Page 6 of Leo
I didn’t need to see to know she’d flipped me off.I recognized the sort of silence that followed her retreat, and I’d been fifteen once, too.The number of times I’d flipped off adults was easily in the thousands.The number of times I’d beencaughtdoing it was less than three but really, they were painfully memorable times.
“Fucking hell,” I muttered, pushing away from my desk and leaving the email to languish a bit longer.Checking my reflection in the cheap mirror I hung on the back of my office door (after a long morning in the kitchens, you never could be too sure you’d gotten all the flour and food coloring off without a good gander in the mirror), I made sure I was somewhat presentable before slapping my game face on and striding through the kitchen to the front of the shop.
A tall, lithe man in a dark suit popped up from one of the tables, a young boy with tell-tale blue smears on his face tumbling to his feet beside him.“Mr.Jennings?”
Christ.Let me get more than an inch into the front of house, for fuck’s sake.“That’s me,” I agreed, heading around the counter and extending my hand.Up close, what I’d taken to be chocolate brown eyes were closer to the color of brown sugar.A smattering of freckles dusted his nose and cheeks, and the tiniest mole was tucked near the left corner of his mouth.A tiny beauty mark, I thought with the hint of a desperate giggle catching in my throat.Oh no, he’s hot.
He grabbed my hand and shook it firmly, part of me noting his long fingers and strong grip while the rest of me braced for whatever complaint was coming.Prepare to be disappointed,I thought.
“I’m Leo Morris, of Morris Family Funeral Home and Crematorium,” he began and I gasped.A small frown marred his otherwise handsome face and he sighed.“Alright?”
“Oh!I mean.Sorry, I wasn’t, like, shocked that you’re the funeral director or something but I was just thinking of you!”At his confused expression, I shook my head and rambled onward, “I mean, your family.Your dad, I guess?Whoever used to run the home about ten years ago?”
“My uncle,” he said carefully, like he was waiting to see if his admission was about to trigger some sort of explosion.“I inherited the business when he died about five years ago.”
I nodded.“I remember hearing he’d passed.I’m sorry for your loss.”He raised a brow, distinctly unimpressed with my word vomit.“Just, I was thinking about my—our,” I jerked my thumb at Bethany, “folks and how much your uncle really helped us out when they died.If it hadn’t been for him…” I trailed off and shook my head.“He was very kind and generous with a scared college kid.”
Leo’s face underwent a rapid-fire series of expressions ranging from surprise to annoyance then settling on bland politeness.
A very funeral director expression, I realized, that giggle from earlier almost escaping.“I’m glad he was able to offer you comfort in a difficult time,” Leo said quietly.“It’s not easy when losing a parent, much less two at once.”
“Do you have like a list of things to say?”Bethany asked, leaning on the counter and sounding very interested in the answer.“I mean, when you go to funeral director school, do you have a class on how to talk to sad people and what to say to them so you don’t sound like a dick?”
“Dick’s a rude word,” the little boy beside Leo piped up.“It means penis, and if you want to say penis, say penis.”
Leo sputtered and I felt the blood rush to my face in a fierce blush, but Bethany just raised a brow at him.“Dick’s also a colloquial term for someone who’s a jerk, or rude or mean or something like that.But I guess your dad doesn’t want you saying it even if you mean someone’s acting like that, yeah?”
The kid shook his head, then looked up at Leo.“Dad?”
Leo made a strangled noise that reminded me of the ones I made when facing life, the universe, and everything some days.“I’d rather you didn’t.”
The kid shrugged.“Okay.Dick’s still a rude word.”
Bethany nodded solemnly.“I’ll keep that in mind.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, a hint of a smile tugged at her lips and her expression softened into something fond for just a few seconds before she disappeared behind her too-cool-for-this mask.Though, maybe I was imagining it, it wasn’t as angry as usual.
Leo passed a hand over his face, dragging it down his jaw and muffling what I could only assume were several choice swear words as he went.“Edward, why don’t you grab a chair and let me speak with Mr.Jennings here?”
Right.Down to business.Get your head in the game, Ambrose.“Ambrose.Please, call me Ambrose.I hear you’ve brought your order back?”I glanced past him to see two of the four tables in our small storefront piled high with our familiar blue boxes.“Was there a problem?”
“He says he didn’t order them,” Bethany piped up.“He called earlier.”
Leo gave me a tightlipped smile.“Yes, I spoke with someone named Nausicaa?”
“Did you now?”I glared at Bethany, who suddenly remembered she needed to change out the register tape, ducking her head to avoid seeing my face.“Well, I apologize.She’s been fired as of this morning.”
“Oh.Um, it wasn’t because of me, was it?”he asked hesitantly.“I mean, returning this order?I didn’t get her in trouble, did I?”
“No.”I sighed.“Nothing like that.But this is a huge order, Mr.Morris.Why return it?And isn’t the funeral this afternoon?I’m afraid we don’t have time to make a new order, especially not one of this size.”My stomach gave a queasy lurch as I thought of what the books would look like this week, having to eat the cost of this order.I couldn’t resell the cupcakes, and handing out this many, frankly rude, treats would definitely steer Nice Buns in a direction I did not want it to go.“Bethany, can you pull the order for Ms.Dennis’ funeral?”
“The thing is, no one at the home placed it and, frankly, Ms.Dennis didn’t have any family or friends who’d order catering for her funeral.Even if shehad,” Leo continued, looking somewhat pained, “the home wasn’t notified in advance.We need to make arrangements for catered services and generally don’t have food in the viewing rooms or chapel.”
“Maybe it’s a misunderstanding,” I said.“One of her friends, someone from her church or temple?”
He shook his head emphatically.“I don’t know how long you’ve been in Gaynor Beach, Mr.Jennings, but Delia Dennis was not someone with a social network much less anyone who’d want to mark her passing with some sort of catered get together.And judging by the decorations on the items,” he added, sending a glance toward his icing-smeared son who had somehow managed to take one of the treats out of a box and get back to his seat without any of us noticing.“And seeing as I helped her make her own arrangements, I can safely say this large order of cupcakes wasnotsomething she’d requested.”
“Um,” Bethany broke in a bit tentatively.“I found the original order in the binder.”She held up the red binder we kept under the front counter.We kept physical copies of all our orders there, no matter how they were made originally, and only cleared them out after twelve months had passed.“The signature is…” She hesitated.“Um.Here.”
