Final Arrangements (14 page)

Markham nodded. "It meets all State
requirements," he said. "Some people on a budget like to spend a
little less on the casket and a little more on the flower
arrangements."

"I could never lay Dad to rest in something
like that," Shannon said. "Could the designers have possibly picked
out a more depressing shade of gray? I think Dad would've liked the
simplicity of the pine box, but what will people say when they come
to the funeral? They'll look at that thing and think I was too
cheap to bury my own father properly. Eeek!"

"With plenty of flowers--"

"--No. I've made my decision. I think we'll
simply have Dad cremated. That way we won't need a coffin. We'll
just pick out something tasteful in an urn, and put the urn next to
a picture of Dad at the service."

Markham smiled, as that of a knowing parent
to a confused child. "State regulations require that the deceased
be placed in a casket in any event," he said.

"In any event? You mean whether we cremate
him or not."

"Yes."

"What happens to the casket if we have the
remains cremated?"

"The casket itself is part of the
cremation."

Oh Death, where is thy sting?
The
apostle had bravely penned the question, likening the mortal enemy
to a scorpion. A question she could answer easily. She knew where
the stinger of death was. It was broken off right in her heart.
"Stretch? I'm feeling a little at a loss, here."

"Take a deep breath," Stretch said. "With me.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Father in Heaven, please help us to carry
this cross. Lord, we know you're with us, and that we're able to
receive your grace right now. We ask in faith that you please give
Shannon the strength to walk across this dark river."

"I'll be in my office if you have any
questions," Markham said, departing noiselessly across the thick
carpet and out the heavy door.

"I don't know what to do," Shannon said.

Stretch sighed. "It's a sales thing," he
said.

"A what?"

"Markham got to you. He psyched you out.
Probably does it to everybody just the way he did it to us right
now. Used car dealers do it all the time. First they show you the
most expensive car on the lot, then they show you a real clunker.
You wind up buying something in the middle. Nobody buys the Eterna
Viktor because it's $55,000. And likewise, nobody buys the
Heritage, because it's made of particle board, it's an
embarrassment to them. But what we wind up doing is buying
something that's a lot more expensive than we planned. We can still
feel good about it, though, because whatever we bought was a whole
lot better looking than the pine box and a darn sight cheaper than
the Eterna."

"Dear Lord."

"There's one over here." He led her to it.
"The Oakhurst. Dignified. And only $7,500."

"No," she said.

"Okay," he said. "There's some more over
here--"

"No. I'm buying the Eterna Viktor."

"Shannon--you can't cremate somebody in a
$55,000 coffin."

"--There'll be no cremation. I'm going to
give Dad the best send off a man can have. The man was an engineer.
He'll appreciate being vacuum packed inside a zinc liner. His
friends will marvel at the concrete walls lining the walls of the
interment site. And Dad'll also enjoy ..."

The tears that came from this surge of
feelings were different than those she was used to. They came in
large, steady drops, which kept tempo for a cascade of emotional
images which flurried inside her. Images of Joe, slicing Swiss
cheese to make sandwiches for a family picnic. Napping on the sofa
after a hard day's work. Taking her to the Seafood Broiler, then
embarrassing her by removing his glasses to better peer closely at
his trout looking for stray bones. Hugging her hard after her first
fender bender in the new car. Smiling at her as she successfully
held her breath underwater for one minute in the pool. Sitting in
the bleachers on a rainy Friday night as she cheered her heart out
for the football team.

"I'm sorry," she said, accepting yet another
clean hanky Stretch offered her from one of his cargo pockets.
"You're so thoughtful."

"I loaded up on them earlier. I've got as
many as you need."

"Thank you, Stretch. "I need to go outside
and get some air. Tell Markham we'll take the Oakwood."

"Amen to that. I'll get your mother's ashes
from the car, and then I'll tell Markham," Stretch said, as they
walked out to the car.

