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Here we go again, boys and girls...let me know what you think.
Jillian slowly dried herself as she stood in the luxurious bathroom and took the thick terrycloth robe from the back of the door and wrapped herself in its warmth. She wound a towel around her hair and stepped out into the fresh clean air of the room and sunk into the large overstuffed chair that sat next to the bed. Her lack of sleep beginning to make an appearance, her eyes grew heavy and as she closed her eyes, she noticed the time, 5:30 A.M.
Her sleep was peaceful. She woke at just a little before nine, rejuvenated slightly, knowing that the next few hours would be difficult. Funeral arrangements are never easy. She would depend on Bob to help her, and hopefully her father will have made some of his wishes known, if nothing else in casual conversation. Right now, she needed to get dressed and ready. She has not discussed with Bob what time he would pick her up. As she rose from the chair to begin the process, the phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Ms. Barton?”
“This is she.”
“There is a Mr. Milton on the line, he would like to speak with you. Shall I put him through?”
“Yes, please.”
“Jillian?” Came the voice from the receiver.
“Hi, Bob, I was just thinking about you.”
“Did you get a little rest? I know you have had a long night.”
“I napped for a few hours, yes. I feel a little better. I was just getting ready to get dressed. What time are you coming by?”
“Umm, I was thinking that perhaps you would like to grab a bit of breakfast before we head over to Meiler-Masters. Would that be all right?”
“That would be great! I am starved. I never got dinner last night in all the confusion.”
“Splendid. I will meet you in the lobby of the hotel in, say, 30 minutes. Is that enough time for you to get dressed?”
“That will be fine, see you in half an hour. Thank you very much.”
She hung up the phone and started looking for something to wear. She picked a gray business suit that she hadn’t worn since her last meeting with the Physics Department’s Student Council. The lined jacket and skirt, coupled with the crisp white blouse always looked very good on her. Professional but still accentuating the fact that she was a young woman with a very nice physique.
She took a few minutes to tossle her hair and run a brush through it a couple of times. She kept it relatively short so that valuable time was not spent drying, curling and otherwise primping with her hair. It was a fashionably messy hairstyle that fit her lifestyle perfectly. Fortunately it always looked good on her.
She took a look in the mirror as she prepared to leave the room and took a second to smooth the skirt over her legs one last time. Slipping on a pair of black pumps with 3-inch heels, she was ready to go. She exited the room and headed down the hallway to the staircase. As she looked over the railing on the first landing, she saw Bob sitting in the lobby, looking at the morning paper. He looked like he had gotten plenty of rest and was ready to take care of business. Jillian was glad that was the case.
As she came down the last few steps, Bob noticed her out of the corner of his eye and turned to face her. She smiled a weak smile and he smiled back. His eyes showing that he recognized the pain that she was feeling. To a lesser extent he was feeling the same pain. He had lost someone close to him as well. He was honored to be able to help her and to assure that his friend’s wishes were made known.
The two made small talk as Bob led her into the dining room. The hostess seated them immediately and there was already coffee poured and on the table when they sat down. They talked about Harry, about the town, about Nesbitt, her career, his practice, and a few other topics. The food was incredible. Jillian never thought that she would say that about something as ordinary as hotcakes, but they were the most amazing hotcakes she had ever had. No wonder everyone covets a meal here at the Aberly Manor.
They finished their last cup of coffee and made their way to the car. Jillian didn’t notice earlier this morning, but Bob drove a Benz. It was nothing flashy or noticeable, basic black with tan leather interior. As they pulled into the parking lot at Meiler-Masters Funeral Home, the car actually looked like it was right at home among the black hearses and the other limousines that were used by the business to transport family members during funerals.
Frank Meiler met them at the door and introduced himself to Jillian, and renewed acquaintances with Bob. His manner was calming and professional, as one would expect given his chosen field. Jillian appreciated his support and his help. Many of the relatively minor details had already been put into place awaiting the final approval of Jillian, upon her arrival. The choices of casket and apparel had already been made and the plot had been purchased years ago. The only things left to decide were actually times and places for the ceremony.
Mr. Meiler took Jillian into the room where her father’s body rested to allow her to say her personal good-byes and to allow her to take in the atmosphere of the cavernous room where she now stood. Bob and Meiler walked with her to the front of the room where the open casket stood, at the ready to support her physically, if needed. She surprised both of them by walking straight to the side of her father’s casket and pausing just a second, reaching in and stroking the back of his right hand. She made a simple gesture of hooking her little finger around his and simply said, “Goodbye Daddy, I love you.”
She stood for a few long moments looking at his body and turned to Bob and Mr. Meiler and calmly asked, with tears in her eyes, “What do we need to do, now?”
