Read Online The Deepest Blue by Kim Williams Justesen - Free Book Online Page A

reason, so I leave it on.
    â€œReady when you are,” I tell Maggie.
    She is washing out the mugs from last night. She shakes her hands, looks for something to dry them on, then gives up and wipes them on her shorts. “All set,” she says, and I follow her out to her car. It is speckled with dust spots from the rain of the last few days. “I called Chuck and he will meet us there.” We climb into the car and drive in silence.
    It takes about thirty minutes to get to the mortuary.The radio plays country music, which I hate, but I don’t say anything. As we pull into the parking lot, Chuck Marshall gets out of his yellow VW. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants and waits for us to park.
    â€œMaggie, I am so, so, sorry,” Chuck says, hugging Maggie and patting her back. “Mike, you too,” he says, and he claps me on the shoulder and then hugs me in a sideways grip. “I’m here for you both. Anything you need.”
    â€œThanks.” Maggie fights back the tears that are brimming in her eyes.
    â€œYeah,” I say, because I can’t think of anything else to say.
    â€œI’ve got copies of the paperwork,” Chuck says, pulling a folded stack of papers from his back pocket. “We’ll deal with the immediate things today. Then we can set a time to meet later on to talk about all the other issues.”
    â€œLike what?” I ask.
    Chuck’s lips press tight against his teeth, and then he lets out a puff of air. “Like what to do with the house, the boat, your dad’s assets.” He pats my shoulder again. “But that can all be dealt with later.”
    The early morning sun is heating the pavement, and a bead of sweat is gliding down my spine. “I won’t go live with Julia. She’s not my mom. I want to live with Maggie.”
    Chuck rocks back on his heels, looks at Maggie, bounces on the balls of his feet, then looks at me. “Okay, well, we don’t have to deal with that today. Let’s just take care of today, and then we can work the rest of this out later.”
    I sigh and blow at the hair that has wilted onto my face from under the hat. “Can we just get this over then?”
    â€œMike, this is going to be hard. If you’re not ready to go in here yet, that’s okay.” Maggie looks at me with warm eyes, but her knuckles are white where she grips her pocketbook.
    I don’t know what I’m going to see. I’ve never had anyone close to me die, so I don’t have any idea what to expect. I’ve never seen a real dead body before. Trying to imagine my dad this way—lifeless—I don’t know if I can handle this, even with Maggie there. I don’t know if I want this to be the last picture of my dad I have in my head. But I want to see him, and that feels more important than anything right now. I stare at the worn, leather sandals on my feet. After a moment, I tense the muscles in my solar plexus, relax them, and take a deep breath. “I’m ready,” I say.
    The mortuary is a low building that is dimly lit inside. The carpet is thick, and the whole place smells musty, like a library or a historical building you visit on school field trips. We are met inside the door by a balding man in a pressed, navy blue suit. He talks in soft tones. His name badge reads M R . S MOOT .
    â€œWe are so sorry for your loss. Of course, our purpose is to make this difficult time of transition just a bit easier for you all.” He leads us to a small room with a large table made of dark wood. It is surrounded by lots of heavy, wooden chairs. There is a big, silver pitcher on the table and a stack of plastic cups. The pitcher sweats beads of cool water, leaving a puddle on the plastic tray it’s on.
    The word “easier” sounds like a joke to me. None of this is going to be easy.
    Chuck says that Dad wanted to be cremated. That’s news to me, but then why