Mourning Routine (The Funeral Fakers Book 1) Page 4

  I hadn’t seen his father anywhere around today.

  “So, doing all this,” she waved around the kitchen and at me, “is to show the rest of this family they were wrong about him.” Mrs. McCormick chuckled to herself. “And even though Candy isn’t that great of a person, the family won’t notice. They’ll see her long legs and pretty face and think she’s a queen. Every passive aggressive comment she makes will fly right over their heads, unless she makes them to me. If that’s the case, they’ll admire her for standing up for herself.”

  “She sounds horrible,” I muttered as I began the process of dicing the onions into tiny pieces.

  “She is.” She tapped the wooden spoon alongside the pot and set it down on a trivet before she grabbed a towel to wipe her hands. “I called her to come home for the memorial and she claimed she just ‘positively could not break away from this important client’.” Her voice sharpened in a harsh mimic of Candy’s. “Among other things. They’d been together for an entire year and the only ones in the family who’ve seen her are just me, my husband and the kids. That’s a testament to how much Chase interacted with the world and to her ‘job’ or whatever it is that she does.”

  “Are you sure this is going to work?” I’d finished massacring the onion she’d given me, so I moved on to the carrots.

  She shrugged and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “If it doesn’t, does it matter? I just want Chase to have some respect. That’s all. Even if I couldn’t stand Candy even a little bit. She’s a pretty, successful woman dating a small-town man. That’s all it’s going to take.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I know you will, darlin’. Ruthie promised me she would send me a good one.”

  I swallowed hard on that one. Holy smackaroos. Ruthie had gone out on a major limb for me. My gaze narrowed as I stared down at the carrots. Why? Why had she entrusted someone she didn’t even know with an assignment this large?

  Suspicion reared its ugly head and I didn’t hear the next words Mrs. McCormick spoke until she put a hand on my shoulder.

  “Kitty?” Her tired eyes were filled with worry.

  I set the knife down. “Yes. Sorry. My thoughts went off the rails there for a moment.”

  “Hmm. It’s almost go time.” She studied my face. “Go make your lipstick darker.”

  I blinked. “It’s called Go-Time Red.”

  “It needs more get up and go. She’s a big city girl, Kitty. Think Samantha or whatever those girls were named from that HBO program.”

  I laughed in surprise. “You got it, Mrs. McCormick.”

  “Call me Emma,” she said. “Candy never would have called me Mrs.”

  I frowned. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Go fix your lipstick, Kitty. I have to go pretend I have my life together.”

  5

  Now that my lips were the color of a fire engine, I headed back into the kitchen only to hear the sound of the doorbell and Emma’s inhaled gasp of surprised breath. I offered to get the door for her - but she shooed me away.

  “Maybe just grab some wine glasses from the top cabinet over there.” She pointed above the refrigerator and rushed off to answer the door. I stood on tiptoes and pulled down four glasses. I had no idea who was going to be here except for the sister, but I wanted to make sure I had extra just in case.

  The sound of an insincere laugh and air kisses made their way back to me and I smiled to myself. It didn’t matter where you were. Putting on airs was the same. I searched around the kitchen for wine, but I couldn’t find a single bottle.

  A few moments later, Emma and a woman with icy blonde hair and pursed lips entered the kitchen. I could tell they were sisters simply because they wore the same face, but they seemed to be worlds apart. Standing at about the same height, Natalie I presumed, was more polished. As polished as you could be in a tiny North Carolina town. Her hair color could only be created in a salon and her makeup was pristine. She wore long acrylic nails painted a pale nude and they matched the lipstick she had on overly plump lips. Her blouse exposed her shoulders and billowed out down to her wrists and her pants were the cool white of winter. Jeweled sandals and an entitled attitude rounded the woman out.

  I disliked her immediately.

  I extended a perfectly manicured hand. “Oh,” I exclaimed as my mouth formed the smile of a hungry tiger. “You must be Natalia.”

  Amusement sparkled in Emma’s eyes.

