Page 38 of The Last One to Let You Down

“Only a little.” Aaron pouted. “Poor doggy was hungry, come on. I was talking to the Winslow family, and nobody wants to take the dog. Animal Control took her to the shelter—”

“Wait, her?”

“Apparently Mister Doodles is technically a Mrs. Doodles. Anyway. Nobody will take her because of her new snacking habits, and this is a kill shelter.”

Tom could feel his heartstrings being played like a fiddle. He’d always had a love for animals, and everyone knew it. He had a cup on his desk for the sole purpose of catching spiders and taking them outside before they got squished.

He didn’t own any pets because of the crazy hours he worked, but all he could think about now was the poor little dog being put down, and it made his insides clench. No one would give a dog with that sort of history a good home.

Shit.

“Why don’t you take the dog if it’s so great?”

“I’m allergic to pet dander. Plus, I think I’m going to ask Shelby to move in with me, and she hates dogs.”

Shelby was Aaron’s girlfriend, and from what Tom understood about her, she hated everything.

“I’ll think about it.” Tom wagged his finger. “This does not mean I’m getting the dog.”

“Well, if you do, you can totally change her name to something cool. Like Skeletor.”

“I’m not naming the dog ‘Skeletor.’ I’m not naming it anything because I’m not getting the dog.”

It meant nothing that Tom looked up the number for the shelter and called to see if the dog was available.

Nothing at all.

The rest of the day passed without incident. The Winslow family was very pleased with how she looked and opted to keep the casket open for the services later that weekend. It was Gerald who told him because Junior left immediately after the viewing, complaining of stomach problems.

At some point, Cypress had come by and delivered the casket spray for Mr. Hewitt. Tom was sorry he had missed seeing him, but he swore he could smell a hint of Cypress’s cologne as he carried the arrangement to the chapel to place on Mr. Hewitt’s casket.

When the Powell family was done, Tom rolled Mr. Powell back into the cooler and placed him in a cardboard box up on the rack to wait until he was scheduled for cremation. It was getting close to five o’clock, and he got Mr. Delaney, the Jewish man, out of the cooler.

He placed him on the stainless-steel embalming table but left him wrapped up in the sheet. The Chevra Kaddish would want to remove it and undress him themselves. He found the pine casket out in the hallway and rolled it into the prep room. The members of the Chevra Kaddish would bathe Mr. Delaney, shroud him, and place him in the casket when they were finished so he would be ready for the burial in the morning.

Tom then moved Mr. Dresser to the front in the small viewing room. The family would have their first viewing there, but the visitation and services would take place in the larger viewing room and the chapel. At the moment, both of those rooms were occupied by other dead friends, and Mr. Dresser would have to wait his turn.

Five o’clock came, and Tom was happy to leave on time. He felt accomplished having checked off everything on the list he’d made for himself that morning. Telling off Junior and earning high praise from Mr. Crosby about how pleased the Winslow family was with his work were definitely highlights. Although, if he was being honest, the unexpected tryst at the flower shop was absolutely the best part. He bid farewell to his co-workers and hopped in his car, finding he had a text message from Cypress.

Good day?

Tom smiled, texting back:

Very good. Sorry I missed you earlier.

He didn’t get a text back right away, so he started to drive home. He tried not to think about the fate of poor Mister Doodles, Mrs. Dresser’s screams, or what possible revenge Junior could be cooking up.

Failing on all three accounts, he made a left instead of a right, heading to the animal shelter.

No, wait, pet store first. Then the animal shelter.

Though he couldn’t do anything about the screams haunting the inside of his head or possibly predict what Junior would or would not do next, he could save Mister Doodles.

When he drove back home with a very fluffy Pomeranian happily nestled in his lap, he decided he’d made the right decision.

He let Mister Doodles off her leash to explore the house while he brought in the dog food and other pet supplies he’d bought at the store. He could hear the dog scampering around and sniffing everything, and he liked that the house didn’t feel so empty now.

As he was pouring food in the new doggy bowl, he heard his phone ding, alerting him to a text message from Cypress.