Page 4 of Four Weddings and a Funeral Director
Ah, next door. The yin to the funeral home’s yang. Where the funeral home was an all-black affair that dripped with velvet and obsidian and had an entrance marked by two black marble greyhound statues (which were, annoyingly, a favourite photo op of the tourists), the building next door was an extravaganza of colour. Sure, the exterior paint was mostly white, but there were pops of bright pink and yellow everywhere you turned, and more wildflowers than seemed acceptable in the planters out the front.
As Mort steeled himself to approach whatever perky creature would inhabit the building for the next twelve months, the front door swung, and a tiny woman with springy hair and a springy step emerged. She was wearing what Mort could only describe as the outfit of a recently landed skydiver, and carried a wooden sign under one arm. An orange-handled screwdriver poked out from one ear.
She was alarmingly bright, and alarmingly attractive. Mort’s heart was stuck somewhere between sinking with foreboding and ballooning with joy. He gulped, trying to get his sudden arrhythmia in order.No heart attacks, Mort,he chastised himself.Don’t be a statistical outlier!
‘Hey there!’ she said, in a voice that perfectly matched the crinkle of her bright blue eyes. ‘Looking to get married?’
‘What?’ Mort coughed, then thumped his chest. He was making an excellent impression here.
‘Guess not. I’m Lily, the town’s new wedding planner.’ She gestured at the shop that had until recently been home to Janessa Hodges, who after a brutal bout with influenza had moved instead to a small six-by-one subterranean abode at the Mirage-by-the-Sea Cemetery. Mort had helped her move in. (The townhad advertised none of this on the small business application FAQs.)
‘Are you local?’ she asked, her brow wrinkling slightly. She gave him a very thorough once-over. Then a twice-over. ‘You don’t … seem like a tourist.’
Mort glanced down at his all-black attire. What, the gleaming black Oxfords and the black pocket square didn’t scream beachgoer? ‘Mort. I work … around here. I was just wondering, did you collect a package earlier? For Eternal Elegance?’
Lily cocked her head. ‘Are you some kind of delivery quality assurance guy? Because this lovely old mandiddrop off a package – he even came in for a cup of coffee and a chitchat about his granddaughter’s wedding last September.’
Ah. Amelia May’s wedding. Mort had been invited, but he’d spent the day dealing with a funeral emergency instead. Who knew it would be so hard to find an on-call archaeologist to deal with some potential dinosaur bones in a funeral plot? At least Roddy had come by after with some sugared almonds to thank Mort for his gift of a customisable casket cap panel.
‘That would be Roddy,’ said Mort.
‘But there was some kind of mix-up.’ Lily paused to point out a hummingbird in a burst of hot-pink bougainvillea. ‘Don’t you love hummingbirds? Anyway, the business name was right, but they got the address wrong. I didn’t realise until after I opened it and found this vase inside.’
Mort grimaced. Ah yes, a vase. For flowers. Definitely not for the ashes of Meryl Halston, who was booked in for a date with the crematorium.
Then he frowned. ‘Wait. What do you mean the business name was right?’
Lily flashed the pink-and-white sign she’d been preparing to hang up outside her new building.Eternal Elegance – WeddingPlanner, it read, in a carefully hand-painted script surrounded by folk-art-style flowers and birds.
‘On top of that, I’ve been getting phone calls frombeyond the grave. Well, their loved ones, I suppose. I think there’s a crossed-line situation going on.’
Oh shit, thought Mort. Ohshit.
Just then, there was an incredible swishing sound as Franco and his workers hauled the striped tent down from the funeral home … revealing the black and gold hanging sign that perfectly matched Lily’s, right down to the name.
Eternal Elegance – Funeral Director.
‘There ya go, boss!’ called Franco. ‘Ain’t nothing alive in there now. Not even a cockroach could’ve survived that.’
It didn’t take a glance in the newly revealed windows to know that the look on Lily’s face mirrored the one on Mort’s.
‘I’ll … go get your urn,’ said Lily.
(Burial) Plot Twist
Lily
Lily sipped an emergency prosecco from the bar fridge in her shop, giving thanks to Janessa Hodges for including such an important appliance in her workplace decor.
Everything had very quickly turned topsy-turvy. When the tent had whipped off from the building next door, revealing a building straight out ofThe Munsters, Lily had felt as though she’d stepped through a mirror. (A bad one.) All black gingerbreading and stern gargoyles and black planters filled with midnight petunias, it was the evil twin of Lily’s new shop. Although the black greyhound sculptures out the front did have some charm. As did the wild-haired, dark-eyed, black-clad man who’d come hurrying up to the shop asking about a misdelivered parcel. A wild-haired, dark-eyed, black-clad man she hoped hadn’t noticed how she’d almost swooned when their gazes had clashed that first time. If she’d been one of her myriad recently married friends, she might have described it in romantic terms. Love at first sight. Lust at first sight. Hiccup at first sight. Some sort of very real visceral reaction to an incredibly hot man who’d come hurrying up … and whom she’d immediately pressed about his interest in marriage.
Lily groaned.Looking to get marriedindeed. What animpression she must have made. The man probably thought she was a stalker. Especially after she’d cleverly, and entirely accidentally, given her business the very same name as his. What were the odds? Lily stared ruefully at the vinyl decal she’d stuck on the front door, and the decorative flower-board she’d put up on an interior wall – the one where pink rosebuds spelled outEternal Eleganceagainst a gerbera backdrop.
Well, it explained all those strange phone calls. And the pretty vase that had turned out not to be a vessel for flowers at all, but a vessel for … well, Lily didn’t know exactly for whom, but she assumed it was someone of the human variety, not the floral variety.
At least her new business cards hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe she could tell the print shop to put a hold on those until she thought of a new business name. And new branding, and new decor …
No, absolutely not. She’d promised herself she was going to stick with something for once in her life, and she was going to see it through, no matter what.Think of the cheap rent, Lily.
