Right again.
“Now pull up those big girl granny panties I know you’re wearing, and let’s get this fucking bullshit over with.”
“Right. Let’s go.” I reach for Nate’s hand and nod in his direction. “I’m ready.”
Except, I’m not. Especially when we open the church doors, and everyone, and I mean everyone turns to see who just entered.
“It’s about time.” Travis’s voice is loud. I don’t see him right away, but he stands and starts walking down the main aisle toward us. Stomps is probably more accurate. “You’re late. The service is about to start.” He’s in front of me now. “My God, Prudie, you haven’t changed a bit You’re still so inconsiderate. You’ve always been that way.”
I came here as a courtesy. He practically begged me to attend. Hell, he begged me for help with the planning of this retched event. He wanted my input on the bible passages to be read, the flowers to be ordered, and the music. The big jerk.
“Travis.” I lean in and whisper since he’s speaking at full voice so everyone can hear. “If you don’t stop talking to me like I work for you, I’m leaving. I’m turning right around and––.”
“You wouldn’t.”
I arch my brow. “I don’t have to take this from you anymore, Travis. You’re being a jerk.”
And then his stupid lip begins to quiver, his eyes look like they’re filling with tears, and I’ve got to fight the eye roll. This is another one of his tactics. Tears.
“You wou-wouldn’t.”
I’m not falling for it. Not even today. “I will.”
“Fine.” He places his hand on my upper arm. “You’re sitting with me.”
“No.” I pull away from him, knowing I’m making a spectacle. “I’m sitting with my friends.”
Travis glares at Laura first, then his glare turns into a downright scowl. “I can’t believe you brought him.”
“He’s my…” What is he?
Nate does the work when he responds. “Boyfriend.”
“Yeah.” I nod, even though I’m not sure about that label just yet. “My boyfriend.”
“Suit yourself.” Travis stomps back to the front. That’s when I see Barbie dressed in black. She’s got a black hat on with a veil of some sort covering her face. She reminds me of a character from an old movie. A villain. Except she waves, and I think she gives me a weak smile, but it’s hard to tell due to the veil.
“Over here.” Laura tugs on my sleeve to a pew with three empty seats. The people around us still haven’t taken their eyes off us. The expressions on their faces range from sneers to smirks, and one older woman gives me a wink. I have no idea how to take that wink, but whatever.
* * *
The funeral was long.Like two hours long. Ridiculously long. Unnecessarily long. There were three speakers, four singers, about seven people who read scriptures from the bible, a guitar player, and a sermon from the minister. And throughout the whole thing, you could hear Travis sobbing. Let me repeat myself. Throughout thewholething. It was brutal. About halfway into it, Nate leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You owe me for this.”
I patted his leg, then gave it a squeeze. I let my hand travel up a bit, not too far, but enough to let him know I had his back. Or his front, in this case.
That seemed to appease him.
Laura on the other hand, let her head rest on the back of the pew. Periodically, she mumbles things like, “Kill me now” and “This bitch isn’t worth this kind of time.” The people sitting nearby heard her. A few muttered things about disrespect while others laughed. I wanted to be one of the latter, but I held it in. Laura can get away with stuff like that, but I can’t.
When it finally ended, we had to wait until each and every row was dismissed before we could leave. I guess coming late and choosing the back row isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. When we’re finally released, I make a beeline for the bathroom. The line is long, so it takes extra time, but my bladder can’t wait.
With a sigh of relief, I make my way out into the crowd of people still lingering in the church lobby. Many of them have flowed out to the parking lot to watch Celeste’s coffin being loaded into the hearse. I weave around a few people in search of Nate’s tall body when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I see a man I don’t recognize in a dark suit.
“Hi.” I turn, assuming he tapped my shoulder on accident, when he does it again. I ask, “May I help you?”
“I need to speak with you.” That gets the attention of the people nearby. “In private.”
“Who are you?”
