Casket Case

Chapter 16

Nora’s head throbs to the beat of her alarm. Light streams through a small gap in the curtains, and she has no idea where she is. Then it all comes back to her. The hotel. The conference. Johnny Chandler.

She drags her near-lifeless body into the shower, somehow mustering up the strength to reach her arms over her head to wash her hair. For some reason, she feels like an errant teenager, like someone is going to discipline her for almost kissing Johnny. Like Garrett is going to run into the room and tell her everything was a huge misunderstanding and that she should have waited for him to explain. She scrubs her hands over her face as if Neutrogena can remove the guilt and shame and embarrassment of the whole situation. How could she manage to make things worse than they already were?

As she’s brushing her teeth in front of the bathroom mirror, the logic starts to return. Nora is single. Johnny is single. She hasn’t heard from Garrett since they broke up, weeks ago. She’s allowed to kiss whoever she wants, whenever she wants. If she’s honest with herself, she likes being with Johnny. Garrett had always been a mystery. He was new and exciting. Johnny is familiar and comfortable. They had grown up in the same place with the same people. Johnny understands her job. He understands the pressure of running a family business you never wanted to run.

Nora puts on her nicest black dress with her mom’s pearl earrings and necklace. Drying her hair takes so much effort that she has to sit down for an intermission. No makeup in the world is enough to cover up a hangover for someone in their thirties, although this could be the one place where looking like a corpse will be acceptable.

There’s a knock on the door as she’s putting on her shoes, and her heart flutters. She wishes it would stop doing that. She opens the door to Johnny holding two coffee cups.

“Hey, there.”

“Hi.” She moves back to let him inside the room.

“Here,” he says, handing her one of the coffee cups.

“You’re a saint.” Nora takes a sip, noticing that Johnny doesn’t look hungover at all. He’s wearing a black suit with a black tie, and his blond curls are still wet. He pushes them back away from his face and looks around the room at her mess.

“Please don’t rush the dead.” She takes her coffee into the bathroom to start packing her toiletries.

Johnny leans in the doorway with his usual smirk, like the villain in a CW show. “How are you feeling?”

“I can’t feel much of anything but this headache. How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

“You don’t look like shit. I look like shit.” She combs through her hair with her fingers, but it’s not helping. She gathers all of her things from the bathroom and pushes past him into the bedroom.

“I’m faking it.”

He watches as Nora collects the clothes she’s thrown all over the room and stuffs them, unfolded, into her bag. She’s trying to force her toiletry bag to fit into the few remaining inches when she feels Johnny next to her.

“Let me see it, Clanton.”

She huffs and hands over the bags. While he adjusts her meager attempt at organization, she sits on the edge of the bed drinking her coffee, trying to come up with some banter. Her brain refuses to participate. Instead, it reminds her of why she came to Birmingham in the first place. Dead people. Dead Dad. Dead Dad award.

Johnny puts the bag next to the door and sits down beside her.

“I can’t give a speech today,” she says.

“Sure you can.”

She shakes her head. “There’s one thing I can do for my dad, and I can’t even do it right.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

“I didn’t even write anything.” She’s holding back tears, likely caused by the hangover, or at least that’s what she tells herself.

Johnny puts his arm around her shoulders. “You need breakfast. We’ll work on the speech after that. It can’t be that hard. The award’s won already.”

“Easy for you to say.” She lays her head on his shoulder, and they’re silent for a moment. Nora knows he’ll sit there as long as she wants. She also knows he’s the same Johnny who has been rude all of her life. Maybe he’s different than she thought. Maybe he’s grown up. Maybe it’s possible for a person to be two things at once.

“I guess we should go,” she says. They stand, and he gives her a once-over.

“You sure?”

She nods. “No use putting it off.”

“Before we do,” he begins. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About last night.”

Her love life could use its own casket.

“You really don’t have to apologize,” she says, forcing herself to make eye contact with him when all she wants to do is hide from her own embarrassment.

“I was drunk. It was stupid. I know you just got out of a relationship, and I’m pretty sure you hated me before yesterday.”

“I’ve never hated you, Johnny.”

“Well.” He pauses to gather his thoughts. She’s never seen him do that. “Either way. I don’t want it to be weird.”

“I agree.”

