Page 26 of The Last One to Let You Down

“Yeah. We’ll have her in the main viewing room, and Mr. Powell can hang out in the small one.”

“Well, crap, that’s where I was gonna put Mr. Dresser.”

“We don’t really need to move him until the Chevra Kaddish come in tonight, right?”

“I guess not.” Tom sighed. “Okay, well, I still gotta casket Mrs. Winslow here, Miss Edie is coming in to do her hair, I need to prep Mr. Powell, and uh…”

Confront Cypress while smelling amazing, get the money back, have a light snack, then pay Junior and make it I’m absolutely done working for him.

Still on track, good.

“I’ll help you casket her,” Aaron offered.

“Thanks, I would really appreciate—”

“But I’m not helping you with Mr. Poopoo Powell. I saw enough of him this morning.”

“Totally fair.”

Together, they gloved up and gently placed Mrs. Winslow in her casket. Tom put a few finishing touches on her makeup, freshened up her lipstick, and made sure every seam of her pantsuit was immaculate. No one would ever be able to tell the jacket was cut, and he was pretty pleased about that.

Even though Aaron had said he wouldn’t assist with Mr. Powell, he stayed in the prep room to chat after Tom had retrieved his body from the walk-in cooler.

“Any idea what the other families want to do?” Tom asked, moving Mr. Powell up onto the porcelain embalming table. Because of the mess, he was sealed inside a body bag, but Tom could still smell the poop waiting for him within.

“The Huns are undecided. They’re pretty upset since it was such an unexpected death,” Aaron replied, leaning against the counter. “Poor ol’ grandma apparently dropped dead in her kitchen getting ready for dinner. The Lowery family is doing cremation. Gerald actually waited on them last year when the Dad died.”

“Gotcha.” Tom got suited up in his embalming gear and began to remove Mr. Powell from the body bag by carefully tucking and rolling the plastic until he could pull it free.

He took his time, being mindful of all the fecal matter, and shoved the balled-up bag into the biohazard trash. Mr. Powell was still dressed, but his clothing was totally soiled. Tom noted that Bosco or Scott must have tried to pull his pants back up, and he was missing a slipper.

“Where’s the other shoe?”

“Back in his bathroom in a pile of poo.”

“Gotcha.” Tom started to get Mr. Powell undressed. “You feeling any better?”

“I might start snorting coffee, but heh, I’ll make it.” Aaron shrugged. “Bosco is lucky I hadn’t been drinking, or this poor dude may have stayed stuck in the bathroom.”

“Yeah.” Tom packed the dirty clothes away in a plastic bag, hoping the family wouldn’t want them back. “Wait, why didn’t they try to, I don’t know, remove the pins from the hinges?”

“Family didn’t want them to mess up the door.” Aaron rolled his eyes. “Guy is a widow, only has two sons, and they were more worried about the damn door than their own father being dead in a pile of his own crap.”

“They sound charming.” Tom made a face and turned on the water hose so he could start bathing Mr. Powell and wash away the mess.

“Oh, they were great. They were already talking about how much they could get for selling the house.”

“Death really has a way of bringing out the best in people,” Tom muttered. “Your kids sound like dickheads, Mr. P.”

“You need help getting him on a table?” Aaron asked, yawning loudly.

“No, I got him.” Tom glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Dresser family is gonna be here in thirty minutes, right?”

“Shit. Yeah.” Aaron rubbed his face. “They had started a preneed, just never funded it. Shouldn’t take long to sort it all out. I’ll bring the clothes back if they have them.”

“And the casket?”

“Yeah, they didn’t get that far. I think that’s the only part they didn’t do. I mean and pay for it.”