Page 62 of The Last One to Let You Down

“This little room actually used to be a bathroom, but grandma swapped everything around when they closed off the old staircase.”

“It’s beautiful,” Tom said. “I love all the molding. And oh, the little windows above the windows.”

“Fun useless fact, those are called transoms.” Cypress chuckled. “I’ve redecorated most of the upstairs myself. Took down some pretty hideous wallpaper, painted all the earthy greens and browns that you see. Floor is original to the house except in the kitchen, where grandma put down tile.”

“Shoes off?”

“Please.”

“No problem.” Tom quickly heeled out of them, nudging them over in front of a little shoe cubby next to Cypress’s.

“I’ll take your bag to my room.” Cypress smiled warmly. “I’ve got wine in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

“Is it okay to let Mister Doodles off her leash?” Tom asked. “I mean, none of these plants can hurt her, right?”

“No, she’s fine. Promise.”

“All right, releasing the beast,” Tom warned, unhooking her leash and watching her zoom right to the kitchen. He followed her, taking a quick look around as he went. In addition to the plants, there were lots of art and photographs to explore later.

The kitchen had definitely been updated since it was moved here so many decades ago, boasting black marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, white cabinetry, and a high bar in front of the sink, underneath which were tucked four barstools. There was a pot simmering on the stove, and it smelled amazing.

Upon closer inspection, Tom realized not everything had been replaced in the kitchen judging by the mint green tile backsplash above the stovetop. It gave the kitchen a fun sense of warmth despite all the modern appliances and besides, it matched all the plants.

As promised, there was a bottle of wine and two glasses waiting on the bar.

Tom poured while Mister Doodles sniffed around his feet, looking back over his shoulder to see Cypress coming down the hall. He offered him a glass, saying, “Thank you for cooking. I have no idea what you’re making, but it smells amazing.”

“Spinach stuffed chicken breast and toasted herb rice,” Cypress replied. “Rice is going on the stove, chicken is in the oven, and everything should be ready in about ten minutes.”

“I can’t wait,” Tom said, sipping his wine. He was already feeling fuzzy, leaning into Cypress’s hand at his hip. “You know, there actually used to be a kitchen upstairs at the funeral home. A bathroom with a shower, too.”

“Oh, yeah? What happened?”

“It’s all been converted into offices or storage space now. They built a shelf right over the damn tub because Mr. Ayers was too cheap to pay someone to gut it out.”

“People used to live there, right?”

“Yup. They’re called funeralhomesbecause they really used to be people’s homes. They worked right out of the place they lived.”

“Nobody lives there now?”

“No,” Tom replied. “Not for a long time. Some other funeral homes might still do it, maybe? Kinda dying out, no pun intended. I’ve heard of a few places who let their apprentices or whoever stay rent free in exchange for working there, but the actual family that owns it? Not usually.”

“That’s what we did here,” Cypress said proudly. “My grandmother started out selling her flowers from her garden out front, then the backyard, and boom, it just took off. Next thing you know, she’s taken over the entire downstairs for the business.”

“And here you are, carrying on the family legacy.” Tom smiled. “That’s really nice you’ve kept it all going.” He paused to stretch, tilting his head back and forth to pop his neck. “Mm, sorry.”

“Long day?” Cypress asked, reaching over to gently rub Tom’s shoulder.

“Long and boring.” Tom reconsidered. “Other than the whole burglary mess. That’s a fuckin’ nightmare.” He curiously traced the rim of his glass. “Gonna tell me how you know Fox now?”

“There are… parties.” Cypress seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “People who enjoy a certain kind of lifestyle get together every once in a while. Some like to show off, some like to watch, and some honestly just come out to chat and hang out.”

“Like a sex party?” Tom asked dumbly.

“Something like that,” Cypress replied. “It’s all very casual, no pressure to participate, everyone is very friendly. Anyone acts up, they’re out.”

“And you know Fox from these parties?” Tom didn’t know if he was excited or jealous, but he could feel his face getting hot.