Poisoned Petals

“Steve told you, didn’t he?” Not that she needed any of them to confirm it.

“It’s the only way I know what’s going on in your life,” Paul answered. “Steve tells me everything.”

Peggy glanced back at Steve. “Everything?”

Paul shuddered. “Okay. Not everything! I don’t even want to go there! He told me enough so that I knew you needed moral support at Darmus’s funeral. You should have told me!”

Ranson walked beside his grandson as they started out the door. “Did I ever tell you about that time your mother got a penny stuck in her ear and didn’t say anything about it for a month?”

Paul laughed. “I don’t think I’ve heard that Mom story.”

“It’s true.” His grandmother backed up the tale, making it gospel. “She had a terrible infection in her ear canal. She kept trying to dig the penny out by herself.”

“It’s the God’s honest truth,” his grandfather added, “may lightning strike me dead if it isn’t.”

The entire group glanced at the cloudless blue sky above them.

“Okay. That’s it.” Peggy stopped the reminiscing. “I’m not going with any of you in a minute! If this is moral support, I hope lightning strikes me dead!”

“I think we can all squeeze into the sheep van, right?” Steve took out his keys.

“We all went in it to the nightclub last night,” Aunt Mayfield reminded him sourly. “But it was a tight fit. And that nightclub was loud! And I think my ginger ale was watered down.”

“It might have had some whiskey in it.” Ranson got in and sat with her and Cousin Melvin in the backseat.

“’Shine?” Aunt Mayfield’s puffy face turned red. “You know I don’t touch the stuff!”

“Vile tasting!” Cousin Melvin declared. “But good for what ails you. I take a drop or two, just for medicinal purposes, from time to time.”

“Just drive,” Peggy told Steve. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get out of this van!”

More people showed up for Darmus’s funeral than Peggy would have imagined. The big lot at Mangum’s was full. So was the shopping center parking lot across the street. Women dressed in various dark shades were walking across the street in high heels, accompanied by men in brown and black suits.

“There’s the mayor.” Paul pointed to the man getting out of the Mercedes in front of the funeral home. “And the chancellor from UNCC.”

“Nice crowd.” Steve glanced at Peggy. “Sure you want to go through with this? You could always take it up with them later.”

“Once they bury Albert Jackson in Darmus’s place, it will take a court order to exhume him.” She clicked her pocketbook closed as he parked the van. “I think I’m up for this.”

She didn’t mention what went on between her and Holles behind the shop. She’d convinced herself it was mostly her overwrought imagination. Holles was the least threatening man she’d ever met. Just because he leaned on the truck door didn’t mean he was threatening her.

Holles and the funeral director met them at the back door to the chapel. Holles smiled in a grim, thoughtful way while the director explained to Peggy where she’d be sitting and when he’d ask her to speak. Holles nodded to Steve and Paul when the director asked them to go in the front door and find a seat while he took her in through the back of the chapel.

When she realized she was going to be alone with Holles again, even for a brief time, Peggy got a little nervous. Then she realized the funeral director, the UNCC chancellor, and the head of the Council of Churches would all be sitting with them beside Darmus’s elaborate coffin. Not that they were necessary. She’d included another letter opener and a can of mace in her pocketbook. Let him try something now!

The enormity of what she had to do almost overwhelmed her when she saw the choir from Darmus’s church on the other side of the huge chapel. The room was filled to capacity. She could see Steve and her family sitting near the front door. The mayor was seated beside most of the city council. The governor was near one of the local state representatives, their heads close together.

The scent of thousands of flowers assailed her nose. Chrysanthemums, roses, white lilies, orchids. There was a net of white roses covering the top of the coffin, and huge pots of corn plants with the Feed America banner across them at either end.

Peggy looked at the men beside her who would also be speaking at the memorial service. Then she saw Naomi sitting in the front row. The girl gave a hesitant wave, then smiled.

It bolstered Peggy’s confidence, seeing that timid smile. She searched the crowd for Al’s familiar face but couldn’t find him anywhere. He was scheduled to be a pallbearer. He had to be in the group assembled there.

All three local TV stations had cameramen stationed near the front entrance. Peggy felt a fine sheen of perspiration forming on her forehead at the edge of her hat. She wished she could take it off and fan herself with it, but the occasion was too formal, too solemn. The handkerchief she’d used at the funeral home for her crocodile tears was still in her pocketbook. She took it out and dabbed at her forehead.

“Are you all right?” Holles whispered near her ear.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand. “It will all be over soon.”

As he spoke, the music came up, and the choir began to sing. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me, I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.”

Peggy sat calmly, her hands folded in her lap, as the minister praised Darmus as a man of God and a man of the people. He told of his good works and his life of selflessness, his devotion to God and man. People bowed their heads and prayed as he prayed for Darmus’s immortal soul.