Bob explained to her that the choices that had been made to this point were choices that he had made, based on what he knew about Harry and his likes and dislikes. The oak casket was chosen over tropical hardwoods because he knew how Harry felt about rainforest destruction and the choice of domestic hardwood seemed appropriate, as did the fact that Harry should be buried in his tweed jacket that he wore every day of his life. His hat sat at the side of the body, rumpled as it always was from being stuck in the pocket of his jacket when he entered a building. Jillian agreed with those decisions and hugged Bob in appreciation. Bob kissed her forehead in support and handed her a tissue to dry her eyes.
Meiler and Bob guided Jillian to the back of the room to sit down and work out the details of the services that would be held. Jillian basically listened to Meiler lay out the tentative schedule of events, visiting hours, afternoon and evening; funeral services and interment; transportation for Jillian and as cold and calculating as it seemed at the time, the payment of the final charges for the services rendered by Meiler-Masters to make it all happen. Jillian agreed to all the arrangements as they were, including the pastor that would perform the funeral, that same one that baptized her when she was little, and Bob pulled out his checkbook.
“What are you doing?” Jillian asked, a little confused.
“We will talk about it, later, Jill. This is an account that your Dad created so that I could take care of his affairs should anything happen. Don’t worry, it’s all right and all taken care of.” He reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Harry never wanted you to have to worry about anything, and you won’t.”
“But, what….”, Jillian started. Bob cut her off, “Of course the account will be transferred to your name as soon as we get to the bank in the next couple of days to do the paperwork. That is nothing to worry about now. We have a lot to discuss before that happens.”
“I really appreciate all your help, Bob. I am so glad that Daddy had a good friend to take care of everything.”
Jillian hugged him again and he could tell by the way she gripped him that she was truly happy that her father was not alone here.
“Do you want to take a ride over to the house, or would you rather go back to the hotel and rest?”
“I think I would like to rest for a bit. We can go to the house tomorrow, I am not sure that I am ready for that, just yet. I think I need some sleep first.”
Bob drove her over to the hotel and walked her to the lobby. He watched as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She looked tired, she walked tired, and as she reached the second floor, she turned to wave goodbye. He waved and as she entered her room, he entered the bar and sat down and ordered a Scotch and water.
He sat at the bar, thinking about what was to come. He held the glass in his hand and swirled the ice cubes around and thought to himself, “how am I ever going to get her to understand?
(To be continued...)
Jillian slowly dried herself as she stood in the luxurious bathroom and took the thick terrycloth robe from the back of the door and wrapped herself in its warmth. She wound a towel around her hair and stepped out into the fresh clean air of the room and sunk into the large overstuffed chair that sat next to the bed. Her lack of sleep beginning to make an appearance, her eyes grew heavy and as she closed her eyes, she noticed the time, 5:30 A.M.
Her sleep was peaceful. She woke at just a little before nine, rejuvenated slightly, knowing that the next few hours would be difficult. Funeral arrangements are never easy. She would depend on Bob to help her, and hopefully her father will have made some of his wishes known, if nothing else in casual conversation. Right now, she needed to get dressed and ready. She has not discussed with Bob what time he would pick her up. As she rose from the chair to begin the process, the phone rang.
“Hello.”
“Ms. Barton?”
“This is she.”
“There is a Mr. Milton on the line, he would like to speak with you. Shall I put him through?”
“Yes, please.”
“Jillian?” Came the voice from the receiver.
“Hi, Bob, I was just thinking about you.”
“Did you get a little rest? I know you have had a long night.”
“I napped for a few hours, yes. I feel a little better. I was just getting ready to get dressed. What time are you coming by?”
“Umm, I was thinking that perhaps you would like to grab a bit of breakfast before we head over to Meiler-Masters. Would that be all right?”
“That would be great! I am starved. I never got dinner last night in all the confusion.”
“Splendid. I will meet you in the lobby of the hotel in, say, 30 minutes. Is that enough time for you to get dressed?”
“That will be fine, see you in half an hour. Thank you very much.”
She hung up the phone and started looking for something to wear. She picked a gray business suit that she hadn’t worn since her last meeting with the Physics Department’s Student Council. The lined jacket and skirt, coupled with the crisp white blouse always looked very good on her. Professional but still accentuating the fact that she was a young woman with a very nice physique.
She took a few minutes to tossle her hair and run a brush through it a couple of times. She kept it relatively short so that valuable time was not spent drying, curling and otherwise primping with her hair. It was a fashionably messy hairstyle that fit her lifestyle perfectly. Fortunately it always looked good on her.