Chapter 9

The outside air was overly warm as the
afternoon sun fingered the lapels of the hillside. Stretch popped
the trunk, fetched the box with the remains of Mom, and jogged it
back inside, later emerging at a slower gait, with a somber
expression forming about his lips. Inside the cockpit, he hit the
one-touch convertible top button, forcing the top to whine overhead
and settle with expert precision into place. The freeze-dried air
from the vents was cool and clean and Shannon found herself
inhaling greedily, as though she'd been limiting her ration of it
the entire time she'd been inside the facility. Stretch looked at
her.

"I wish you could've seen the look on
Markham's face when I told him you'd take the Eterna."

"You what?"

"I guess I couldn't resist a little prank, so
I told him you'd take the Eterna Viktor," Stretch said.

"Stretch, that was wrong."

"I know. His face fell 10 feet when I told
him I was only kidding. He's probably never sold one in his
life."

"I don't know, Stretch. We are awfully close
to Hollywood. Maybe he sells them by the gross to all the new age
people up in the hills."

"Don't make fun of my neighbors."

"You live in the Hollywood Hills?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Spring Oak Drive. Just off Canyon, about
halfway up the hill."

An expensive location. Where many of the
movie people lived. She wondered if perhaps he wasn't rich after
all. The only question remaining was exactly how rich. "Do you
think your neighbors buy Eterna Viktors? Do you, Stretch?"

"Maybe. I doubt it. I think they're all into
being frozen until the technology to make them immortal is
developed."

"That's a laugh. And in direct contradiction
to the Bible."

"I don't know. When Jesus comes to rule and
reign, some of us will live a thousand years. Maybe it'll be
because of the new technology."

"Now you're being ridiculous. They'll live
the thousand years because sin will be taken out of our bodies.
There won't be any more evil microbes to enter our cells and hijack
our DNA."

"What happens after the thousand years?"

"Then they'll have to die to be resurrected.
It's appointed unto us but once to die, and then comes Judgment
Day. But nothing would surprise me anymore."

"It's after four," he said. "How are you
holding up?"

"At the nearest gas station, pull in," she
said. "I need a Coke and a bag of barbecue Fritos in the worst way.
My throat is completely parched."

He hit the Chevron on Buena Vista. They went
in and purchased Cokes, well-chilled, and a big bag of Fritos and
began to crunch the chips and drink the Coke before they even made
it to the counter.

"I can see why this drink has spread all the
way to China," Stretch said. "It's just like the commercial says.
The real thing."

"Yes. I sometimes feel sorry for people who
lived before it was invented. Who drank only water and had an
average life span of 40 years. Stretch, you looked kind of sad
coming out of the Mortuary for the second time." She watched
Stretch hand over a ten-dollar bill and receive very little change
in return from the highway robber who ran the convenience
store.

"Markham gave me a receipt for your mother,"
he said. "I nearly broke down at that, for some reason. Up until
then, I was fairly strong. Imagine. Getting a receipt for
somebody's mother."

"Can we talk about something else? I'm sorry,
but I'm exhausted," she said.

"I'll take you home. You'll feel better after
a nap."

"No. I can't go back there. Not after all
that's happened. It's too depressing staying there. Take me to the
Sheraton. I'm going to get a room high up on the 21st floor, an
expensive room with a view towards the Hollywood side. I need the
comfort of something impersonal. I'm also in dire need of some
major pampering. I'm going swimming in their fabulous lagoon shaped
garden swimming pool and then I'm going to take a hot jacuzzi and
get a massage and try and do something with my hair before I meet
you for dinner."

"Fair enough," he said. "Dress casual. It's
only Dr. Hoggly Woggly's. Most of the time you'll be up to your
elbows in barbecue sauce and covered by one of their big plastic
bibs."

"I'll probably pick up a simple outfit and
some sandals in one of the shops," she said. "And I'm going to need
other basic essentials. That's why I want to stay there. It's a
miniature city. I'm going to make it my command post for the
duration."

"See you tonight, then," he said.

"Stretch? Thank you. And I mean that. I
couldn't have gotten through this day without you."

"It was nothing."

