The living room clock said 5:58 AM. Cynthia wondered if Greg was going be on time, or if he would even make it at all. They had worked at her mom’s house until nearly 11:00 the night before. They were both getting worn down from the lack of sleep over the past few nights. But she had still managed to get herself out of bed every morning to go for her run. This would be Greg’s first attempt.
There was a knock at the front door.
“Good morning. I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she said.
“Well, it wasn’t easy. But I told you I’d be here at 6:00, and here I am. Hey, aren’t you going to be chilly in those shorts? It’s 65 degrees out there.”
“Only for a couple of minutes. After that I’ll get warmed up. Actually, you’re going to roast in that.”
“But I thought you were supposed to wear a sweat shirt and sweat pants when you go running.”
“You are—if you want to maximize your sweating.”
“Oh, great. So maybe next time I’ll wear shorts.” Although he could never look that good in them, he thought. Wasn’t it kind of dangerous for her to be out running the streets early in the morning by herself, looking so cute and sexy? She had been doing it every day since moving to Coreyville a few years ago. But now, he would be along with her, to protect her. And he’d do his best to concentrate on the running—resisting the urge to grab her perfectly shaped butt.
“Ready to go?” said Cynthia.
“Yep. But wait—don’t we need a flashlight? It’s still dark.”
“Here you go.” She picked up two flashlights from the small table near the door. “We’ll get enough light from the street lights to see where we’re going. We’ll only need to turn on the flashlights when a car’s coming—just to make sure they see us.”
“Oh—one more thing,” said Greg. He turned her around and gave her a big kiss. “Okay. Now I’m ready to go.”
But as soon as he had said it, he began to have second thoughts. Maybe they should skip the running today and just lie around on the couch. But she had already opened the door, grabbed his hand, and started pulling him onto the porch.
They alternated jogging and walking, spending more time walking than Cynthia normally did.
By the time they got back to her porch at 7:00 AM, it was dawn, and Greg was exhausted. “It feels like I’m wearing concrete shoes.”
“Then you’d better not go for a swim.”
“Gee, I’m dying here, and my girlfriend is making jokes.”
“You’re not dying.”
“My legs are so wobbly, I can barely stand up.”
“Poor baby. You’ll feel better after you eat breakfast. Come on in the kitchen. I’ll give you a glass of orange juice. It’ll hold you until you get to Jane’s.”
While Greg was sipping his juice, she said, “You want to eat lunch with me today?”
“Sure. Where do you want to go?”
“Well, I’m afraid we’ll have to eat in my office. I’ll only have about 30 minutes to spare—at 12:30. Is that okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll bring box lunches from Jane’s.”
“If Jane ever went out of business, you’d starve, wouldn’t you?”
“I guess so.”
Once Cynthia’s mother moved in, she would cook for them. At least that was one thing he knew he’d like about Beverly living there.
“I’d better get going,” said Greg. “See you at 12:30.”
He gave her a goodbye, but-I-don’t-really-want-to-go kiss.
“I love you, Greg.”
It sounded so fresh and magical. And his knees were already weak from the running. How much weaker could they get before he crumbled to the floor, he wondered. “I love you too, Cynthia.”
The sparkle in her eyes made him want to say it over and over.
And Cynthia had begun to believe that the life of love and happiness she had always dreamed of was finally within reach.
*
“You want to ride with me?” said the pastor.
“Sure,” said Greg. He wondered if Dr. Huff had seen the clueless look in his eyes. It had taken a full two seconds for Greg to remember that there was a funeral at 10:00. “Just let me throw on a tie and jacket.”
He had learned to keep a couple of sport coats and ties in his office for just such a memory lapse. A suit would be more appropriate for a funeral, but the immediate family would not see him anyway. They should already be in their seats by the time he arrived. And he would be singing over the sound system from a hidden room.
Greg liked the hidden room concept. One time he was singing for the funeral of a fifty-something year-old man who, without warning, had dropped dead in his favorite recliner. The service was held at a small country church. The widow and daughters started crying in the middle of Greg’s song. So there he was, standing at the pulpit, right in front of them, as they cried their eyes out. He hoped he would never have to do that again.
The 83-year-old woman and her husband had been faithful church members. But the congregation had seen little of their three sons after they were grown and out on their own. They were good ole boys. Nice guys by most standards. But Dr. Huff would use their mother’s funeral to encourage the sons to seriously consider their spiritual condition. He had done the same at their father’s service two years earlier.
Greg was surprised to run into Henry Joe outside the funeral home. All three boys were known by their first and middle names. The other two were Harry Jeff and Harvey John. Henry Joe had followed in his dad’s footsteps, making a living repairing the old cars in the little town. He had taken over the shop when the old man finally retired. Henry Joe had replaced the fuel pump on Greg’s 1965 Bonneville just a few weeks earlier.
“Hey, Mr. Tenorly,” said Henry Joe, just before he took another drag on his cigarette.
Greg hated the smoking, but he appreciated being addressed formally. Henry Joe had apparently learned manners from his mama. “How are doing?”
“I’m okay.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.”
Now Greg needed to move on. He never knew quite what to say to a son or daughter who had just lost a parent. He felt so inadequate to handle that part of his job. He couldn’t even remember what people had said to comfort him when his mother had died. He had felt such guilt for not being there to protect her. If he hadn’t been off at college he could have gone to the store for her that night. Maybe he could have avoided the drunk driver’s pickup.
Greg went in the door and looked down the empty hallway. He quickly walked to the music room. It was a tiny, with just enough space for two people—if one of them was sitting on the organ bench.
“Hi, Greg.”
“Hey, Sally.” He didn’t even know her last name or anything about her, except that she was always there to play the organ.
“So, you’re doing Amazing Grace and Abide with Me, right?” She was looking at the printed program.
“Yes, that’s right.”
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me…
Greg had sung that hymn hundreds, maybe thousands of times.
Abide with me: fast falls the even tide; the darkness deepens; Lord with me abide…
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.
Greg was ready for death, in one sense. He knew he would go to Heaven to live with God and his mother and other family members and friends. But first, he wanted to live a long life on earth. A wonderful life with Cynthia. To have children and grandchildren. In that sense, he wasn’t ready to die at all. Funerals are so depressing, he thought.
*
“Wonder where Carnie’s going?” said Macy, standing at a window in Mallie Mae’s room.
“There’s no telling,” said Mallie Mae.
“I went down to check on Elmo late last night. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t bothering him.”
“Bothering him?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what she’s capable of. She might try to seduce him while Carsie’s gone.”
“Honey, Elmo has a lot of flaws, but being unfaithful isn’t one of them,” said Mallie Mae.
“I know.” Macy hesitated, but then blurted it out. “She’s been coming on to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“The other night she kissed me.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was embarrassed.”
“You think she’s gay? Or bisexual?”
“I don’t know. And then last night when I went down to the basement to spy on her, she opened her door and was standing there naked. She just stood there staring at me.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I ran away. That woman scares me.”
“Sound like she is gay.”
“I’m not sure if she’s gay or just some kind of wacko—especially after that. She just seems dangerous to me.”
“Well then, just stay away from her. She and her sister will be out of our lives soon.”
“I hope you’re right, Mallie Mae.”