Chapter 2
LYRIC
“Listen, I’m not saying I’m giving up on dating.
I’m just saying that I don’t feel like making it a priority right now.
Know what I mean?” I look down at Mrs. Chapman’s partially puttied face, the left side still drooping a little, so I grab the jar of putty from the table next to me.
“And I really think this is the best thing for me to do right now. I’d like to focus on other things.
” And even though she doesn’t reply, I continue on.
“What things? Well, my butterfly collection, for starters. I have a few specimens ready for mounting.”
I use my gloved hands to fill Mrs. Chapman’s left cheek so it’s not sunken in. According to the paperwork, she died of a massive heart attack a few days ago. After prepping her body, I’ve been spending a good part of my day paying attention to her face so her makeup and hair can be done next.
“Who are you talking to?” Mr. Gabhart asks from the stairs.
“Oh, um, myself.” I laugh a little, trying to put to rest his unease. I realized quite some time ago that telling people I’m talking to myself rather than the dead person on the table in front of me sounds more sane.
They still look at me a little funny, though. Just like Mr. Gabhart is doing right now.
“When will Mrs. Chapman be ready?” he asks, not bothering to comment any further on my behavior.
“Just a couple more hours, I think.”
He gives me a sharp nod and turns to walk back up the steps without another word. He’s nothing if not consistently uninterested in his employees’ personal affairs. If it doesn’t affect the work, he doesn’t care. Which is fine by me.
I’ve been working for Gabhart I told him about mine.
He asked me questions about my job and didn’t seem grossed out by what I do.
Which is a big deal because that happens a lot.
I fell asleep with my head on his chest.
Sometime in the morning, he slipped out to the kitchen. I heard him tell Ridge “It’s not like that” and “It’s not what you think,” and he never came back in. I thought he might, but when too much time passed, I stopped waiting. Then he never mentioned it again. Like what the hell?
And excuse me, but I’m not going to be one of those pathetic girls who goes chasing after a guy who clearly isn’t interested. It just… it had seemed like he was. I don’t know. Maybe enough time has passed that it wouldn’t be so awkward.
“I guess he can move in,” I say after a quiet minute.
“Well, you’d be moving in with him.”
“Why? I like my place.”
“Because you’re renting and he owns his place. Plus, you’d have your own bathroom. And he has a dog!”
I hadn’t forgotten about the dog. I’ve not met Tater personally, but I have heard about him. And I do like dogs. And the idea that I’d have my own bathroom. So I relent.
“Fine. I guess I can stop by and look at the place or something. But no promises.”
We end the call with her being way too excited and me slightly worried, which is about right.
Despite my reservations and resistance, I know I’ll probably end up agreeing.
If only because it makes Darcy happy, and if I know anything, it’s that she cares about me and wouldn’t put me in a position if she didn’t trust it.
Which is more than I can say for myself.