Page 44 of Leo
Does not compute…“What?One million what?”
“Views, dork!One million views on this video alone!Oh my god, are you sure you’re not like a hundred years old or something?I just posted it on Friday and—”
“Seriously?”I muttered, but didn’t expect any sort of reply.I stared at the video, at the number of viewers on just that one silly little five-minute chunk of time, me making a batch of sour pickle and pretzel savory muffins.Bethany had edited it down and, between her and her friend Mikah, had managed to make it a slick but cheery, accessible and entertaining little video that showed off the bakery even as I rambled about the recipe and why I chose it.“What about the others?”I asked, suddenly nauseated with nerves and excitement.
“This,” she whispered, tapping her phone, “will save Nice Buns!Look!”She scrolled down the page, showing me the three other videos she’d made.Each had been released on a different day, each with a truly astonishing number of views.The next most viewed one was the video of me making sauerkraut cake (those Happy Farmer Valley ladies finally got me), followed by water pie.All of them showed me baking something, edited enough so it wasn’t revealing proprietary recipes but still showing parts of the process.I was talking to Bethany off screen, answering questions about some of what I was doing, from the looks of things.In one thumbnail, I recognized the bright yellow shirt from the wildlife center she’d got me and knew it was the video we’d recorded just a few days before, when Ira had hovered in the kitchen, asking me questions about the strawberry shortcake cups I was making.We were joking about the foods, the recipes, how weird some of them were.“I, um… I got some help editing them from Mika.”She shrugged.“She’s cool.She made sure they don’t look dorky or anything.”Bethany fidgeted with the end of one of her plaits, twisting it around her finger as she did her best to stare at some spot over my shoulder.“She’s cool,” she repeated.
She’s coolmeantshe’s not bullying me.The notion that Bethany’s bar for friendship was so low as only requiredon’t make my life a living hellas an entry for the pleasure of her company made something pang in my chest.But before I could even begin to unpack that, I had to deal with my apparent surprisingly viral video about cabbage-based chocolate cake.“Bethany, I never agreed to do this.You recorded me without my permission.”
She frowned.“You kept dodging the question when I asked!And besides…” She trailed off, her fire fading a bit, the mutinous set of her jaw softening.“I thought you’d be excited when you saw how much people liked the videos and you wouldn’t be mad at me,” she muttered.Mika’s great at this sort of thing.She asked if I wanted help with them and I kind of panicked and said yeah.”Another helpless shrug.“But look!A million views, Am!For sauerkraut cake!And look!”She scrolled back up.“I set up a channel for the shop.I mean, I think you need to fiddle with it to make it like an official business account or something butlook!”
I took her phone and started thumbing through the videos she’d posted.They weren’t movie-grade professional, but they definitely looked much better anything I would have made.And the comments were largely great.A few people sayingoh grossor making fun of my appearance, the shop, god only knows what else, but most of the ones I glanced at were kind, some funny, a lot of people sharing memories of grandparents’ weird recipes or wondering if we shipped out of state.“Holy shit,” I muttered.“What do I do about this?”
“I think,” Bethany said, fairly vibrating with excitement, “you should call that lady from the paper and see if she still wants to run a story.”
“Uh…” I shook my head.“I don’t know about that.”
“Am,” she hissed, grabbing my biceps and giving me a little shake.“Cookbooks.Merch.”
“Merch?What the hell are you talking about?Oh my god, did you make t-shirts or something?”I stared around wildly, fully expecting to see a rack of shirts or something where there’d been tables before.“Bethany!”
“I haven’t made any,” she said with a heavy sigh.“But I might have kind of designed some things?”She squinted one eye, making a slightly nervous, mostly excited face.“I can show you?”
I stared at the thumbnails.One million views.Holy shit.One million views from people who thought what I was doing was interesting… And might want to throw some money the shop’s way in some form or another… “Shit.Okay, grab your notebook.But no filming me without my permission again, got it?I’ll take the whole channel down if you post anything I don’t approve of first.”
Bethany nodded, scurrying toward the office with a tiny, happy squeal.
I shook my head, staring at those damn video thumbnails again.Fucking hell.One million views… I need to send a thank you note to the descendants of those Happy Farmer Valley church ladies.
CHAPTER15
LEO
The Ramirez funeralwent as well as funerals could, Mr.Ramirez’s departure for Beth Israel cemetery leaving the home quiet despite Lorna running the vacuum in Garden of Memory room.I took some time to update my ledger and make sure the schedule for the coming week was set, then met with a family coming in to make arrangements for their grandmother who passed suddenly but not entirely unexpectedly.
“I know it’s kind of ridiculous,” Karla Alexander, a nursey school teacher who’d actually had Edward in her class just a few years ago, said through her tears.“She was ninety-five years old.She’d been in decline for a while.But we just didn’t expect it to happennow.”
I gently nudged the box of tissues across my desk toward her.Her husband Matthew pulled a few out to offer her while keeping his arm around her shoulders, comforting her as she dissolved into a fresh round of tears while their college-aged son patted her back, his own eyes bloodshot.“It’s always sudden,” I said.“No matter how well we prepare, when it happens it always feels like the worst sort of surprise.”
She nodded.“Exactly.We’d known for a while she wasn’t doing well, but her doctors said she wasn’tdying, just… aging.”
Her husband glanced up at me.“We’ve heard it all this week.”He sighed.“Platitudes, sympathetic nonsense.I know people mean well, but it feels kind of hollow.Karla and her grandma were very close,” he added.“Lillian raised her after Karla’s parents died when she was a kid.”
Karla muffled a sob.“Sorry.It just doesn’t feel real.”
I nodded, half-rising to my feet.“I do understand.Would you like some privacy?I can step out?”
“No, no,” the woman protested, waving me back down into my chair.“I’ll be okay.It’s not going to get any easier, is it?”she asked, giving me a watery, thin smile.“Now.I know this is going to be painful,” she chuckled weakly.“Let’s do this hard part.”
I talked them through the process, showing them the binder of options we had for caskets, for urns if they went with cremation.We went through the worst part—discussing the actual grave itself, the liners and the requirements for physical burial, all the things that made people think not just of the body, but what would happen to the body of their loved one over time.
Karla had managed to stem her tears for a bit but as we got to the final costs, she burst into a fresh round.“I’m not mad, I swear, but why the hell is this so expensive?We’re burying her, not buying a new house!”
Matthews hook his head.“I know this is a business but…” he sighed.“Can we have a minute?We need to sort some things out.”
“Of course,” I murmured, stepping out of my office and into the small waiting area closed off from the rest of the home.
They’re struggling, too.He’s on disability and she’s a preschool teacher.This funeral could bankrupt them.You know you could help.Write off the facility cost at least, knock off a few thousand.Set up a really long payment plan.Pick up Benson’s tradition of helping the community.
