Simple Man

- EIGHT -

Lorraine and Rowan made their way back up the first floor in silence but Rowan could feel Lorraine's closely guarded curiosity beginning to emanate off of her. Could he blame her? No. It had been fourteen years or more since she had last seen him. Back then he was just this skinny scruff of a kid from the other side of the tracks who had the audacity to follow the prettiest girl in town—Justine Browning.

"I hope that wasn't too distressing for you dear, being face to face with death can be hard on the living." Lorraine said as they returned to the foyer.

"I'm fine, thanks." Rowan replied.

   Lorraine gently shepherded a numb Rowan back into the living room. Rowan wanted to leave and head over to Ozzy's—if that place was still standing—and drink until he no longer had a care in the world. He knew that was rude and instead parked himself down on a royal blue armchair directly across from the couch where Lorraine gracefully took her seat.

   He wasn't sure he was mentally—certainly not emotionally—ready to answer one question let alone a hundred of them. He knew that sounded like an exaggeration but a decade was more than enough time to come up with exactly a hundred questions. He didn't want to lie to her but he also didn't want to tell her the truth either.

"I hate to press for an answer but you didn't say specifically if you preferred cremation or burial?"

Rowan went to say cremation but his voice said, "Burial"

"Oh, okay..." Lorraine replied, looking a little shocked despite having placed the suit order herself, she grabbed the notepad on the coffee table and jotted that down. "Now Bill had no life insurance policy so any and all burial arrangements will have to be out of pocket. Is this okay?"

Rowan nodded, "Cheapest casket he can be fit into, doesn't matter. No flowers. As soon as possible."

"Viewing?" Lorraine

"Brief. I doubt he had friends, on the off chance he did I doubt he kept them. Just in case, let's keep it at an hour—max." Rowan stated.

"Alright. Will anyone be speaking?" Lorraine asked

"No. Not during the viewing anyways. But if Pastor Tripp can find sometime this week to speak over him before he gets put six feet under I'd be most grateful—if not it's no big deal." 

Lorraine dutifully wrote that down as well but paused, "I can have Pastor Tripp come, but Harvey Tripp retired to Florida so I'm afraid we'll have to settle with his son, Thomas."

"Tommy Tripp? A pastor? I must have something in my ears. Did I hear that correctly?"

"Juniper doesn't change much and when it does it doesn't change quickly but it has been fourteen years since you were here last."

"Fair. It's just... I always remembered Tommy being the womanizing sort." Rowan stated.

Lorraine was by no means a gossip but even she couldn't help clarifying, "Juniper doesn't change much because the people here don't change much. Unfortunate then that he should be my son-in-law... I was quite hoping that would be you one day but alas that wasn't what God planned."

"Wait. Justine married Tommy? Why?" Rowan asked, surprisingly upset by this news. It wasn't out of any sense of jealousy but concern.

"That's why I asked if you had been by to see her. I had hoped not so you weren't blindsided. Justine took your departure very hard. It wasn't fair you hurt her so but most of us in town knew you had your reasons. She, however, wasn't as understanding about it. Her hurt eventually turned into anger and her anger got her into some trouble. She got caught up partying when she told me she would be studying. Like a dummy I fell for it, but she had never done such things before so I had no reason not to believe her. You see after you left Tommy was right there to pick up the pieces and he knocked her up not long after. Tommy's daddy wouldn't hear of bringing a child into this world out of wedlock so now he's my son-in-law. She's grown up a lot since then, I wish I could say the same for her husband. I have a beautiful granddaughter who I can spoil absolutely rotten so it's not so bad." Lorraine smiled reassuringly but still looked sad.

"Have you told her I might be coming?" Rowan asked, not sure how to process this information. He didn't want to pass judgement on Justine but Tommy Tripp of all the boys in Juniper who would have given their right foot to be with her she went and got pregnant by the least deserving of them.

Rowan shook his head.

"Back to the topic at hand," Lorraine redirected, "I hope I'm correct in assuming that you want the cheapest plot and head stone option available?"

"Correct."

"Excellent. Then I will take care of the rest. I will ring Pastor Tripp to set up a date and time within the week. Sound good?"

"Yep."

Lorraine put the notepad down and smiled, "Would you like some tea?"

He was tired of feeling guilty but annoyingly, that all too familiar feeling presented itself at the thought of possibly offending Lorraine by declining. He wanted so badly to say no in order to make his exit swift. But guilt insisted on overruling every sense of self-preservation he possessed to give Lorraine the response she desired, "I'd love some, thank you." He replied, congenially.

Lorraine smiled as she offered him a glass from the tray, "Cookie?" she asked as she was literally handing him one on a small plate. "Oh. Thanks." Rowan said, awkwardly.

"Of course," Lorraine smiled, "I heard you did some modeling in Los Angeles? Are you still involved in that?"

"I did a gig here and there but no not anymore, I'm too old now." Rowan replied, before sipping on some tea. For moment Rowan forgot he was in the South and that southerners enjoyed tea sweet enough to put a diabetic in a coma. He drank his fair share of sweet tea growing up but a lot of people in Los Angeles possessed some strange sugar allergy—or at least their waistlines did. Lorraine's sweet tea was nostalgia in a glass but that much sugar in one mouthful was hard to swallow.

"Too old!? You're only... what? Thirty?" Lorraine laughed.

"Thirty-five."

"Thirty-five isn't old dear."

"It is in the fashion industry. I'm practically an antique."

"You haven't changed all that much, some five o'clock shadow, a little bit of gray hair and you've filled out a little. Still Rowan. Still as handsome and polite as ever."

"You've always been too kind, I'm afraid I'll disappoint you after all this time."

"Disappoint me? Never." Lorraine assured him, "Now, I'm sure you're tired. Will you be staying in town?"

"For the time being, yes." Rowan answered.

"The Magnolia Inn?"

"Yes."

"Of course. Mr. Berman will make your stay very comfortable." Lorraine said as she got up from the couch to head into the foyer, "He is very attentive to his guests. He really turned it around after Arnold sold the business to him about two years ago. I think you'll enjoy yourself as much as one can expect to here."

Rowan couldn't be more grateful that Lorraine was the one to lead him out instead of having to come up with some excuse to extricate himself from this conversation while his step-father lay dead just twelve feet below them. He loved Lorraine but he would love a whiskey sour more right about now. "Now I know you need to go check-in. Say hi to Craig for me if you would and don't be a stranger." Lorraine demanded as she pulled Rowan into another tight hug. After what felt like forever she let go and opened the front door, "Take care of yourself Rowan, I'll take care of the rest. See you soon."

"Later, Lorraine." Rowan replied as he walked down the sidewalk waving. He looked up, the clouds were dark and nasty overhead. It was gonna come down hard anytime now.

She closed the door as he sat back down on his bike. What he didn't tell Lorraine was he didn't know how he was going to make it safely to his hotel in time for check-in but he didn't really care. He was headed to Ozzy's. Given his history and the bitter memories associated with it he usually abstained from drinking but tonight he was going to make an exception. He was going to get absolutely shit-faced.