“I started making coffins,” he said. “A week later. People thought I had lost my mind. Your mom was gone by then, but even she was concerned. And maybe she should havebeen. But the first thing I made when I knew what I was doing was a replacement coffin for Grandma.”
“Holy crap. You dug her up?”
He sighed.
“Just listen, will you? I worked on the thing for months. She kept a postcard of Monet’s poplar trees near her bed at the hospice, so the wood was an easy choice. I sanded that poplar until it was smooth as sea glass. I finished it off with bronze handles, and an intricate woven pattern on top. Finally, I carved her name on the lid.”
“Joy,” I said.
“Joy,” he said, and smiled. “It was too late to give it to her obviously. So, I went to her house and I filled the casket with her stuff. Some of it, anyway. The old FM radio she used for listening to baseball games. Some photos of her as a girl, tan and smiling on a dock in Northern Minnesota. That sparkly green sequined sweater she wore. Then I dug a second grave in her backyard and I laid it to rest there. It’s like a time capsule now, I guess.”
“Whoa,” I said. “You buried it back there?”
“It took me all afternoon.”
“That’s actually pretty great,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “But it still didn’t seem like enough. People need to rethink all of this stuff. We need a new culturearound death. And why can’t I be the one to help start it? Somebody has to. Maybe this is what I’m supposed to do.”
He got up and walked over to the fridge. He pulled out a can of beer and cracked it open. Then he looked at me.
“Maybe it’s whatweare supposed to do.”
I returned to my food. I took a bite of chicken and chewed it slowly.
“We?” I said.
“Haven’t you been thinking about it? Since Florida?”
I stuffed more food in my mouth.
“I don’t know,” I lied. “Not really.”
He took a sip of beer.
“Well, I’ve thought it all out. I’ll pay you. We’ll work out the percentage. If you’re not going to go to school for a while, you need a job.”
My dad had never been a great disciplinarian, and his stern glance looked like an empty threat. He quickly switched tactics.
“Look. I want this business to work,” he said, “and I’ve realized I can’t do it by myself. I don’t have all the skills I need. I could use you, Tess. You showed me something in Ocala. You understand people. You know what they want. I think you might have a knack for this.”
I watched him carefully. A lock of graying hair hung overhis right eye. He didn’t brush it away. I wished I could trust him entirely, that I could feel nothing but good about all of this. But it was too easy to remember other promises he’d made. The way he had changed in the last few years. Just because he was acting more like his old self tonight, didn’t mean all was forgotten.
“What kind of partnership are we talking about?” I asked. “Do I actually get a say in things?”
“Sure,” he said. “That’s the point. I want you to weigh in.”
He fidgeted at the table. I stopped to think. It had been a while since I’d had any leverage in a situation.
“I have two conditions,” I said.
He narrowed his eyes.
“Okay...”
“First, any extra profits we make go back in my college account.”
My dad pursed his lips.
