâll take over where you left off,â I promised him. âIâll protect her. Make sure sheâs taken care of. If it was important to you, then itâs important to me too.â
Some of the heaviness lifted off my heart. Maybe it was just the relief at admitting Iâd done something wrong and was going to try to fix it. I had to sort out Brookeâs mess, and I needed money to do that. Fast. But Rebel wouldnât go without.
âI donât know how you became the man you are. I donât think I can even be half as good.â I stood, gathering up my fatherâs things and took one last look down at him. âBut Iâll try.â