He takes a step toward her and reaches out to tuck a hair behind her ear, just like he did the night before. “Don’t get me wrong: I still want to kiss you. But I’m willing to put it on hold.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but he holds up a hand.

“Let’s get through today, all right?”

She releases the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Thank you.”

She gives the room one last check for any forgotten belongings, and they walk to the elevator.

“Wait, where’s your stuff?” Nora asks.

“I put it in the car already.”

“How long have you been up?”

The elevator arrives with no one else on it.

“Long enough.” He takes one corner, and she takes the other. “I know what I said, but can I just say one last thing, and then I swear I’ll shut up?”

“Uh, sure.”

“You look really pretty.”

She rolls her eyes. “I look like it’s time for you to plan my services.”

“You calling me a liar?”

“I’m not calling you anything.”

He shakes his head. “It gets a little tiring having to be the voice of reason all the time.”

“Have I mentioned that I have a headache? You’re not helping.”

“I kinda like a little hangover on a woman. It’s charming.”

“Shut up, Johnny.”

He smiles as the elevator doors open in the lobby. “Yes, ma’am.”

They take her bag to the truck and try to find a seat in the hotel restaurant, but they’re all filled with undertakers. She was supposed to have breakfast and work on her speech, and now she can’t. She starts to lose her grip on reality, so Johnny steers her shoulders out of the restaurant and into the street. They walk, taking in the fresh air, until they find a diner on the next corner.

A perky young waitress brings the food. Nora picks at her scrambled eggs until she realizes Johnny is looking at her.

“You gotta eat something,” he says.

“I know. I’m nervous.”

“The food will help.”

She gives him a look, and he hands her a piece of toast from her plate.

“Eat this, and I’ll shut up,” he says. “I swear.”

She bites into the toast and chews it slowly. She knows it will make her feel better, but she doesn’t have to like it. Johnny doesn’t have any problem getting through his “whatever you’ve got back in the kitchen” omelet.

“How can you eat that right now?”

He shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

She holds up a second piece of toast for his approval and takes a bite.

“You want a bite of this?”

“God, no. You don’t even know what it is.”

“It’s an omelet.”

“Whatever you say.”

She eats a few bites of her own eggs, but she can’t do much more. Maybe it’s the texture. Or the smell. Or the multiple types of alcohol from last night bubbling up. She shoves her plate to the middle of the table and steals a piece of bacon from his.

“Hey, get your own breakfast meat.”

“You’ll live.”

He finishes his plate of nonsense and pushes it to the center of the table.

“Now let’s get to work on that speech.”

“We’re going to miss the opening session if we don’t leave now.”

“I think we can put the ‘fun’ in ‘funeral’ right here in this diner.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. What do you want to say?”

She thinks for a moment. “Well, I suppose I should introduce myself and thank them for the prestigious award.”

“Yes, I would start there. Lead with flattery.” She can tell he’s taking this seriously, and it’s endearing.

“I don’t really know what to say about my dad. It’s hard to sum up a whole person.”

“I wouldn’t shoot for that. You don’t owe these people anything. You certainly don’t owe them your whole dad. Focus on the work parts.”

“His whole business model was people, not product. No one is happy to have to come into a casket store, and Dad was always prepared for that, no matter the situation. He was good at his job, and he loved it. He loved helping people he knew through hard times.”

Johnny nods, sliding his coffee cup across the table from one hand to the other.

“Is that enough?” She can’t think about it much longer without having to actually think about it. She shouldn’t even be doing this. Her dad should be here.

“I think so. You don’t have to overdo it.”

“Should I write it down?”

He thinks for a moment. “Nah, leave it unscripted.”

“What if I forget what to say? I’m not good at this.”

“You won’t. If the worst happens, I’ll pull the fire alarm, and you can meet me at the truck.”

She laughs. “Promise?”

“Yep.”

“Thanks, Johnny.”

“Anytime.”

They walk back to the conference, Nora one step behind Johnny, and they make it to the exhibition hall with a few minutes to spare. They’re standing with the other latecomers just outside the main doors, waiting for the first session to finish.

“Are you Nora?”

When she turns around, she recognizes the woman’s face. “Yes.”

“I knew you must be! You look just like your mama. I’m Leann. I think you spoke to my husband, Brian, on the phone?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am, I did.” Brian is the man who called and guilted Nora into doing this.