She took a look in the mirror as she prepared to leave the room and took a second to smooth the skirt over her legs one last time. Slipping on a pair of black pumps with 3-inch heels, she was ready to go. She exited the room and headed down the hallway to the staircase. As she looked over the railing on the first landing, she saw Bob sitting in the lobby, looking at the morning paper. He looked like he had gotten plenty of rest and was ready to take care of business. Jillian was glad that was the case.
As she came down the last few steps, Bob noticed her out of the corner of his eye and turned to face her. She smiled a weak smile and he smiled back. His eyes showing that he recognized the pain that she was feeling. To a lesser extent he was feeling the same pain. He had lost someone close to him as well. He was honored to be able to help her and to assure that his friend’s wishes were made known.
The two made small talk as Bob led her into the dining room. The hostess seated them immediately and there was already coffee poured and on the table when they sat down. They talked about Harry, about the town, about Nesbitt, her career, his practice, and a few other topics. The food was incredible. Jillian never thought that she would say that about something as ordinary as hotcakes, but they were the most amazing hotcakes she had ever had. No wonder everyone covets a meal here at the Aberly Manor.
They finished their last cup of coffee and made their way to the car. Jillian didn’t notice earlier this morning, but Bob drove a Benz. It was nothing flashy or noticeable, basic black with tan leather interior. As they pulled into the parking lot at Meiler-Masters Funeral Home, the car actually looked like it was right at home among the black hearses and the other limousines that were used by the business to transport family members during funerals.
Frank Meiler met them at the door and introduced himself to Jillian, and renewed acquaintances with Bob. His manner was calming and professional, as one would expect given his chosen field. Jillian appreciated his support and his help. Many of the relatively minor details had already been put into place awaiting the final approval of Jillian, upon her arrival. The choices of casket and apparel had already been made and the plot had been purchased years ago. The only things left to decide were actually times and places for the ceremony.
Mr. Meiler took Jillian into the room where her father’s body rested to allow her to say her personal good-byes and to allow her to take in the atmosphere of the cavernous room where she now stood. Bob and Meiler walked with her to the front of the room where the open casket stood, at the ready to support her physically, if needed. She surprised both of them by walking straight to the side of her father’s casket and pausing just a second, reaching in and stroking the back of his right hand. She made a simple gesture of hooking her little finger around his and simply said, “Goodbye Daddy, I love you.”
She stood for a few long moments looking at his body and turned to Bob and Mr. Meiler and calmly asked, with tears in her eyes, “What do we need to do, now?”
Bob explained to her that the choices that had been made to this point were choices that he had made, based on what he knew about Harry and his likes and dislikes. The oak casket was chosen over tropical hardwoods because he knew how Harry felt about rainforest destruction and the choice of domestic hardwood seemed appropriate, as did the fact that Harry should be buried in his tweed jacket that he wore every day of his life. His hat sat at the side of the body, rumpled as it always was from being stuck in the pocket of his jacket when he entered a building. Jillian agreed with those decisions and hugged Bob in appreciation. Bob kissed her forehead in support and handed her a tissue to dry her eyes.
Meiler and Bob guided Jillian to the back of the room to sit down and work out the details of the services that would be held. Jillian basically listened to Meiler lay out the tentative schedule of events, visiting hours, afternoon and evening; funeral services and interment; transportation for Jillian and as cold and calculating as it seemed at the time, the payment of the final charges for the services rendered by Meiler-Masters to make it all happen. Jillian agreed to all the arrangements as they were, including the pastor that would perform the funeral, that same one that baptized her when she was little, and Bob pulled out his checkbook.
“What are you doing?” Jillian asked, a little confused.
“We will talk about it, later, Jill. This is an account that your Dad created so that I could take care of his affairs should anything happen. Don’t worry, it’s all right and all taken care of.” He reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Harry never wanted you to have to worry about anything, and you won’t.”
“But, what….”, Jillian started. Bob cut her off, “Of course the account will be transferred to your name as soon as we get to the bank in the next couple of days to do the paperwork. That is nothing to worry about now. We have a lot to discuss before that happens.”
“I really appreciate all your help, Bob. I am so glad that Daddy had a good friend to take care of everything.”
Jillian hugged him again and he could tell by the way she gripped him that she was truly happy that her father was not alone here.
“Do you want to take a ride over to the house, or would you rather go back to the hotel and rest?”
“I think I would like to rest for a bit. We can go to the house tomorrow, I am not sure that I am ready for that, just yet. I think I need some sleep first.”
Bob drove her over to the hotel and walked her to the lobby. He watched as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She looked tired, she walked tired, and as she reached the second floor, she turned to wave goodbye. He waved and as she entered her room, he entered the bar and sat down and ordered a Scotch and water.
He sat at the bar, thinking about what was to come. He held the glass in his hand and swirled the ice cubes around and thought to himself, “how am I ever going to get her to understand?
(To be continued...)