It Happens (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 6)

Which most people didn’t want to wait for seeing as they were trying to get the funeral over with. It wasn’t good to make dead people wait to be put to rest.

At least not in my honest opinion.

“Wonderful,” he sniffed. “My fax number is…”

Five minutes later, faxes sent, I turned to stare at Turner.

“You did remarkably well,” I teased.

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, her hand hitting the computer monitor to reveal our newest client.

It was a woman that’d been in a car wreck. Her face was awful, and there was no doubt in my mind that she’d be a tough case.

“This the one where the fiancé wants to have an open casket and the parents don’t?” I questioned.

“One and the same,” she confirmed. “This is also the one in the news yesterday because her fiancé’s brother was the one who caused the accident. The parents have custody of the girl’s kid, and the fiancé’s trying to get visitation rights even though it’s not his kid.”

I groaned. “That sounds like a mess, and I’m sure it’s going to get ugly here. That’s always fun.”

It wasn’t. Not at all. Drama followed death everywhere.

In the time that I’d owned the funeral home, I’d had more than my fair share of problems arising from the fact that families couldn’t agree even to disagree.

I wanted drama like I wanted a hole in my head, but unfortunately, I didn’t have much say in the matter. It wasn’t my job to deal with their crap, but it was my job to fix the girl up. And I would. I’d make her pretty again, no matter what I had to do.

“Your aunt called as well,” Turner pushed a Post-it note toward me. “She said that she was hoping she could borrow you for a couple of days for a funeral for a family. She tried your mother and she was too busy with a family of her own. She asked you to please call her back as soon as possible.”

I took the note from Turner’s fingers and glanced at the name and number.

Brittany—404-4088.

I sighed and picked the phone back up, dialing the number by heart.

“Hello?” my aunt Brittany answered, sounding out of breath.

“Hey,” I paused. “Why do you sound like you’ve been running?”

My aunt didn’t run.

She also didn’t work out, had a gorgeous body, and her husband loved the shit out of her.

I wanted her life—and her boobs.

“Because I had to heft two hundred and fifty pounds of dead man from the gurney to the table.” She paused. “Please tell me you can come down for a day or two.”

I looked at the woman on the computer screen.

“I have one I have to do before I go.” I paused and glanced at my watch. “I can get my dad to ride with me halfway. He’ll think it’s fun.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed. “I was really worrying here. The father wants to have the viewings next week while their family is in town so they don’t all have to go home then turn around and come back. I have three kids, parents, and a grandmother. All that needs to be done by Monday morning.”

I mentally calculated how long it’d take me to do the one in my cooler, and then said, “I can be there tomorrow morning as long as I have someone that’ll ride with me. Can Uncle Cabe take me back?”

“He should be able to,” she answered. “If not, I’ll hire a cab. Thank you.”

After hanging up, I dialed my dad’s phone and said, “Hey. Change of plans. I have to work today. Aunt Brittany needs my help with a few of her clients, and I have to get one done before I go in the morning.”

My dad made a few grumbles but didn’t argue because my aunt had done that for my mother quite a few times.

You could say being a mortician was the family business.

My mom ran her own funeral home in Arkansas where she lived with my dad. My aunt also ran one in Benton, Louisiana.

My grandmother and grandfather had also run their business in Tuscaloosa for fifty years.

“I can’t drive you, though.” He paused. “We need to see if we can find you someone else.”

I groaned. “Why can’t you?”

I drove, but I didn’t drive long distances.

I had a problem staying awake when I was in the car for any longer than fifteen minutes since I’d been struck by lightning. Long car rides were practically torture for me.

I took daily naps for one to two hours to try to circumvent my need to fall asleep in random places, and sometimes I even needed two.

Oh, and let’s not forget still going to bed at or before ten in the evening.

“Because they ran into a snag here for the system,” he answered. “I’m going to hang here for another day or two, and if you still need me, I can ride there when I’m done.”