Southside of Heaven

Chapter Seven - Funeral Home

I dropped Allison off at Ryan's house and made my way back into town. The only problem was that I didn't know where the Funeral Home was. Stopping at a small store on the town square, I got out of the car and walked in. There was a preacher sitting on a stool next to the store owner, telling him about yesterday's church service. I walked up to the store owner.

"Hi, I was wondering if you guys could help me. Could you give me directions to the funeral home?" The owner stopped smiling and looked at me seriously.

"Are you suicidal ma'am? Jerry, come help this woman!" He chuckled at his own joke while the preacher rolled his eyes.

"Show some more respect. If she's asking for the funeral home, then obviously someone she loves may have died." The preacher turned to me. "Did someone die on you, honey?"

"Yeah. My father, Tom Walker. Did you guys know him?" The reverend's face flashed in anger and he walked out of the building without a word. "What's his problem?" I asked the owner. He gave me a sympathetic look.

"Not everyone was a fan of your daddy's."

"Right. Thanks." Frustrated, I walked out of his store. It seems as though my dad was just as bad even after Alex and I left. I angrily threw my purse into the back of the car and sat down in the driver's seat.

"Hey! Jane!" I looked out my window and rolled it down when I saw Max running towards me. "What are you up to?" She asked.

"Can you help me get to the funeral home?"

--

"What do you think of this one?" The funeral director asked, pointing to a small black urn. I observed it for a moment as Max looked at me.

"I mean, I like how slim I look in black. Can we get it in a different color?" The man sighed and shook his head.

"I'm afraid not. We can carve designs on it though if you'd like? Maybe your father's name?" Max scoffed.

"What do you think she has a whole collection of urns at her house?" Max asked sarcastically. I nudged her side with my elbow and gave the man an apologetic look. He was just doing his job.

"Actually, I'll just go with the simple black, please." He nodded and wrote it down on a piece of paper.

The funeral director then motioned for us to follow him into his office and offered us a seat in front of his desk. He rambled on about what we can do for decorations for the memorial and how the service will go. I stopped paying attention to him.

Wow, this is it. My dad is really gone. I mean, here I am sitting at a funeral home and making arrangements for HIS funeral. I know he was an alcoholic asshole but he was still my father and I loved him. Gosh, the last thing I ever said to him was so cruel. I told him to get the fuck out of my life and now he has. I felt the tears threatening to spill out, but I held them back with all of my strength.