Restless

1 - Restless Hills Funeral Home

As the receptionist for Restless Hills Funeral Home, Debra didn’t have much to do but stare out the bay window that looked over the memorial park. Headstones and statuary speckled the tailored lawn. Old oak trees blew in the wind from the approaching storm. Clouds gathered on the northern horizon creating an overcast sky. That afternoon's weather reminded Debra of her own darkness. It had a life of its own. When it crept into her, she pushed it aside and replaced it with memories of her son. 

There were times, when it stayed in the peripheries of her thoughts, as though it waited. Waited for what, she didn’t know. 

Earl, the embalmer and reconstruction artist, sipped his gourmet coffee and stared out the large bay window with her. 

"Windows up in your car, Deb?" he asked.

"Think so," she said. 

"Judging by those clouds in the north, we got us a big one coming."

She smiled, took a deep breath, and said, "Don’t you love the smell of an approaching storm?"

"Just got all the hail damage dinged out of my truck," he said. "Not looking forward to putting another deductible in the palms of some paint and body shop owner."

Debra watched Earl as he drank his coffee. He wore tight western jeans and boots with a dark blue shirt. He was thin at the waist and broad shouldered. She didn’t care so much that he had lost most of his hair. She’d always been fond of balding men; they reminded her of a favorite uncle. He wasn't actually an uncle, but a friend of the family. When he visited her mother and father, he always brought her new clothes or makeup. She'd only been ten, but he loved helping her play dress up.

"Earl, I was wondering if you were going to work late tonight?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Should. At least, I might take a look at the grounds after the storm, if it’s a big one. Water tables round here are a bit high for some of these plots."

"I’d like to help some night," she said. "I want to learn a little more about what you do. I took a cosmetology class after high school; it might be something I could do."

"Sure," he said. "We’ll start you with the easy ones though. Some can get pretty rough."

"Say," he added. "How things coming along at that new place? Living that close to work’s gotta be nice. Why don’t you just walk?"

"I’d have to walk across the cem--" She interrupted herself. "I mean, I’d have to walk across the memorial park. It’s not as close as you might think. Otherwise, I like it. My neighbor is a pain and I had to run off a family of raccoons from my garage, but the rent's amazing."

"Yeah," he said. "I wondered about that. Why would a single woman want to be in that spacious old house alone?"

"I’m not," she said. "At least, I won’t be for long. My son just turned eighteen. He’s going to come live with me; at least during the summer, when he’s not in college. I’ve been preparing a room for him. I painted it his favorite color, burnt umber, and I’ve hung posters of his favorite bands. I’ve even got an old Ford Mustang in the back for him to work on."

"Perfect," he said. "It’s good for a kid to learn to work on a car. What year is it?"

"It’s a nineteen fifty-four."

"I think you mean, sixty-four."

"No," she said. "It’s a fifty-four." 

"Deb," he said. "I don’t mean to seem argumentative, but the Mustang didn’t come out until nineteen sixty-four, and it was even called the sixty-four and a half because it was released so late in the year. There were no Mustangs in the fifties."

"This is a special one," she said. "They only made a few."

He looked at her for a few moments and said, "Okay, I understand. You just let me know if you ever need help with it. I got plenty of tools and mind a little grease under the fingernails when needed."

"Thanks," she said. "I’m sure my boy will be an expert. I’m sure he’ll know what he’s doing."

He tipped his head, like he was tipping a hat, and walked out of the reception area and back to his studio. She waited a moment, trying to determine how he had interpreted the conversation. She decided that he was impressed with her knowledge of cars, that he would think she was responsible because she would have a place in her home for her son as soon as he arrived, and that even though she wasn’t certain he found her attractive, she couldn’t help but assume he wanted to sleep with her. She hoped working late one evening would lead to something.