good to me—to us.” Her voice wobbled.
“Just doing my job,” Nurse Abbott said. “Reverend, if you’ll stay with Blossom, I have to get back to my patients.”
She marched briskly out of the lounge, leaving Helen and Blossom in the gloomy room with the television. A screaming red BREAKING NEWS banner interrupted the ten o’clock local newscast. An aerial view of a massive traffic jam on I-95 appeared on the screen. An overturned tractor-trailer sprawled across the highway. Flames were devouring the cab as firefighters sprayed it.
“There it is,” Blossom said. “That’s the accident that kept me away from Arthur.”
She reached for the clicker on the coffee table and turned up the sound. The announcer said, “The driver of the truck escaped injury. But the highway remains blocked from Sunrise to Commercial Boulevard. The Broward County Sheriff’s Office urges drivers to seek another route until the highway is cleared. We’ll bring you more live updates on News Channel …”
Blossom turned down the TV and said, “If only there hadn’t been that accident. I was stuck for over an hour, frantic to get back to the hospital. I tried to get around the cars by driving in the breakdown lane, but the police wouldn’t let me. They forced me back in line.” Her voice seemed to fade away.
“You need to keep eating,” Helen reminded her. “Nurse’s orders.”
“Right,” Blossom said, absently. She crunched on a graham cracker, then said, “Finally, the traffic moved enough so I could get off at an exit, but then I had to drive through downtown and that took more time.”
She finished the graham cracker and struggled to open the orange juice container with shaking fingers. Helen gently took the juice from her, peeled back the foil top and handed it to her. Blossom sipped daintily.
“You did the right thing,” Helen said. “Arthur wouldn’t have wanted you to get in an accident.” She was enjoying passing out platitudes. They seemed to work when Nurse Abbott said them.
“You think so?” Blossom said, sniffling.
“Absolutely,” Helen said.
“You’ve been so good to me,” Blossom said. “Would you conduct Arthur’s funeral? I know he’d want that.”
“I’d be honored,” Helen said as she felt another stab of guilt. Arthur didn’t want Helen. He’d never met her.
“I’ll have to find out when the hospital will release Arthur’s—” Blossom teared up, then made an effort to steady her voice. “Will release Arthur.”
“Do you know where he will be buried?” Helen asked.
“Yes. My husband was so thoughtful,” Blossom said. “Arthur told me he bought a funeral plan when his first wife died. I can’t remember her name. I’m so upset.”
“Honeysuckle,” Helen said.
“That’s right,” Blossom said. “He wanted to be buried next toHoneysuckle. He asked me if I’d mind. Wasn’t that sweet? I told him that was fine. She had him longer than I did and she is the mother of his child. Did you conduct Honeysuckle’s funeral service?”
“That was before I knew Arthur,” Helen said, truthfully.
“He bought the plan at the Dignity Forever Funeral Home on Federal Highway. The one with the white columns.”
Helen thought all Fort Lauderdale funeral homes had white columns, but she nodded.
“Then you’ll do it?” Blossom said. “Please?”
“On one condition,” Helen said. “Violet must be allowed to attend her father’s funeral.”
“But—” Blossom started to object.
“I will not be a party to a family feud,” Helen said. “I know you and Violet have had your differences, but you must set them aside for Arthur’s sake. Violet can be difficult. I won’t deny that. But I think she can help you.”
“Help me how?” Was there a slightly surly sound in Blossom’s voice—or did grief give it an edge? Helen couldn’t tell.
“Arthur Zerling was a successful man,” Helen said. “He lived in Fort Lauderdale all his life. Do you know how to contact
“Just doing my job,” Nurse Abbott said. “Reverend, if you’ll stay with Blossom, I have to get back to my patients.”
She marched briskly out of the lounge, leaving Helen and Blossom in the gloomy room with the television. A screaming red BREAKING NEWS banner interrupted the ten o’clock local newscast. An aerial view of a massive traffic jam on I-95 appeared on the screen. An overturned tractor-trailer sprawled across the highway. Flames were devouring the cab as firefighters sprayed it.
“There it is,” Blossom said. “That’s the accident that kept me away from Arthur.”
She reached for the clicker on the coffee table and turned up the sound. The announcer said, “The driver of the truck escaped injury. But the highway remains blocked from Sunrise to Commercial Boulevard. The Broward County Sheriff’s Office urges drivers to seek another route until the highway is cleared. We’ll bring you more live updates on News Channel …”
Blossom turned down the TV and said, “If only there hadn’t been that accident. I was stuck for over an hour, frantic to get back to the hospital. I tried to get around the cars by driving in the breakdown lane, but the police wouldn’t let me. They forced me back in line.” Her voice seemed to fade away.
“You need to keep eating,” Helen reminded her. “Nurse’s orders.”
“Right,” Blossom said, absently. She crunched on a graham cracker, then said, “Finally, the traffic moved enough so I could get off at an exit, but then I had to drive through downtown and that took more time.”
She finished the graham cracker and struggled to open the orange juice container with shaking fingers. Helen gently took the juice from her, peeled back the foil top and handed it to her. Blossom sipped daintily.
“You did the right thing,” Helen said. “Arthur wouldn’t have wanted you to get in an accident.” She was enjoying passing out platitudes. They seemed to work when Nurse Abbott said them.
“You think so?” Blossom said, sniffling.
“Absolutely,” Helen said.
“You’ve been so good to me,” Blossom said. “Would you conduct Arthur’s funeral? I know he’d want that.”
“I’d be honored,” Helen said as she felt another stab of guilt. Arthur didn’t want Helen. He’d never met her.
“I’ll have to find out when the hospital will release Arthur’s—” Blossom teared up, then made an effort to steady her voice. “Will release Arthur.”
“Do you know where he will be buried?” Helen asked.
“Yes. My husband was so thoughtful,” Blossom said. “Arthur told me he bought a funeral plan when his first wife died. I can’t remember her name. I’m so upset.”
“Honeysuckle,” Helen said.
“That’s right,” Blossom said. “He wanted to be buried next toHoneysuckle. He asked me if I’d mind. Wasn’t that sweet? I told him that was fine. She had him longer than I did and she is the mother of his child. Did you conduct Honeysuckle’s funeral service?”
“That was before I knew Arthur,” Helen said, truthfully.
“He bought the plan at the Dignity Forever Funeral Home on Federal Highway. The one with the white columns.”
Helen thought all Fort Lauderdale funeral homes had white columns, but she nodded.
“Then you’ll do it?” Blossom said. “Please?”
“On one condition,” Helen said. “Violet must be allowed to attend her father’s funeral.”
“But—” Blossom started to object.
“I will not be a party to a family feud,” Helen said. “I know you and Violet have had your differences, but you must set them aside for Arthur’s sake. Violet can be difficult. I won’t deny that. But I think she can help you.”
“Help me how?” Was there a slightly surly sound in Blossom’s voice—or did grief give it an edge? Helen couldn’t tell.
“Arthur Zerling was a successful man,” Helen said. “He lived in Fort Lauderdale all his life. Do you know how to contact
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