couple. The Christmas trees that they had decorated. That joy seemed so distant now.
He thought of Josh. Of how proud he made him. With their marriage disintegrating, his most important goal in life was to see Josh launched into adulthood as a well-adjusted, healthy young man.
The last drops of scotch went down as he watched another Star Ferry cross the harbor, the sight deepening his sense of isolation. If only he could put his arms around Josh and hold him close and know that wasn’t Andy’s head …
He dumped the bottle in the trash with the other and climbed into bed knowing sleep wouldn’t come without an Ambien. Even then, maybe not. Didn’t matter because tomorrow he’d catnap on the long flight home.
Soon as he landed in Seattle, he’d find Andy.
9
DFH I NC ., S EATTLE , W ASHINGTON
P ERCHED ON A KITCHEN stool in his penthouse great room, Ditto savored his second cup of Starbucks Kenya roast when the phone chimed with the distinctive ring for his private line rather than the DFH after-hours line.
He set down the Seattle Times sports section and glanced at the glowing digits of the clock in the microwave. Damn early for a personal call. Then he remembered turning off the cell phone—the phone most of his friends called him on—and plugging it into the charger. The battery really needed to be replaced, but it pained him to think of it being dumped into a landfill. Good thing about RadioShack, they recycled batteries. Or so they said.
The phone rang again. Mostly likely either Gerhard again or the on-call person. Sometimes they called for advice.
This was a perfect example of how this job was killing him, what with the constant grind of always having to backstop employees. It had even become an issue with his girlfriend. He couldn’t get Cathy to understand there was no way to predict when Joe Blow might shuffle off to the great unknown and he’d be called to pick up the body. She thought he should delegate more responsibility to Gerhard so they could get away for a few days.
Gerhard was competent but didn’t have the flair for customer service Ditto had. Then again, the two state universities,UW and WSU med schools, were DFH’s only regional competition for body donation, so that wasn’t really a big issue. Made him laugh because neither institution accepted bodies outside their local area unless the family agreed to pay the transportation costs. Was that idiotic or what! If all he had to worry about was the discount cremation part of the business, it’d be okay for Gerhard to manage for a few days on his own. But the body parts business required constant diligence. For obvious reasons, he’d never explained any of these details to Cathy, so he couldn’t expect her to understand.
The front door opens and a woman—a real looker—stands in the doorway. “Oh, you’re here already.”
For a moment he’s struck dumb by her beauty. Then recovers with, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, but I’m just a friend. The family’s in the living room. This way.”
Gerhard follows her, pushing the collapsible stretcher covered with a purple blanket into the next room. The couch has been made into a bed, medications and tissues on the nearby coffee table. A woman is on the couch with the unmistakable pale of death. Three other people are in the room.
Minutes later, after the body has been loaded into the hearse, Ditto stands at the door with the woman. He hands her his card. “Here. If there’s any time in the future I may be of service, just call.”
She exchanges the card with a slip of paper. “Thank you, Mr. Ditto.”
On the way back to the hearse, he unfolds the note. The name Cathy and a phone number are printed in neat block letters.
He laughed at the memory of meeting Cathy while at work in the funeral home—which preempted any need for the awkward, eventual question, “What do you do for a living?” With other women, when that topic inevitably came up, his answer was an
He thought of Josh. Of how proud he made him. With their marriage disintegrating, his most important goal in life was to see Josh launched into adulthood as a well-adjusted, healthy young man.
The last drops of scotch went down as he watched another Star Ferry cross the harbor, the sight deepening his sense of isolation. If only he could put his arms around Josh and hold him close and know that wasn’t Andy’s head …
He dumped the bottle in the trash with the other and climbed into bed knowing sleep wouldn’t come without an Ambien. Even then, maybe not. Didn’t matter because tomorrow he’d catnap on the long flight home.
Soon as he landed in Seattle, he’d find Andy.
9
DFH I NC ., S EATTLE , W ASHINGTON
P ERCHED ON A KITCHEN stool in his penthouse great room, Ditto savored his second cup of Starbucks Kenya roast when the phone chimed with the distinctive ring for his private line rather than the DFH after-hours line.
He set down the Seattle Times sports section and glanced at the glowing digits of the clock in the microwave. Damn early for a personal call. Then he remembered turning off the cell phone—the phone most of his friends called him on—and plugging it into the charger. The battery really needed to be replaced, but it pained him to think of it being dumped into a landfill. Good thing about RadioShack, they recycled batteries. Or so they said.
The phone rang again. Mostly likely either Gerhard again or the on-call person. Sometimes they called for advice.
This was a perfect example of how this job was killing him, what with the constant grind of always having to backstop employees. It had even become an issue with his girlfriend. He couldn’t get Cathy to understand there was no way to predict when Joe Blow might shuffle off to the great unknown and he’d be called to pick up the body. She thought he should delegate more responsibility to Gerhard so they could get away for a few days.
Gerhard was competent but didn’t have the flair for customer service Ditto had. Then again, the two state universities,UW and WSU med schools, were DFH’s only regional competition for body donation, so that wasn’t really a big issue. Made him laugh because neither institution accepted bodies outside their local area unless the family agreed to pay the transportation costs. Was that idiotic or what! If all he had to worry about was the discount cremation part of the business, it’d be okay for Gerhard to manage for a few days on his own. But the body parts business required constant diligence. For obvious reasons, he’d never explained any of these details to Cathy, so he couldn’t expect her to understand.
The front door opens and a woman—a real looker—stands in the doorway. “Oh, you’re here already.”
For a moment he’s struck dumb by her beauty. Then recovers with, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, but I’m just a friend. The family’s in the living room. This way.”
Gerhard follows her, pushing the collapsible stretcher covered with a purple blanket into the next room. The couch has been made into a bed, medications and tissues on the nearby coffee table. A woman is on the couch with the unmistakable pale of death. Three other people are in the room.
Minutes later, after the body has been loaded into the hearse, Ditto stands at the door with the woman. He hands her his card. “Here. If there’s any time in the future I may be of service, just call.”
She exchanges the card with a slip of paper. “Thank you, Mr. Ditto.”
On the way back to the hearse, he unfolds the note. The name Cathy and a phone number are printed in neat block letters.
He laughed at the memory of meeting Cathy while at work in the funeral home—which preempted any need for the awkward, eventual question, “What do you do for a living?” With other women, when that topic inevitably came up, his answer was an
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