  “Natalie,” the woman corrected, though her practiced smile slipped a bit.

  “Dear,” I said. “I’m so sorry. It’s just Natalia sounded so much more sophisticated. Silly me.”

  Emma was having a hard time holding in her smile.

  “Emma?” I inquired. “I see you have wine glasses here, but I’m afraid I couldn’t find a single bottle around here. Please don’t tell me you’ve resorted to buying the boxes again, even after our last conversation.”

  Natalie blinked at me and her expression cleared. A satisfied look formed in her eyes. “Oh yes, isn’t her wine the worst? We’ve been making fun of it for years.”

  I gave Natalie the once-over and smiled. “Well as a guest, it would have been wonderful to bring some now, wouldn’t it?”

  The woman blinked and smiled vacuously at me.

  Oh, gracious. Emma was right. For the first time since I started this thing, I began to wonder just how outrageous this was going to get before it was over.

  Emma brushed past me and bent down to the lower cabinets. She produced a bottle of red wine and took a towel to wipe the dust off of it. I wasn’t sure what kind of establishment she was running here, but there was never a bottle of wine in my house that stayed around long enough to get dusty.

  She handed it over to me. “Since you seem to be so interested.”

  I smirked. “It ups my tolerance level.”

  Emma rolled her eyes at me and rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers before tossing me an opener. I skillfully manhandled the wine until it opened with nary a piece of cork floating in the bottle.

  Who needed social graces when you had life skills like that?

  I poured Emma a very healthy serving of wine before I poured myself some. I shorted Natalie a little bit just because she seemed like a jerk. The sound of a timer went off and Emma nudged me over some. “I have to get the casserole out,” she explained.

  “Casserole?” I said. “Sounds upscale.” I wanted to cringe at myself and tell me to shut up, but I saw Emma’s lips quirk. Apparently, I was doing a good job.

  “Right?” Natalie added. “Like who can’t make a casserole?”

  I bet Natalie couldn’t make a casserole, but instead of saying that I sent the awful woman a commiserating glance. One that said, can you believe this lady and her casseroles?

  However, when I saw Emma pull off the top of the foil, drool pooled in my mouth because holy smokes it smelled delicious.

  My mother was a mean casserole maker. I mean, with a houseful of kids and a job, you had to take shortcuts where you could. But that wasn’t to say she couldn’t cook. She could and very well, too. My mother could make dumping a bunch of stuff in a dish into an art form. I still couldn’t replicate some of the casseroles she’d made over the years, but those things were integral to my childhood. The smell of Italian seasonings, melted cheeses and sausages made my mouth water, but tonight I was very careful not to compliment the chef even if she did remind me of my own mother. It wasn’t something Candy would have done. So, I pressed my lips together and pretended I was a food snob and her casserole was going to be terrible even though I couldn’t wait to secretly dig in and eat half my body weight. That was yet another thing Candy would not do, though, so I’d have to wait until Natalie left before I could make a glutton of myself.

  I let Emma set the table by herself even though my fingers itched to help her and watched as she carefully set out the casserole and the salad she threw together. She placed checkered napkins at our seats and set the bottle of wine down on the tabl
e. Natalie watched her with a curl of distaste on her overdone mouth. Sympathy flared in my heart for Emma. To lose a child, then have to deal with a family member who doesn’t seem to care? I turned away for a moment to gather myself.

  From the corner of my eye, the color blue flashed. I focused on it and smiled when I saw a vase full of pretty, blue hood-shaped flowers sitting by the window. “Emma?” I inquired.

  She looked up, her brow wrinkled.

  I pointed to the vase. “Those flowers are so pretty. What are they?”

  Emma gave a weird smile and began to set out the silverware. “No idea. Someone…close to Chase sent them to us.” Her lips curled in a frown. “Kind of strange, though. The delivery guy insisted on putting them in a vase and everything for us. Said it was a white hat kind of service.”

  I stared at the flowers, a feeling I couldn’t name stirring in my belly. I shook my head and turned back to the table. “Well, they look very healthy, and I’ve rarely seen a blue that pretty before.”