"Yes it was. You need to learn how to accept
thanks. Oh, and another thing. Don't tell my brother where I'm
staying. Not until we can be sure he's back on the wagon. Which
we'll know if he shows up for the dinner tonight."

"Okay." Stretch maneuvered expertly through
the thickening traffic and in no time at all, Shannon found herself
alone, clutching a plastic room key in the cool polish of the
Sheraton lobby, where they'd anticipated her every need.

With the help of a personal shopper referred
to her by the concierge, she dictated the list of items she'd need,
on impulse grabbed a likely swimsuit from a colorful rack of them,
and headed for the elevator.

The suite, opened onto a breathtaking
panorama of southern and westerly views, the smog-tinged mix of
valley flatlands and rounded mountain knolls which had been home
for so much of her life.
It still is home
, she thought.
I
left it, but it never left me. I'll always be an Angeleno. Maybe I
should face the fact and return. Give up San Francisco for good. I
can do it. I can come home and try and put things back the way they
were.

She dialed a number.

"Brunstetter and Griffen," a dry but rich
male voice answered. David Bergstrom, their intern, who was
summering with them before finishing up his Masters from the
University of San Francisco. A bright young man who'd attended
Boston College, worked formidable hours and had impressed them all.
A young man who reminded her that not so long ago she had been in
his position, doing everything she'd been asked, praying she'd make
the grade. It all seemed like a thousand years ago.

"David? It's Shannon."

"Hi," he said. "How's things in L.A.
going?"

"Rough. But I'm coping. Are you working on
anything special at the moment?"

"Just the usual gopher stuff surrounding the
Kremsky signing."

"When you can get a free minute, I've got a
special project for you. Something a little unusual."

"I'm up for that," he said.

"I want you to pull up all the information
you can on a business based in Los Angeles called The Pool Guy. The
owner's name is John Murphy."

"The guy who wrestles the hippopotamus,"
David said.

"You've seen that?"

"I was in Santa Monica two weeks ago visiting
some friends. We were watching an old Bogey flick on Night Owl
Theater when I saw the commercial. Very funny stuff. So what's the
deal? Did you meet him? Is there really a pool guy, or is it just a
gimmick?"

"Yes. I met him today. He's very real. He was
a friend of my father's."

"Is he rich? Looking to invest? Are you going
to sign him up with us?"

"David, I need you to keep this between us
for the moment. I'm asking you to check him out as a personal
favor. I want a full workup. I want credit history, bank
affiliations, where he went to high school, who his friends were,
photos, you name it. I need to know if the guy's legit."

"Interesting. Should I say ooh-la-la
yet?"

"Not yet."

"How soon do you need the report?"

"Tomorrow afternoon if you can swing it.
Whatever information you come up with, just e-mail it to me."

"I'll start tonight," he said.

"No," she said. "Go out and have fun
tonight."

"Now that doesn't sound like the Shannon
Ireland I work for."

"I've changed in ways you can't possibly
imagine in the past 24 hours. Believe me, life is short. You're too
young to spend all your time working the way you have. You can stop
trying to impress me. You know I'm going to recommend you to the
firm the minute you graduate."

David laughed. "And not just because I make
good coffee, I hope."

"Not on your life. In fact, your coffee is
mediocre. Now do as I say and take the evening off. Life is too
short to spend it all on work."

"I'll give you a progress report in the
morning," he said, obviously intending to work late in spite of her
advice.

"Thank you, David."

"Good-night, Shannon."

She dropped heavily onto the couch, feeling
the strength leave her frame. And on an impulse, speed dialed her
father. Four rings later, the recording cut in.
This is Joe. I'm
probably here, but I'm too old to run to the phone anymore. I'll
call you back as soon as I can. Better leave your name and number,
too, because my memory's shot. Bye, now.

Awww Dad
, she thought.
You funny
man. My life is changed, now. In ways I don't even yet understand.
I was strong, but now I'm vulnerable. I didn't think I needed you,
the way I did when I was a little girl. But now there are so many
questions I wish I could ask you.