Fortunately, Meri told me how stupid I was being, and I did not actually call an ambulance because my baby was crying. I gave her a bottle, changed her diaper, and then rocked her to sleep.
In fact, she still snoozed away when I put her in the car to drive to the cemetery. It must have been an exhausting event for her as well, and I nearly backed out of going to the funeral. It would have meant that my mother needed to go in my place, though, and I knew she didn’t want to leave Lilith. And for whatever reason, Lilith hadn’t wanted to go to Mercy’s service.
I thought that was a little strange. It was a gray day, and the clouds were fat with rain. You would have thought that Lilith would jump at the chance to spend a gloomy, wet morning at the cemetery.
“I think she’s still tired,” Mom said. “She wants us to believe she’s back to one hundred percent so we’ll leave her alone, but Lilith definitely needs more rest.”
“I understand,” I said. And I did. If not for the relative quiet of the past couple of days, I wouldn’t have felt much like attending the funeral either.
That morning, I’d had a huge breakfast and three cups of coffee to prepare. I was shocked when my stomach was a little bloated and I had some trouble zipping up my dress. I just patted my stomach with a laugh and tugged harder. Would I get all fat and sassy if I didn’t have magic to keep me thin?
I was not going to diet. Nope. Not happening. Thorn would just have to love my big butt.
“Why are you laughing?” Meri asked and I realized I’d been chuckling at my own thoughts.
At that point, we were driving to the graveyard, and I was lost in thought about food. That happened to me a lot.
“It’s nothing,” I said. “I’m just thinking about getting fat.”
“Why is that funny?” Meri asked. He licked his little paw and ran it over his ear.
“It just is,” I said.
“We’ll see if you can keep a husband then,” he snarked.
“You really think Thorn is that shallow?” I asked.
“Whatever,” Meri said.
After that, he hopped into the back and shared the car seat with Laney. He seemed to like her company better than mine most of the time which was hilarious considering he hadn’t wanted a baby around.
I got to the cemetery early because I wanted to watch people before and after the service. That and I was itching to get out of the house.
Given that my family and Coven were sort of wrapped up in the mystery surrounding Mercy’s and Samara’s deaths, no one else from my family would be there. It meant I probably wouldn’t have anyone to talk to, but people watching was fine by me.
I only wished I could have gone to Samara’s funeral, but she didn’t have one. Her body had been cremated, and the funeral home had shipped her ashes out of state. I knew that because when I’d called about attending her funeral, the funeral director had told me.
A couple of cars were already parked on the side of the road that ran through the cemetery. A handful of people sat in the metal chairs the funeral home had put out for the service. The staff from the funeral home was busy arranging flowers and getting the casket in place.
Strong gusts kept blowing through and knocking the flowers over until they just brought them all back inside the blue tent over the casket. There would only be room inside the tent for a few people if the sky opened up and a real downpour started.
I didn’t want to get caught out there, so I stayed in the car and contemplated just watching the whole thing from the safety and comfort of my vehicle. But, after a few more people arrived, someone saw me. Betty Harker started to wave at me furiously, and she didn’t stop until I got out of the car. I had Laney’s stroller in the trunk of the car because I didn’t intend to carry her around in the sling for the entire service. I wouldn’t have minded at all, but I figured the canopy over the stroller would keep her dry if it did begin to rain.
Plus, if I had her in the sling against my chest, any conversations I had might keep her awake. In the stroller, she could sleep uninterrupted since the funeral would be a quiet affair.
It wasn’t a packed service, but a few more people showed up. Some of them must have been family from out of town because I didn’t recognize them.
The funeral was a short one. The funeral director gave a standard eulogy, and none of Mercy’s family stepped up to speak. The casket was open, and once the director finished his speech, he invited people up to say goodbye before they closed it.
I stayed back as a short line of people walked up and said their goodbyes. One or two of them kissed her cheek or touched her hand. An older woman that I guessed was Mercy’s mother or a close aunt put flowers in her hands.
The last person to step up to the casket was a man. I wouldn’t have taken much notice of him, but he kept looking around. Instead of focusing on Mercy, he was scanning.
Hairs on the back of my neck stood up. While I could have been wrong, I would have sworn he was making sure no one was watching him.
Just before he stepped away, I watched him slide his hand into the casket. He appeared to reach in between the side of the coffin and Mercy’s body as if he were grabbing something, but when