“This is going to be short and sweet. You’ll want to sit near the front. We’re going to show some old clips and pictures of your dad. Some of our leadership team will say a few words, and then we’ll explain the award and call you up to accept.”

Before she can say anything, the doors swing open and Leann says, “Come with me.”

Nora grabs Johnny’s arm and drags him along. Leann leads them to the front row of seats and points out two seats near the middle. “I’ve got to go check on some things. Will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Leann walks away as a slideshow of Nora’s parents projects onto the screen in the front of the room. Nora hears faint instrumental music start to play.

She turns toward Johnny and speaks low into his ear: “I don’t want to be weird, and maybe I just have it on the brain, but does this sort of seem like—”

“A funeral?” he asks as if he doesn’t care who hears him. “Seems like Leann might be a one-trick pony.”

“This is weird, right? He’s been dead for more than a year.”

“What do you expect? Says a lot that we’re the two most normal people here.” He picks up a program from the seat beside him. “These folks are having a silent auction later to give away an autographed copy of an album of funeral music and some kind of antique coffin once owned by Marilyn Manson. Nothing here is normal.”

“Let me see that.” Sure enough, there’s a whole list of prizes to be won, including a gift basket of industrial candles and odor neutralizers from a crematorium and a trip to the National Gravestone Museum in Ohio. “Oh, this one is normal. A weekend at Leann and Brian’s lake house with Leann and Brian.”

“Somehow, that is the creepiest one.”

The lights dim, and the music stops for an awkward moment of silence before a new song begins. The crowd seems to recognize this as a sign to find their seats. Is Leann going to make Nora march out and back in like families do at funeral services?

Johnny leans over. “Remember to breathe.”

She takes a deep breath. “I will.”

The slideshow she had been trying to ignore starts over. When Brian called about the award, he asked Nora to send a few family photos, and she did, but it wasn’t enough for a slideshow. She’s never seen the majority of these photos. Most of them are candids—her dad giving a thumbs-up over an overfilled plate of wings, her mom and dad sitting in easy chairs in front of a fireplace, her dad standing onstage and talking with his hands.

Nora senses the mood in the room changing before her brain can catch up. People here had sent these photos. The reason this feels like a funeral is because, in a way, it is one. Hadn’t they come to the actual funeral? It’s hard for Nora to remember whoshe saw that week, but she knows some of them were there. A few of them sent flowers and cards. A few of them offered to help with the service. A few of them brought casseroles and restaurant gift cards because sometimes that’s all you know todo.

Nora has never thought of anyone else’s grief about her parents’ deaths. Everyone has focused on her and her grandpa, since they’re the two leftovers. If life is like a puzzle or a tapestry or some other object that represents the way everyone fits together, Nora has a few gaps that keep it from being whole.

It’s hard to remember that her parents were real people. She always envisions them behind the counter at the store or in the living room watching television, but that wasn’t the totality of their lives. They had lives before she arrived. They had lives once she moved out.

Maybe the people in this room also have a Billy-and-Anita-shaped gap in their lives. Maybe it’s not as big as Nora’s, but maybe it’s there.

As more and more photos pass across the screen, Nora notices the people around her lighting up with recognition. She sees the memories surface in different pockets of the room as people laugh or point at the pictures they recognize. The clasped hands and tissue boxes. The happy memories blending with the sad reality to create that bittersweet taste of grief.

Nora’s parents have belonged to her since the day she was born, but they belong to a lot of other people, too.

Then there’s a photo of her family on the screen: her dad, her mom, and Nora sitting on a blanket, eating watermelon off paper plates. They’re all wearing Alabama T-shirts with the old logo. Her mom’s hair has been teased to high heaven. Nora must have been seven or eight.

Johnny reaches over and puts his hand over hers, and she intertwines their fingers.

“I don’t remember that.”

“It was at the fall festival in town,” Johnny whispers.

Nora’s eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“My mom had it, for some reason.”

“You sent it in?”

He shrugs. “They asked for pictures, and I had a picture.”

For so long Nora had wanted to get away from these people and this life, to create her own place in the world without the baggage of the past, to be free of the expectations that come with it, but there’s something to be said for the people who can remember the things she can’t. The people who don’t require explanations because they’ve known every iteration of her.

