Set against the backdrop of the 2020 Covid-19 outbreak, a young woman, Gravely Eaton, is stuck working at the family funeral home with a father she hates. The world is dying around her, but there seems no escape from her boring life with no friend...
By the time I returned to the funeral home that day, I was exhausted. Thankfully, everything had come off at the cemetery without a hitch. Uncle Mitch had another funeral on the other side of town later that day and, after that, he'd be in Buffalo for a church retreat or something for a week. Good. Not that I didn't value my time with my wonderful uncle. My biggest worry was Mitch popping by for an unannounced visit. Chances were, he'd find his brother more animated than expected. But I couldn't let those "what if" details get to me. One day at a time became my mantra.
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When I got upstairs, Father's apartment door was wide open, and he sat quietly in his living room reading the books I'd loaned him. He didn't ask how the funeral went, or who showed up, and I didn't volunteer any information. We didn't discuss my most private thought - the chance my mother had seen father's obituary and show up at the crypt. If she was there, she was disguised as a tree or a groundskeeper, watching from a distance. Funny, that I was thinking about the possibility of reuniting with my mother at all. I mean she ran out on me...I mean us when I was only twelve. Pretty bitchy of her, really.
It had been ten years, but I couldn't help but wonder if mom would reconsider hooking up with dad again if she only knew how much he'd changed. I mean, him being dead was a complication, but lots women are willing to make compromises. Right? There was no denying dad was a new man, easy going, so sweet and so thoughtful. In just a week, my hatred for him dripped away and, as strange as it sounds, I looked forward to spending time with him. He made me feel comfortable and wanted for the first time in my life.
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We spent the next few days sitting at father's dining table playing board games, chatting, and watching TV. I ordered pizza and Chinese food a few times, none of which he ate, but he enjoyed talking to me as I pigged out. It was a Friday night when I was savoring a piece of cheesecake and coffee at his dining table. Father had a big grin on his face and happily slid an envelope across the table to me. It was mail from Service Ontario, the provincial government arm that takes care of things like birth certificates and driver's license renewals.
I opened the envelope and there was a government form inside. It was titled "Application to Change an Adult's Name". For the sum of $137 dollars, I could return the completed form to the Ontario Ministry of Government and Consumer Services and the source of so much of my lifelong embarrassment, the name Gravely, would be stricken from my ID forever. Father had actually called up the government help-line and asked them to mail us the form. He'd written a cheque on his personal account and attached it to the form. All I had to do was sign it.
