graveyard shift

One thing at a time, Catherine Addams told herself. Make sure of that cemetery plot. On this island it was as hard to land a burial site as it was to join the Garden Club. Harder. They were supposed to be reserved for the old families. But she had convinced Rose Carter to sell her a doublewide. The old woman certainly didn’t need it all those plots she’d inherited—no husband, no kids. She checked the Block Island phone book. So quaint, only seven digits to dial. People told her it used to be just four.

    Done. She picked up the phone again.

    “Reverend Paul?  Yes. This is Catherine Adams. I appreciated your call so much. Yes. We’re going to have it out here. I don’t think the church. As you know, my husband wasn’t much of a churchgoer.” Her husband had been a Jew, but nobody needed to know that—Addams sounded as Welsh as Hebrew. “But it would give me great comfort if you would do the graveside service. I want him to have a proper interment. No coffin. Cremation.” There was no doubt that he would agree. She had paid for the new church roof. “The funeral home said Wednesday. Holiday weekend.” She checked WeatherBug on her phone again. Supposed to be clear the whole coming week. “Thank you. Thank you. Very short. I’m sure you will know what’s most appropriate. I’ll leave it to you. Yes, three o’clock sounds fine.”

      She called the manager at the Surf to arrange caterers for the after party. She rang Merideth (“the old snoop,” Jerry called her) to talk, loudly, about floral arrangements. She called the editor of the Block Island Times. It was Friday and too late to get anything in the actual paper, but he could post the funeral time. She emailed him a photograph of Malcolm. Malcolm. She had hardly thought of him since the horrible discovery.

    She saved the worst for last. She called her “stepson,” Bill. He wasn’t answering his cell. Then she called Kate. She wasn’t answering hers, either. Or at least not once she saw who was calling. She left them both messages about the funeral, saying they could stay at the hotel.

    Why hadn’t Jerry called?