  Emma shrugged and shook out her napkin before she sat. “Ready?” she inquired. She made a point to pass right by me before she sat down and bent to whisper in my ear so low even I could barely hear her. “Candy sent those flowers.”

  I cringed at my stupidity and sank into my seat, vowing to be a lot more careful with what I said.

  Natalie took the seat directly across from me and farthest from her sister.

  “Dig in!” Emma declared and handed me a large spoon. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling as Natalie’s expression fell. Apparently, the princess was expecting to be served. I took out enough to make it look like I didn’t like casseroles and passed the dish over to Natalie who took it like she was holding a bug. Taking advantage of her distraction I winked at Emma and took a sip of my wine.

  When we’d settled in to the meal, Natalie ruined it all.

  “Have you received the autopsy report back on Chase?” she asked.

  A piece of Italian sausage caught in my throat and went down the wrong way. I coughed as discreetly as I could, but I sounded like a honking goose. Of all the things to discuss during dinner, I would put autopsies at the very bottom.

  Emma’s expression cooled, though I saw a hot flash of anger spark through her eyes. “We have. Can we talk about this later?”

  Natalie’s lips pursed. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” she whined. “It’s just an autopsy.”

  Emma’s jaw tightened. “Of my son,” she snapped.

  I let out a sigh. “Perhaps after dinner we can retire to the living room and talk about it?” I suggested. Emma gave me a grateful glance, but Natalie made a grunting noise and picked at her plate like she was searching through the casserole for gold.

  Dinner was silent as a tomb, the only sound the occasional scratching noise of the fork against the plate. I was at a total loss for words. Never had I been confronted with grief this strong or someone who had an emotional IQ as low as Natalie’s. I had a sister and for her to go through something like this seemed unfathomable to me.

  As soon as I finished the last bite, I scooted my chair out, picked up the wine bottle, poured myself and Emma another huge glass and plunked the bottle down next to Natalie. She could pour herself one if she wanted to.

  I headed into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, careful not to slosh my wine.

  Emma sat across from me and we stared at each other for a long moment until her lips began to twitch and I had to look away to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter.

  Natalie deigned to join us a few minutes later, her wine glass topped to the brim.

  “Now,” she said, as she folded herself into an old leather recliner. “Tell me about Chase.” Her expression turned falsely sympathetic. “You know we care about all of you. We’re just concerned something might be genetic and that everyone else would need to be careful.”

  I could smell the lie all over that one. She didn’t care. She just wanted to assuage her curiosity. People like her were a dime a dozen in LA.

  Emma stiffened, and I thought for a moment there was going to be an argument, but she relented. I’m not sure I would have, but I didn’t know the history between these two sisters. What I could see, though, was this kind of abuse had gone on for years.

  I sipped my wine too fast to keep from blurting out something nasty to the woman.

  “The autopsy came back as a heart attack. We’d already suspected for a while.”

  One of Natalie’s perfect eyebrows rose. “Was there something wrong with him?”

  Interesting that Emma hadn’t told her.

  She nodded. “He had Cardiomyopathy. We discovered it when he was a teenager. His death, though sooner than we all hoped, wasn’t completely unexpected.”

  Natalie made appropriate sympathy noises, but I could see the wheels turning in her head. “I’m assuming this came from Gary’s side of the family then?” She fluttered her hand. “This...weakness.”

  Emma sighed deeply. My fingers itched to smack Natalie. “We don’t know, Natalie. If you’re so concerned about it, you should see a cardiologist.”

  “Well,” she said, a sneer on her pretty face. “I’m sure all that television he watched didn’t help.” She stretched out her lean legs. “I do spin four times a week. I don’t have to worry about my fitness.”

  Could there be a more clueless woman on this planet? Staring at Natalie, I didn’t think so. A small hint of color appeared on Emma’s cheeks.

