Maybe This Time(43)

“They just have similar names,” Micah said. “Not sure why you would’ve confused them at all.”

“Gee, thanks,” Andrew said.

I looked back and forth between two vases, trying to decide which one I wanted to use. I picked the one on the right. I didn’t have a lot of time so I bundled a group of lilies together in my hand, creating a symmetrical pattern.

A car pulled up outside.

“Is that Mrs. Davis?” Micah asked, peering through the store windows. “I’ll go tell her the shop is closed before she has to get her three kids out of the car.”

Andrew pushed himself off the counter to follow Micah but she held up her hand. “I got it. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“I think she did that on purpose,” I said after Micah had left.

“What?”

“Left us alone. She wants us to be friends.”

“She’s delusional,” he said.

I laughed. “So delusional. Hold these.”

He took the flowers from me. I clipped the stems and added several more to the bundle in his hand.

“What’s the secret to a good arrangement?” he asked.

“Shape,” I said, and took a step back to get a better look. “Good enough.” I slid the vase up the stems and Andrew released his hold.

“They look nice,” he said.

“You can’t compliment the ones I make in less than five minutes.”

“It’s the first one I’ve seen that you weren’t making specifically with a client in mind.”

I shook my head. “I definitely had John Farnsworth in mind.”

“The dead guy? How so?”

“I used lots of lilies.”

The bell rang on the door and Micah poked her head in. “My friends, we should probably go before we miss the funeral.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” Andrew picked up the two arrangements I’d pulled out of the fridge and I carried out the third. This would be a much better showing. John deserved it.





At the pulpit, Pastor Greenley was giving a sermon about death and salvation. One of John’s grandsons, Joseph, in from out of town, kept looking over his shoulder to where Micah sat in the back row of the chapel, smiling at her.

“That guy is going to give himself a neck strain,” Andrew said. “This is a funeral. Even I know it’s not the appropriate time to flirt.”

“Everyone deals with grief in different ways,” Micah said, smiling at Joseph as he looked back again.

“Do you see the good in everyone?” Andrew asked.

“Pretty much,” she whispered.

“She’s more forgiving of the cute ones,” I said.

“So untrue,” she said.

The couple sitting in front of us turned around and shot us annoyed looks. We went silent.

The sermon wasn’t too long and it was followed by John’s son giving a eulogy. There was a large photograph of John set up by the casket and I stared at it as the words about his life were read: He’d served in the military; he was married for fifty-four years; he had two sons, one daughter, and eight grandchildren. He volunteered at the veterans’ hospital; he had a problem with alcohol when he was younger that he overcame. The facts of his life were read off like a checklist and I, like I assumed most people did at funerals, started thinking about what facts would be read at mine.

She got by in school; she loved her brother; everyone loved her best friend; she longed for a life she couldn’t even imagine because it was so foreign to her.

“He had a special place in his heart for the underdog,” John’s son said, bringing me back to the moment. “Probably because he felt like he was one. So he always stood up for them.”

“I guess that makes you an underdog,” Andrew whispered.

I elbowed him in the ribs and he let out a grunt.

Mr. Farnsworth finished up with a teary declaration of gratitude to his father and then sat down.

Pastor Greenley stood back up again. “We will now all proceed to the graveside. After the burial, Mrs. Lawson has opened up her home for a reception.” He closed with a prayer and then everyone was leaving.

Andrew headed for the door with the rest of the congregation but stopped when neither Micah nor I followed.

“We have to bring the flowers,” Micah said.

“Oh, right.” He came back to stand next to us.

Joseph headed up the aisle right next to us and gave Micah a wink as he passed. I shot him a dirty look and Andrew chuckled. I scanned the rest of the people filing by. I hadn’t seen Kyle during the ceremony and I didn’t see him now. The last of the patrons left the room and then it was just the three of us. Micah grabbed the flowers from the pulpit while I went for the ones on the credenza next to the wall.

“Um …” Andrew said.

“What?” I asked.

“I think the family forgot something.”

“What?” I asked again, joining him. “Oh.” The casket sat unassuming on its wheels, the large picture of John and the spray of flowers on either side.

“They forgot?” Micah asked. “Isn’t that what pallbearers are for? It’s like their only job.”

“Maybe they forgot to assign pallbearers,” I said. “Or the pallbearers were just thinking they were required at the cemetery?”