Two gray-haired men take the stage after the slideshow. Nora figures she has probably met them, but she has no clue who they are. The first one, wearing a black suit slightly too big for his body, welcomes the crowd and gives a brief rundown of Nora’s dad’s life, the kind you would find in an obituary. Maybe it is his obituary.

The second man must be the entertainment, based solely on his bright blue tie covered in tropical fish. He tells a few stories about Billy Clanton; they’re filled with inside jokes that Nora doesn’t understand, but by the end of it the crowd has completely dissolved into silliness and laughter.

Brian and Leann are next, and Leann nods at Nora to signal that it’s about to be her turn.

“I should have written something down,” she whispers to Johnny.

“If you can’t think of anything, just ask them to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance. They’ll do it, and it will buy you some time.”

Brian is going into detail about the importance of the award and its past recipients.

“That’s your advice?”

“No one is expecting the Gettysburg Address.”

“I don’t want to look stupid.”

“Well, you’re not stupid, so that’s not possible.”

Leann steps to the microphone to run through the many things Billy Clanton did for the organization. Nora didn’t have a clue about any of it.

“Many of us are old enough to remember Anita’s parents,” Brian says when it’s his turn again, “and when they passed, we weren’t sure what would happen to their store, but now most of us know that Billy could have talked anyone into anything, so he talked Anita into putting everything they had into it. He started showing up at our meetings, and before we knew it, he was running things on our leadership team and had become a friend to all of us.

“So, for everything that’s been mentioned up here and all the things we can’t put into words,” Brian concludes, “we would like to present the National Funeral Directors Society Lifetime Achievement Award to Billy Clanton. And here to accept on his behalf is his daughter, who is following in his footsteps, Eleanora Clanton.”

Everyone in the room stands to applaud. Nora freezes in her seat.

Johnny pulls her to her feet and leans in to whisper, “You know what to say, Clanton. Just do it.”

Nora nods and smooths out her dress before walking toward the stage. Her adrenaline makes her take the steps too fast, and she trips slightly, but she tells herself that maybe no one noticed. Brian and Leann both pull her in for a hug, and she tries to pretend that it’s normal to hug people she just met in person. Nora’s eyes widen as Brian hands her the award: a rectangular chunk of granite engraved with her dad’s name and sitting on a granite base, not unlike his gravestone. She holds it up for the crowd, and for Johnny in particular, who covers his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Nora waits for everyone to sit down and for the room to fall silent, which is what everyone does on every awards show, but it’s not great for her nerves to be standing in front of a silent room with no real plan for what to say.

“Like Brian said, I’m Eleanora Clanton, and I’m Billy and Anita’s daughter.”

Lead with flattery.

“I can’t thank you all enough for all of the kind things you said about my dad today. His work and this organization were important to him, and I know he would be proud to receive this prestigious award. All of you meant a lot to him, too. He would have been tickled pink to see the pictures and hear the stories, and those of you who knew my dad know you would have had to hear about this day forever.”

They laugh, so maybe she’s on the right track. She looks down at Johnny, and he nods his encouragement.

Focus on the work parts.

“Most of you probably know that Dad and Mom inherited Rabbittown Casket Company from my grandparents. On paper, a small-town casket company is not a great business idea.” A few people laugh, even though she’s not joking. “But Dad spent most of his life making it work. Beyond that, he made it successful. He set an example for me and for anyone else who was paying attention by putting people before profit. Dad loved helping people. As most of you know firsthand, we see customers on some of the worst days of their lives, and Dad helped shoulder a few of those burdens, if only for a little while.”

A few people in the audience are wiping their eyes, so she decides to wrap it up before the emotion gets to her.

“I wish he were here to accept this award instead of me, since he did all of the work to deserve it, and he loved any opportunity to be on a stage with a microphone.” This gets more laughs, so they definitely knew her dad well. “Thank you to the National Funeral Directors Society for your generosity and support for so many years.”

Nora raises the miniature gravestone—a toast, of sort, to her parents—and steps back from the podium, and the crowd gives another standing ovation. She understands that this applause is for her dad, but it still makes her feel weird. Her heart races and sweat pools under her feet, inside her shoes. She takes a deep breath and focuses only on making it to the seat next to Johnny. When she gets there, he hugs her with one arm and takes the award to examine it.