  I cleared my throat. How was I going to feign sympathy for Chase and still put this tyrant in her place? “Many heart defects haven’t been discovered yet.” I gave her a toothy grin. “Who knows? You could be the carrier of a wacky gene and not even know it until you’re face down in your creme brûlée!” I raised my wine glass. “Can you imagine the chatter in the press? You’d be famous!”

  Natalie seemed both delighted and confused by this prospect and I watched as she tried to figure out whether I’d insulted or praised her. It was going to take her a while, so I contented myself with watching her out of the corner of my eye.

  Emma’s eyes glittered with unshed amusement. “Imagine the possibilities,” she murmured before silence fell.

  Natalie left one awkward hour later and as soon as Emma had shut the front door behind her, she turned, leaned against the back of it and let out a loud groan.

  “Can you imagine living with her for almost twenty years?” she exclaimed.

  I shook my head in sympathy and chucked my shoes off. “Not even a little bit.” I bent down to pick them up by the straps and was going to retire to my room, but Emma motioned for me to sit back down.

  “Just for a bit. Gary is on a work trip he couldn’t get out of, and I so rarely have the house to myself.”

  I dropped my shoes and sat back down “I’m sorry that dinner was so awkward. It didn’t feel like it had a real point.”

  Emma shrugged. “Nosiness was the point. She doesn’t care about me. Or about Chase.” Her mouth twisted. “But there’s so rarely a death like this here that it’s stirred up a lot of curiosity.”

  “Ah,” I said, knowing where she was going with it. “Gossip.”

  She nodded. “Yup. She’s got this club she goes to once a week. They’re a bunch of old bitter hens.”

  “You didn’t give her much,” I remarked.

  “What is there to give? My son is dead. By all intents and purposes, it’s from natural causes.” Tears filled her eyes. “Though that shouldn’t apply to someone as young as my son, should it?”

  “No,” I agreed. “It really shouldn’t.”

  She sniffed and studied me. “You know, you were really terrible tonight.”

  I let out a surprised laugh. “I’m sorry. I did my best.”

  “No. I mean you were terrible in the way Candy was terrible. You nailed it. I got goosebumps a couple of times.”

  “Oh.” I frowned. I couldn’t decide whether to be proud of myself or horrified. “Well, this is why I’m here.�
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  “I’m sorry you were thrust into this. I hoped we’d have a day or two to prepare. My sister can be a bear, though.”

  I shook my head. “No worries. I would like to have a look in Chase’s room, though, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  At her blink, I pressed on. “I know it sounds presumptuous, but I’d like to see anything that has the potential to help me get into character before the funeral.”

  Emma appeared to think about this for a moment before she finally nodded. “Okay. That’s fair. Just be careful to not move things around too much. I still have to go in and decide what to do with everything. But.” She gave a quick jerk of her head. “I’m just not ready.”

  “I understand. I’ll keep everything the way it is. I’ll also be looking for anything Candy left behind.”

  Emma nodded and tilted back the rest of her wine. “All right. Help yourself.” She uncurled herself from the seat. “I’m heading to bed. Just turn out the lights when you’re finished.”

  I nodded but didn’t get up until she had shut her bedroom door behind her.

  What a night. I leaned my head back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling, my thoughts a jumble of confused emotion. Emma seemed like a very nice person and a caring mother. I had no idea why her other child wasn’t here with her. It seemed a shame to leave a grieving woman alone. I wondered if this was why she called me in earlier. Not to help me necessarily become Candy, but because she wanted company.

  I blew out a long breath and stood up. I headed over to Chase’s room but hesitated at the door. Was this necessary?

  No. Was I morbidly curious?

  Yes. Yes, I was.

  I pushed open the door and went inside.

  The first thing to hit me was the musty smell. Emma hadn’t cleaned in here for a while. By the smell of it, she hadn’t even opened his room since his passing. Not that it had been a long time, but it seemed like the door had been shut the day he passed on and the room hadn’t been touched since. I glanced around the room, noting not much out of the ordinary. It was a little strange that he still lived here with his parents, but if he had a serious heart defect, it made quite a bit more sense.