Page 13

"Yes, of course. What does it involve?"

"Willow. I am not lying to you when I tell you it was handed to me sealed and I never opened it, nor did your father give me any further information or instructions about it."

"I see." I said. It made my heart pound. although I had no idea why it should.

"Once again, I am very sorry. I always told him I would go before he did. You are far too young to have lost both your parents, and he was far too young as well."

"Yes," I said. "I wasn't aware that he had any heart trouble at all."

"The shoemaker without shoes, caring more for other people than he did for himself, a truly great man. I'll be by later."

I thanked him again and hung up.

Aunt Agnes appeared in the office doorway, standing just at the threshold, precisely the way my adoptive mother would have.

The funeral is arranged for the day after tomorrow, Willow. I expect you will have many callers. so I have hired a service to provide maids and take care of the food we will need. It would be far beyond Miles's abilities to do anything significant. When I phoned the funeral parlor, I learned your father had left explicit instructions for nearly everything. You don't have to pick out a casket, do any of that. He was very thoughtful that way. Even as a young boy, he was the most organized person in our family. My mother never had to criticize him for the way he kept his things, unlike most boys his age.

She paused as Miles brought in my tea and biscuits on a tray.

"Why are you having that in here?" she asked when he set it down on the table in front of the leather sofa.

"Thank you. Miles," I said instead of responding to her immediately.

He left the office. I stirred the cup and, without looking at her. said. "I'd like to be alone for a while. Aunt Agnes."

She blew some air out through her tight lips and left the doorway.

I glanced at my father's chair as if he were still there. I could see him give me that wink. It brought a smile to my face and then a flow of tears,

Bad news travels with the wind. It's as if everyone who hears it feels an obligation to pass it along, or maybe a need to get rid of it before it affects them and their lives as well. I like to compare it to a hot potato. You move it to another's hand before it burns your own.

The phone began riming incessantly. Aunt Agnes took it on herself to answer all the calls. I didn't mind that and for a while was actually grateful she was there to sponge up the flow of sympathy that was threatening to become a tidal wave. Daddy not only had many, many professional friends in all fields of medicine, but there were so many people at the clinic who were thunderstruck.

I remembered how full of mourners the house had become after my adoptive mother's accident. From the way the phone was ringing off the hook, it threatened to be even fuller. Aunt Agnes was scurrying every which way, shouting orders at Miles, insisting we get in a maid service immediately to clean up a house she considered quite neglected.

"I don't know what your father was thinking when he dismissed all of his servants except for Miles shortly after your mother's death. I suppose with you off to college and her gone, he thought he didn't have the same requirements. As if the women in this house made the most dirt and dust and mess of it," she muttered. -Did you see the layers of dust in the living room? I don't imagine either your father or that Miles ever set foot in it after your mother's death, and I can't tell you what's going on in the guest bedrooms, Willow."

"I don't think the people coming to pay their respects are going to inspect the furniture. Aunt Agnes."

"Why, of course they will," she snapped back. "People are always snooping in everyone else's business. Don't worry about it I'll handle it," she declared. "Where is that Margaret Selby? I have things for her to do,' she added, and went rushing off to find my cousin, who was most likely chatting away with her girlfriends back in Charleston, complaining about being trapped in the house of death.

I finally felt up to calling Allan and went to my bedroom to do so. I got his answering machine and left the sad message. Then I tried to get some rest. for I knew Aunt Agnes, for all her blustering about, was correct: people would start coming to our home as soon as they could, and I would have an obligation to Daddy's memory to greet them properly.

A little more than an hour and a half later, my phone woke ine. I had my own number. so Aunt Agnes couldn't pick up this call first. It was Allan.

"Hey," he said. "Sorry to hear about your father. I guess he was a lot worse than you were first told."

"I wasn't told anything really, Allan."

"Um," he said. "That's too bad. He was a relatively young man, right?"

"Just about sixty."

"Right, right. So when is the funeral?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"Right, right" he said. He sounded so distracted to me. "Well, you know I would be there if I could. Willow. but I have that constitutional law exam. and Heller is a tyrant. You'd have to be dead yourself to get excused from the test, and he would insist you take it the first minute after you were resurrected in e