“These people need to be stopped,” he says under his breath. “You were great, by the way. Didn’t faint once.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve got some fans.” He nods to the aisle to her left. Sure enough, a single-file line has formed, with Brian and Leann in front.

Much like at a visitation, everyone cycles through one by one to pay their respects. This takes an excruciatingly long time, but Nora is used to visitations. She recognizes what these people are feeling. They need to do this for themselves, not for Nora.

Halfway through the line, she turns to say something to Johnny, to get a break from the grief, but he’s lying across three chairs with an arm draped over his face, using his jacket as a pillow, sound asleep. She will have to get through this on her own. She’s done it before.

“Wake up,” Nora says, after shaking the last hand, nudging Johnny’s elbow with her knee.

“Is it over?” he asks, dropping his arm.

“I think so.”

“Nora?” someone calls from behind her. She knows who it is before she turns around, but she still doesn’t quite believe it when she sees Garrett standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Not the most polite she’s ever been, but they’re past that.

“I’m here for the conference.” He’s wearing a dark gray suit, white shirt, and emerald-green tie. The green in his tie makes his green eyes stand out even more than they normally do, and Nora realizes that her knees could buckle at any moment.

“Why?”

He tilts his head, confused by her confusion. “We always have a representative at these things, and I volunteered. You told me about the award.”

Her brain spins, trying to understand. “I guess that makes sense.” Actually, she doesn’t think it makes much sense at all.

“You did great,” he says. “Really.”

“Thanks—I was nervous.”

He smiles. “I thought you might be, but they’re going to be asking you to lead a committee or something after that. I know your parents are proud of you.”

Nora had forgotten that Johnny was in the room, so it’s a surprise when he appears beside her, his jacket folded over his arm. With his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up, she’s once again reminded that he should be in a catalog.

“Johnny, this is Garrett Bishop,” she says. “Garrett, this is Johnny Chandler.”

“As in Chandler Funeral Home?” Garrett asks.

“That’s me.”

“I live a few blocks over from it.”

“Hope you’re not downwind,” Johnny says.

Nora elbows him. “Don’t be gross.”

“Yes, where are my manners?” Johnny asks as he reaches across to shake Garrett’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Nora remembers Garrett’s hands. She remembers his mouth. Then she remembers her night with Johnny, and she forces herself to stay in the present moment.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Garrett says. Nora can tell he’s trying to understand if something is going on between her and Johnny; maybe if he figures it out, he could let her know. “Are you going to other sessions today?”

“I think Johnny is going to the golf thing, and I’m going to a session about pre-sales. What about you?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Garrett says. “I’ve seen a couple I’m interested in.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take my trophy to the meeting rooms down the hall.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m back from the golf course,” Johnny says. “Hopefully it will be sooner than later.”

“Have fun with Larry,” Nora says.

“Enjoy your very exciting seminars on things you already know how to do. Nice meeting you, Garrett.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Once Johnny is out of earshot, Garrett leans over to ask, “Mind if I tag along with you?”

“To a seminar about casket pre-sales?”

“Maybe I’ll learn something. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

He smiles, and Nora melts. Being in his presence has cleared her mind of everything that happened before now. The secrets. The fights. The breakup. She straightens, pulling herself together, as if better posture might do the trick.

“I hope it’s okay I came,” he continues. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” She hadn’t realized how much until she saw him. She hadn’t let herself think about him being there for her, but she needed him. “I think the room is in this direction.”

“Lead the way.”

As they walk through the convention center, Garrett breaks the silence: “Can I ask you something?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Johnny Chandler?”

Nora laughs. There’s nothing else to do when someone is that straightforward. “What about him?”

“Are you really here with him?”

“Well, it sort of looks like I’m here with you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“He offered to drive me here.”

“I’m sure he offered more than that.”

“Garrett!”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Nora sees the room up ahead and pulls Garrett aside in front of a row of windows in an attempt to keep the whole conference from hearing about her drama.

“It’s not your business either way.”

“Well, either way, you’re better than him.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“I know enough. People talk. And last I heard, you didn’t like him and neither did your grandpa.”

“Oh my God, he drove me to a conference we were both going to. It’s not like he proposed.”

