James glanced toward Ruby.
Ruby looked equally surprised.
Naomi continued.
“He told me blue was for after church.”
Vivian became very still.
James removed the envelope.
On the front, in Nathaniel’s handwriting:
FOR MY CHILDREN, AFTER MY FUNERAL SERVICE AND BEFORE ANYONE DECIDES WHO BELONGS WHERE.
Walter looked at Vivian.
Ruby covered her mouth.
James sighed.
“Well.”
Even Reverend Porter seemed startled by the specificity.
Vivian stared at the handwriting.
Her father’s capital B leaned backward.
Always had.
“This is theatrical.”
James nodded.
“Extremely.”
“My father hated scenes.”
“Your father created several.”
A few relatives had gathered near enough to hear.
James looked around.
“This should not happen in a parking lot.”
Vivian laughed bitterly.
“Finally.”
He looked at her.
“But Naomi is riding in the first family car.”
Vivian stiffened.
“There are no seats.”
James turned toward Walter.
Walter immediately said:
“I’ll ride in the second car.”
Vivian stared at her husband.
“What?”
“It’s a seat.”
Lillian smiled through tears.
Naomi looked toward Walter.
“Thank you, Uncle Walter.”
Walter’s face broke.
“Of course.”
Vivian looked around.
Every person seemed to have made a decision without her.
She hated that feeling.
She also recognized something ugly underneath it.
For years she had been the person making decisions for everybody else.
The cemetery procession left nine minutes late.
Naomi and Lillian sat together in the first limousine.
Their yellow dresses touched at the skirts.
Naomi held a small white handkerchief Ruby had given her.
Vivian sat across from them.
She looked out the window almost the entire drive.
Nobody spoke.
Nathaniel Carter was buried beneath a pecan tree beside his wife, Evelyn, who had died nine years earlier.
The minister read Psalm 23.
The choir sang softly.
Naomi cried when the casket lowered.
Vivian did too.
There were no more arguments at the grave.
That would come later.
Nathaniel had arranged for the immediate family to return to Carter & Sons Funeral Home after burial rather than the house.
That irritated Vivian.
She wanted people fed.
She wanted practical tasks.
Instead James Holloway directed Nathaniel’s children, spouses, grandchildren, Ruby, Reverend Porter, and the Citizens Savings representative into the arrangement room.
A place normally used to help grieving families choose caskets.
Now Nathaniel’s own family sat beneath framed photographs of flower sprays and burial vaults.
Vivian looked toward James.
“This is grotesque.”
James adjusted his glasses.
“Your father selected the room.”
“Of course he did.”
Lillian and Naomi sat together near the back.
Ruby tried to take Naomi to the lounge.
James stopped her.
“Nathaniel asked that she remain.”
Vivian looked up sharply.
“She is eight.”
“Yes.”
“What estate conversation requires an eight-year-old?”
“One affecting her.”
Ruby frowned.
“She doesn't need account balances.”
“I agree.”
James looked toward Naomi.
“Some parts will be explained later.”