The Johannsen Funeral Home was the only funeral home in Shady Palms. While there were a good handful of places of worship scattered throughout the town, the Johannsen family held the monopoly on death. Housed in a sober, nondescript gray building, everything about the premises screamed “Death and loss!” But in a very dignified way, of course.

It had been a long time since I’d had to attend a wake, so the changes that had taken place inside were a pleasant surprise. Despite the age of the building, everything was well maintained and tastefully decorated in shades of black, gray, and white. Yet the effect was neither plain nor oppressive, instead exuding a sense of elegant melancholy. I needed to snag whoever did the decorating because they’d done a fabulous job. Though it was missing the requisite bits of flair to really liven up the place, no pun intended.

What was not so fabulous was the overwhelming scent of lilies scattered around Derek’s casket. Beautiful, but their sickly sweet scent always reminded me of death. I could never smell lilies without remembering my parents’ funeral, young as I was. The fragrance ensured I would never forget it.

Derek was laid out in the main viewing room, a blown-up headshot from his high school graduation mounted behind his casket. His mom, Mr. Long, and a woman I’d never seen before lined up next to him so that the procession had to greet each of them in turn before paying respects to Derek.

I wasn’t ready for this.

The Calendar Crew had already gone ahead to give their condolences and Tita Rosie and Lola Flor approached the family after leaving the food they’d prepared with the funeral director. The mystery woman shook their hands perfunctorily, but Mr. Long refused to extend his hand. Mrs. Long elbowed him and I heard her say, “We talked about this. No scenes.”

She intended it to be a whisper, but in the empty space her voice rang out as clearly as if she were announcing it to the room. Other than the Longs and my family, nobody else was there. It was still early, but I panicked at the thought that no one but us would show.

Looking at Mrs. Long, the premature lines etched on her face, the makeup she had caked on for the occasion, the handkerchief she wrung in her hands, the rigid way she held her body when her husband touched her, I knew I couldn’t face her. I just couldn’t.

I started to back away, but bumped into what felt like a brick wall. I glanced behind me and exclaimed, “Terrence!” much too loudly for this solemn space. Clapping my hand over my mouth, I glanced toward the front of the room. Sure enough, everyone was staring at us.

Luckily, Terrence Howell was well-known to both families and he smoothed things over by walking over to Mrs. Long and giving her a big hug. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Nancy. I know I haven’t come over in a while, but Derek and I used to be close. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

He glanced back and gestured for me to move forward. I walked up next to him and said, “My condolences as well, Mrs. Long. Please let me know if there’s anything my family and I can do to help.”

Mr. Long muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Go to jail,” but the look Mrs. Long threw him shut him up.

“Thank you so much, both of you.” She clasped Terrence’s hands. “It means a lot to see you here. You were such an important part of his life.”

I gathered my courage. “Mrs. Long, I hope you don’t think—”

“Nancy, I just remembered we need to talk to the funeral director.” Mr. Long literally elbowed me aside as he addressed his wife. He turned to the unknown woman standing next to him. “Cate, can you keep an eye on things till we’re back?” He jerked his head in a not-so-subtle manner toward me and my family.

Cate, whoever she was, rolled her eyes but agreed. I tried to telegraph a message to one of my godmothers to figure out who this lady was and if she’d be a good source of information since Mr. Long didn’t seem too eager to let me talk to his wife.

Ninang Mae, always the quickest on the draw when it came to ferreting out information, came over toward us and held out her hand. “Cate, I think I heard Mr. Long call you? I’m Mae. So sorry for your tragic loss.”

Cate fidgeted a bit as she gave Ninang Mae a dead-fish handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

Ninang Mae tipped her head. “I’m sorry, I thought I knew everyone in this town, but I can’t seem to place you. Have we met before?”

Cate shook her head. “I’m Ed’s sister. Our parents divorced when we were teens, so I’ve lived in Joliet most of my life. When I heard what happened, I wanted to be here for Nancy. She’s such a dear.”

“Oh that’s so kind of you. How strange though, you’re here for Nancy, not Ed?” Ninang Mae asked.

Cate looked uncomfortable again. “Nancy was my best friend when we were kids. She’s always been a little fragile, in need of a soft touch. Besides, Ed, well, let’s just say he wouldn’t appreciate me making a fuss. I’m sure he has his own way of coping.”

Seemed like a good time to introduce myself as well, so I held my hand out. “Hi, I’m Lila. That’s my Aunt Rosie and Grandma Flor.” I waved them over. “Cate is Mr. Long’s sister,” I said, making the introductions. “She’s here to keep Mrs. Long company.”

“Oh, that’s so kind of you, Cate. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Tita Rosie said, clasping Cate’s hand briefly.

Lola Flor nodded at her. “We’ll stop by later with some food. Nancy looks like she’s losing weight. It’s important for her to keep her strength up at a time like this.” She looked Cate up and down. “You, too. You look tired. Take care of yourself as well as others, ha? What good are you if you get sick?”

Cate raised her eyebrows. “Thanks, I guess. Are you—” The ring of a cell phone cut her off, and she frowned at the ID display. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” She answered the phone. “Ed? What do you . . . yeah, I was just talking to them. What?” She sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. Fine. I said fine!” She hung up, muttering under her breath.

“Sorry, it seems I’m needed,” she said to us. “It was very nice meeting you.”

Then she swept away before we could respond, leaving me, my aunt and grandmother, and the Calendar Crew alone with Derek’s body. Or at least I thought so. A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I realized Terrence was still there. He stood in front of Derek’s high school graduation photo, frowning down at it.

I walked over to him and leaned my head on his shoulder so we could both contemplate the picture together. Derek was two years ahead of me in school and a very different guy back then. Looking at his picture, it was hard to reconcile my high school sweetheart with the man he became. The man who ended up in a casket with few people to mourn him or care.

“How you holdin’ up, Lil’ Mac?” Terrence’s deep, reassuring voice rumbled through his chest, the vibrations against my cheek strange yet calming. His nickname for me, a shortening of my first and last name as well as a callback to a character in a retro video game he loved, brought a wave of nostalgia that was so sudden and intense I worried I’d drown in the memories and emotions it evoked in me.

“Not great,” I admitted. “You?”

“Same.”

I looked up at him to ask another question, but the grief etched across his features stopped me. I knew he and Derek were close once, but the depth of his sorrow surprised me.

Then I remembered Janet.

Janet, his fiancée, currently in a coma because she had information about Derek’s death. Did he know she was supposed to meet me the day she was attacked? Did he blame me?

As if sensing my thoughts, he looked down and said, “Can we talk? Maybe grab some food? We got a lot to catch up on.”

I smiled, a little sadly. What an understatement. “Sure. Just let me tell my aunt. Meet you at the usual spot?”

“See you in twenty.”

* * *

? ? ?

George and Nettie Bishop were a Shady Palms institution. Adeena and I would hang out at Big Bishop’s BBQ almost every day after school. The food was cheap and delicious, and their extensive side-dish menu meant Adeena didn’t have to starve while I consumed mounds of charred animal flesh. Derek and Terrence were usually with us as well, plus whoever Terrence happened to be dating at the time. Growing up, I didn’t really have many friends. Just extended family that I was forced to spend time with, but who never really got me. This little group was all I had. Until Derek changed.