Garrett turns to stare out the window. “I don’t care for this situation.”

“And you think it’s fun for me?”

“You’re the one moving on like nothing between us mattered.”

“That’s not true. I’m not with him. Did you just come here to yell at me?”

“No, I didn’t want to talk about this.”

“Then let’s not talk about it.”

Nora assumes that going to the seminar will give her a chance to clear her head. “Come on, let’s learn about casket sales.”

Nora is often wrong.

Garrett sits in the chair next to her, their bodies not at all touching, and that’s all Nora can think about for forty-eight minutes. He fidgets. She fidgets. She squeezes her hands together, trying to think of anything else. It doesn’t work.

When the session is over, they walk back into the hallway, back to the not-at-all-private area in front of the windows.

“Well, that was enlightening,” Garrett says.

Nora leans against a window. “You didn’t have to come. I’m sure there was another session you could have gone to that pertains to your…particular set of skills.”

Garrett looks at her sideways. “Do you actually think I came here for this conference? Let me take you to lunch.”

Nora starts shaking her head before her brain can make words. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Lunch or lunch with me?”

“The second one.”

“What’s the worst that can happen? We eat food? You miss a session? I’ll email them for the slides.”

“I don’t trust myself.” She didn’t mean to say it out loud, but there it is.

“I trust you. If you decide it’s going terribly, you can leave.”

He leads her to a sandwich shop a couple of blocks from the convention center. She gets the drinks and sits down at an empty table, while he waits at the counter for their food.

Nora watches him standing there, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. She has had the thought in the past few weeks that maybe, eventually, they could be friends. Or at least friendly. But the suit is not doing her any favors. She feels the familiar butterflies. Her brain starts playing the hits on a loop: the first time she saw him, their first date, all the cheese he bought for pizza night. He’s walking toward the table with the tray by the time she gets to their breakfast at Jack’s.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he says as he takes a seat on the other side of the table. He puts the tray down and holds up a finger. After digging around in his pocket, he comes out with a handful of change. “What about a nickel?” He slides it over to her.

Where do men learn this shit?

“I don’t think you want to hear them, but I’ll take the nickel.” She tosses it into her purse, where she’ll probably find it later and frame it.

They both unwrap their sandwiches in silence, even though Nora doesn’t feel much like eating.

“So,” Garrett begins, “what have you been up to?”

Nora snorts. “Oh, this and that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’ve been crying over my breakup. Drinking a lot. Selling caskets. The usual.”

“If you’re insinuating that it’s been a walk in the park on my end, remember that you broke up with me .”

“What have you been up to?” Nora asks, taking a bite of her turkey sandwich. It doesn’t taste like anything. Just bread and a hint of mustard now and then.

“I’ve been working. I had to go to Tuscaloosa, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I spent a lot of time in my hotel being sad.”

Nora nods her understanding. After a moment of loaded silence, she volunteers: “I’ve been redoing the store.”

Garrett perks up. “Redoing it how?”

“I don’t know for sure yet. I got some paint samples. I cleaned out the back room, which took me a whole week.”

“You’re going to paint it yourself?”

“I guess so. I’m the only employee.”

“I’ll come help you.”

She gives him a look. “Actually, I might take you up on that. It’s the least you could do.”

Garrett shakes his head at her but decides to drop it. “What made you decide to do that? The painting and stuff?”

“I guess I felt a little like I was working in a crypt, which might be the perfect vibe for a casket shop, but I don’t think my parents would want me to keep it exactly how they had it.”

“That’s really exciting. I’m happy for you.” He smiles, and she can tell he means it.

“Thank you. Who knows? I might end up selling it.”

His brows furrow. “You want to sell it?”

“I don’t know. It’s an option. I never wanted to own it in the first place.” She opens her bag of sour cream and onion chips, and the smell fills the air around them. Maybe she should have chosen plain.

“Did someone make you an offer?”

“I was talking to Johnny about it. Nothing serious.” She pops a chip into her mouth.

He crosses his arms. “He wants to buy your store?”

“He said he was going to look at the numbers. I could keep working there if I want, or I could sell the house, too, and go somewhere else entirely.”

“Was this your idea?”

