Page 81 of Ugly Duckling
I eyed my hair.
It was so damn long it’d take me forever, but the hopeful look in her eyes had me reaching back to take my hair out of the ponytail. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
She nodded her head excitedly, and I got to work.
It took me three times as long, and by the time I was done, my shoulders were aching like a bitch.
“Now, let’s get dressed.”
I dressed her in black leggings, tennis shoes, and a cute little Nike sweatshirt.
I dressed myself the same, and we were out the door fifteen minutes later, and at the next funeral home fifteen minutes after that.
I’d called ahead to make sure that it was okay to bring Lottie, and the funeral director had readily agreed, saying that she loved kids and she missed her grandchildren. She’d urged me to bring her on, and she wasn’t lying. She greeted Lottie like they’d known each other their whole lives.
“There’s my girl,” the funeral home director called. “Come on over here!”
Lottie headed over to her desk, excited to get loved on by her, and I got to work in the back.
It took me two hours to do the two clients, and all that time, Lottie came and went, uncaring about the dead person that I was working on.
Who did care was a woman that was coming in the door as Lottie and I were getting ready to leave.
I had no clue who she was, but she narrowed her eyes as she looked from me to Lottie, who was sitting on the bench three rows away from me, and back.
I didn’t like the way that she was looking at me, so I walked to Lottie and picked her up, wanting to make sure that she didn’t go and reach for my girl and run out with her.
The way she was staring was unnerving.
“Who’s this?”
I smiled and shifted the girl on my hip, making her giggle.
“This little girl,” I said as I tickled her tummy. “Is my best friend ever.”
“No, but really. Who is that?”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Who are you?”
The woman crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I’m not sure that you need my name.”
“And I don’t think you need ours,” I said. “Have a nice day.”
The woman didn’t take the hint, but the funeral director came in and said, “Ma’am, can I help you?”
“I’m here to pay for a funeral.”
The funeral director gave her most winning smile and said, “That’s great. Follow me and I can get you the help that you need.”
I waved at her, letting her know that I was mostly finished, and she nodded her head at me in response.
I took Lottie with me to the table I was using to hold my stuff and said, “You about ready to go, Beanie?”
“Yeah,” she said in her cute little cherubic voice. “I’m hungry!”
I smiled.
That didn’t surprise me any.
