Chapter 1

19 4 1

de janello33

de janello33

Potato Salad.

At a funeral?

Clearly we should be planning for egg salad. Potato salad is for reunions.

What was she thinking?

She's grieving

She's losing it

Maybe it's not a time to judge

Well it's certainly not a time for potato salad.

You know what. Let's make a small potato salad, and we'll take it upon ourselves to make the egg salad sandwiches.

What other sandwiches did she request?

Ham. Open face.

Well, that makes sense at least.

Ok and dainty trays. Can we pass this sign up sheet around so we don't all bring the same things?

And punch. Is anyone opposed to rhubarb?

Teresa looked around the table. "There doesn't seem to be any opposition to rhubarb punch. Alright, good meeting ladies." Teresa closed her leather folder that held her legal pads for planning of this sort and pushed her chair back to stand up. She could plan a funeral in her sleep. She could plan a funeral in eternal sleep. Ha! She'd have to keep that little joke to herself.

The fact that Teresa was planning to retire from the church's social events planning committee was also something she had been keeping to herself. She was hesitant to verbalize her plans because she knew that their church had not been recruiting young families the way it used to through social pressure and guilt. The torch would be passed to another long serving member of the social committee, Lord help us, not Linda, but one of the other ones, and that it would be hard to find a warm body to fill the empty spot her absence would leave.

You could only plan so many funerals without starting to live vicariously through them, and it had really started to affect her social calendar. At least weddings had some advance warning. Funerals only gave you days to prepare, and then as the chair she needed to attend to ensure it all went smoothly. The programs, the ushers, the pall bearers, the hearse driver all needed Teresa more than they knew. A grieving family couldn't be counted on to make sure that the ice tea was prepared correctly.

The congregation was old and getting older. Funerals were all they seemed to do anymore. Even their community wide garage sale was a bust last summer. This whole minimalism thing meant that most of the donations they got for the bazaar ended up being driven to the second hand shop, and she heard that even they threw most of it out. Even her own daughter was dabbling in this minimalistic mumbo jumbo. When she had presented Rachel with a set of corn cob holders she had snagged last year, she noticed that they promptly disappeared. If she knew they wouldn't have been used, she could have found someone who would have appreciated them.

Rachel's was one of the last weddings that had taken place inside this church and that was almost ten years ago. She could count on one hand how many weddings had taken place since. Outdoor weddings... ridiculous, your high heels would sink into the grass. It was just an invitation to dress casually and wear flip flops. Destination weddings...ridiculous, who had the holidays or money to attend and full makeup in that heat! Rachel of course had wanted both, but she wasn't paying for it, so a hometown wedding in their church it was.

Two years later they had traveled to Mexico to attend her niece's wedding, but she was a lesbian so she understood why they didn't use the church. She had to admit it was beautiful, intimate, and stress free, but if you were planning a 'traditional' wedding then you should have it in the church you grew up in, right? These young couples today, Teresa shook her head. Getting married in backyards and barns and the pastor was bending over backwards for people who were picking and choosing what they liked about marriage traditions like a smorgasbord.

Teresa slid into the passenger seat of the car clutching her folder to her so she wouldn't lose her papers to the wind. Adjusting her top, she pulled the seat belt over and fastened it before her husband addressed her. "Good meeting?" He adjusted the air conditioning because he knew she was always cold. She was the only person he knew who could wear black slacks and a cardigan under the scorching July sun. "The usual," she replied, pausing for a moment, "but you know..." "Linda," he guessed and she gave him a knowing glance to let him know that he had hit the nail on the head.

"What's on the menu?" Bill asked as he put the car into drive. "She asked for potato salad," Teresa replied, shaking her head. "For a funeral?" He shoulder checked on the empty street and signaled to indicate he was pulling out of his parking spot, which were both unnecessary. "Right?" She was glad that her husband was also puzzled by the request. "Seems a bit festive for a funeral," he speculated, "Who's going to make it?" Bill hadn't decided if he was going to go to the funeral or not. It was usually dependent on the food.

"Where we headed?" Bill was talking into the windshield waiting for further instructions from his wife. Teresa checked her watch, "Home." If she timed it right, she'd have just enough time to make them lunch before the Blue Jays game started. The light turned yellow just as they approached and instead of speeding up to beat the light, Bill came to a stop before the light turned red. Irritated, Teresa turned to look at her husband and then exaggeratedly looked back at her watch. She wondered if this light was going to mess up her schedule. Bill tapped his fingers on the steering wheel while Teresa tapped her foot on the floor of the passenger seat. It was bad luck to miss the beginning of the game.

"Smells like rain," Bill said as the light turned green. Teresa turned her attention to a crystal blue sky with nary a cloud in the sky nodding, "It's a ways off yet." "Tonight," Bill said with the confidence of someone who had already heard the forecast. She wondered if it was raining in Toronto, silently worried that the game would be delayed. "Is the rain coming in from the east or the west?" She strained her eyes studying the sky trying to see the thousand plus miles away. "Well now I believe it's coming from the sky," Bill laughed at himself. Teresa ignored him.