Nora thinks about it. “I’m not sure. I guess it was his. I didn’t offer the store to him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Garrett props his elbows on the table and rubs both hands over his face. “Please let someone else besides you look at the paperwork before you sign anything. It doesn’t have to be me. Find a random lawyer. Someone outside of the situation.”

“I’ll try not to be offended by that.”

“You can’t trust him, Nora.”

“And you aren’t the most objective source. I’m a grown-up. I can handle things myself.”

He crosses his arms again, preparing for a fight. “Don’t sell the store to him just to spite me. Is that what your family would want? For it to go to the Chandlers?”

And with that, Nora loses her appetite. She puts her tasteless sandwich on her tray and moves the tray to the other side of the table. “You know what my family wants? For my parents to be alive. So why don’t you sit with that while you go to your perfect job every day.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with your parents.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, and maybe you should consider what it would have been like if someone hadn’t been there for them. I don’t know what the situation was like, but I’m glad if it had to happen that they had someone next to them helping them through it. Since I’ve met you, I’ve heard so much about your family and what a big part you’ve all been in your community. You got an award for it today. I think, if it came down to it, you would want to help people in this situation, too.”

“Help them die.”

“They’re already dying. We’re all dying. And you can’t stop that. You can’t control it. If you’re not ready to accept that, I understand. I won’t push it anymore. But I can’t sit here and act like it’s a good idea for you to sell your family business to bad people.”

“?‘Bad people’?” Nora laughs. “That’s really funny coming from you. What makes them so bad?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not getting into that. I don’t want to talk about him.”

“By all means, tell me what you’d like to talk about. I try to talk to you in a normal way, and it just turns into a fight.”

Garrett straightens up his tray and stacks it on top of Nora’s. He starts to reach for her hand out of habit. They both pretend not to notice. “How’s your garden?”

“My garden?”

“I remember you were digging it up. Trying to start over.”

Nora laughs. “Oh God, I was a crazy person. It’s still sitting there. It needs more work. I need to find some ideas. What do normal people plant in gardens?”

Garrett laughs. “Flowers, vegetables, whatever you want. I think you’ll have to wait until spring to start planting, but I can help you with that, too.”

Everything inside is screaming for her to say yes. Planting flowers, going to hardware stores, making a life with Garrett—that’s all she’s wanted, since the day she first met him. This whole situation is too much. She should have known it would end this way.

“Why don’t you walk me back to the convention center instead?”

He nods, understanding. “Let’s go.”

They walk in silence, neither of them knowing what to say. They go through one crosswalk, and then the next. As they’re strolling down the last block, Garrett shoots his shot.

“Do you remember when we met?”

Nora smiles. “Yes, it wasn’t all that long ago.”

“Well, that was pretty easy, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I liked you and you liked me. We didn’t really have to convince each other of anything. It was an immediate thing.”

Nora stops on the sidewalk. “Say what you’re trying to say, please.”

He takes her elbow and guides her out of the way of the other pedestrians. They both notice that this is the first time they’ve touched in a long time.

“I’m saying I didn’t have to do much wooing when we first met. I asked you out and you said yes.”

Nora tilts her head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He takes a gamble and reaches for both of her hands, and she lets him hold them.

“You deserve to be wooed, and I’m prepared to do that. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere, and I’m not. Until you give me another chance.”

Nora snatches her hands away. “So, what, you’re going to stalk me? Showing up here is a little creepy. I get to have a say in my own life.”

“The woman I love was accepting an award in a public place.”

“Don’t act like I’m crazy.”

“You’re not at all crazy. I hear what you’re saying. I saw you with Johnny. I know you’re trying to move on.”

“You’re blowing that out of proportion.”

“I see how he looks at you.”

“And how is that?”

Garrett looks down at his shoes, debating. “Like you’re something to win.” He holds his hands in the air. “Please don’t yell at me for telling the truth. If you want to go down that road with him, I hate it, but it’s your choice. I’m not going to fight over that. It’s not worth it.”

“You’re talking in circles.”

He sighs. “You scramble my brain a little. You always have. All I’m saying is that you should do whatever you feel like you need to do. And I will be around.”

“What if I don’t want you to be around?”

“Well, I’ve been listening closely today, and you haven’t said no once.”

She opens her mouth with a rebuttal, but he holds up his hand.

