The Undertaker's Daughter (Ilka #1)(77)

She looked down at the boy and girl. Two or three years old, she guessed. “The bathroom is right over there.” She pointed it out. “Mike’s mother and sister are here. Actually, we thought you were Tommy arriving.” Ilka hoped that explained some of her confusion.

“It would be nice to use the bathroom.” She began herding the children over.

“I’m hungry,” the girl said, her voice thin and tired.

“So you didn’t come with your father-in-law?” Ilka said. The boy whined about wanting to sleep.

“He’s not coming,” the woman said.

After the door closed behind them, Ilka thought about what to do. Shelby hadn’t mentioned anything about grandchildren; Ilka doubted very much that she knew about her son’s family.

She returned to the arrangement room, where the two women were whispering. They stopped and looked up when she walked in.

“It wasn’t Tommy. It’s three people who were very close to Mike. They only heard what happened to him this morning, and they’re very shaken up. They’ve been driving all day, and I think you should all have a little time together before we go into the chapel.”

A child yelled out in the foyer, “Thirsty, too!” It sounded as if she was about to cry.

Shelby sat up. Emma looked uneasy as she lifted her hand to her scarf. The woman appeared in the doorway carrying one child and holding the hand of the other.

No one spoke for a moment as the three mourners looked at each other. Then the woman stepped inside uncertainly, set the girl down, and ignored the small whimpers, which quieted when Ilka offered the children crackers in a bowl.

“I’m Kathy. I lived with Mike.” She held her hand out to Shelby. “This is Ellen and Don. They’re three years old.”

Mike’s mother shook her hand mechanically, but otherwise she looked completely paralyzed at the sight of the twins. Finally, she tore her eyes off them and turned to the woman, but Emma was already standing with tears running down her cheeks and arms spread, reaching toward Kathy.

Shelby stood up uncertainly, as if everything was going too fast, but then she hugged her daughter-in-law and squatted down in front of her grandchildren.

“There’s soda and juice in the refrigerator,” Ilka said. “And there’s bread and stuff for sandwiches. And more crackers. You’re welcome to it all, and please take your time. Just say when you’re ready.”



Ilka caught her breath for a moment before going in to Artie and telling him who’d just walked in instead of the father. “It’s not okay at all that she drove this far with two small kids, right after hearing about her husband’s death,” she said. “The father-in-law surely could have driven them. Or she could have called. We could have waited until tomorrow.”

Artie shrugged. “I’m guessing she wouldn’t have waited until tomorrow anyway. It’s normal for people to not believe a relative has suddenly died. They have to see with their own eyes.”

“Of course. But his father apparently didn’t need to see his son. Or his daughter, for that matter. That’s so damn tragic,” she muttered. She nodded when Artie asked if she would give him a hand with Mike’s coffin.

The candles were still flickering slightly when they opened the chapel door. Music streamed out from speakers on the wall.

Artie had covered the catafalque bearing the coffin with a black sheet. “You want it all the way up to the podium, or should we just roll it over to the wall so the room doesn’t look so big? Seeing as there’s only a few people here.”

“Let’s put it over against the wall. It’ll be a bit cozier. And I’ll move the candles over there. Leave some space between the coffin and the wall so they can stand around it.”

Ilka had just moved the last floor candelabra when Shelby appeared and said they were ready.

“Lift the lid of the coffin,” Artie said. “There’s an arm that holds it in place when it’s up.” While Shelby and the family walked over to the coffin, he told her he was driving out to Dorothy’s to cremate Mrs. Norton. “Just close it again when you’re finished. I’ll roll it back into the cold room when I get back.”

“Can’t I do that?” Then she remembered what had happened to Sister Eileen, and she gestured that she would leave it there until he returned. “Okay, we can do it then.”



Shelby’s arm was around Emma when they walked in. Kathy followed. The children must be right outside, Ilka noted. Shelby hesitated at her son’s coffin; then she turned and reached for her daughter-in-law’s hand. They waited while Ilka walked around to lift the coffin lid.

She moved a few feet to the side, the family stepped forward, and all four of them looked down—at an empty coffin.

For a moment, they all stared, as if they expected Mike to appear. Then the three women looked at Ilka.

“Oh my God!” Ilka apologized profusely, said it had to be a mistake. She rushed out of the room in a rage and found Artie outside walking toward the hearse, his back to her.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she yelled at him, striding over as if she were about to grab him by the collar and drag him back. “You put an empty coffin in there! How could you? How hard could it be? There were only three coffins, and he was the only one in a wooden coffin!”