“You don’t have to yell at me. I know. I do love you, and I also respect you, and no means no. If you want me gone at any point, say the word and I’ll go.”

He just had to use the L word. Nora takes a deep breath. “I want to go home now.”

“If you’ll ride with me, we’ll leave right now. My car is in the deck.”

“I agreed to ride with Johnny, and my stuff is in his truck already. I’m supposed to meet him at the convention center.”

“Can I walk you back to the door, and I promise I’ll leave?”

They take the short walk back to the door in silence.

“It was good seeing you,” Garrett says. “Thank you for lunch.”

“You paid. I should be thanking you.”

He shakes his head. “I’d like to hug you goodbye, if that’s okay.”

Nora can’t help but get close to the flame, so she reaches for him first. She wraps her arms around his waist, and he pulls her close, pressing his face into her hair. They both pretend not to notice the tears in Nora’s eyes as she walks through the door and leaves Garrett standing on the sidewalk.

—

Nora walks around the convention center, waiting for Johnny, thinking about her day. She woke up wondering what was going on with Johnny, and now Garrett has added himself into the mix, as if he’d ever really left in the first place. Of course she loves him, but nothing has changed, lunch or no lunch.

Johnny texts that he’s almost back, and Nora meets him outside. Once she’s in the truck she asks, “Are you drunk?”

“No, are you?” he asks, giving her a once-over.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing with Larry, and I don’t want to ride with a drunk driver.”

“I wouldn’t pick you up if I were drunk, Clanton.”

“Great—let’s go home then.”

Neither of them says a word until they get out of Birmingham and onto the interstate. Nora is perfectly content with this, because it gives her the chance to overthink the past few days, past few weeks, and, hell, the past year of her life. She figured she would be upset today, but she thought it would be for a different reason.

Johnny breaks the silence: “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Which part?”

“Either the part when you got a miniature tombstone for your father in front of a crowd of people or the part where your ex-boyfriend showed up like a knight in shining armor.”

She laughs. “That all happened at once, didn’t it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Do you think the speech went well? Be honest.”

“The speech was great. They’ll make kids memorize it for public speaking class.”

“Have you ever thought about being serious when someone asks you a serious question?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Part of the charm, Clanton.”

“I can’t believe all of those people stood in line to talk to me. My parents would have loved that.”

“But you didn’t?” he asks.

“I’m just not good at talking to people.”

“Not liking it and not being good at it ain’t the same.”

“Is this your version of flattery?”

“If I were trying to flatter you, you’d know it.”

“Oh, right, I forgot.”

“I would tell you that even holding a tombstone trophy, you were the most beautiful woman in that room.”

“In a room full of sixty-year-old men? Gee, thanks, Johnny.”

“Does this mean you don’t want to talk about the ex-boyfriend?”

“Nothing to say. I was surprised to see him. But nothing has changed.”

“He looked rich.”

She rolls her eyes.

“That was an expensive suit.”

“So is yours!”

“Well, I don’t usually meet people on my level.”

“Oh, please. You’re not a Rockefeller.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Clanton. Am I a spoiled plantation owner or not?”

“You definitely are.”

“He was good-looking, too. Like James Bond.”

“Yes, he’s good-looking.” No one could disagree with that.

“And still pining after you,” he says, glancing across the truck to see her reaction.

She shrugs as if she’s never had a care in the world. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not sure I’m buying that,” Johnny says. “But I’m glad he showed up.”

“Why?”

“To put a face on the competition.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “It’s not a competition.”

“Well, not for long. I do intend to win.” He has the audacity to wink.

“Why don’t you concentrate on driving for a while? You’re making my hangover come back.” She finds the button to lay her seat back and turns to face the window.

“Your wish is my command.”

They arrive back in Rabbittown, and Nora gathers her things as Johnny pulls his truck into a parking spot in front of her store.

“Thank you for the ride,” Nora says. “And for everything else.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he says, unleashing the full force of one of his smiles on her. “I’d like to call you later.”

She hesitates, so he adds, “No pressure.”

“That would be okay with me,” she says.

When she gets home, she unlocks her front door and walks straight to her room to lie down on the bed. She can’t think any more about today. Not about her thoughts or her feelings or the store or her love life. She has no idea what she’s doing, and she doesn’t expect to figure it out anytime soon.