“I’m going to shower. Tatum sold a house today, so we’re going to celebrate.”
“She can help me peel the rest of these apples.”
Tatum didn’t hesitate. She slipped off her wool coat and pushed up her sleeves. “Let me just wash my hands.”
Grinning to myself, I headed downstairs to shower. By the time I finished getting ready, I heard my dad’s deep voice from the kitchen. While buttoning my flannel shirt, I poked my head up the stairs just enough to hear them more clearly.
“So you’re a realtor?” Dad asked Tatum.
“Yes. I’m not sure it’s what I’ll do forever, but I like my boss. The money is good. And I’ve been told I have a knack for selling houses. How about you? What do you do?”
Here we go …
“I’m a taxidermist. But last year I started offering freeze-drying services, and it’s really taken off.”
A pause followed. I cringed. Hal’s parents prepared dead bodies for funerals and burials … my dad preserved animals. It started out as a service to hunters and a few of the big sporting goods stores in Kansas City. But then he purchased freeze-drying chambers and started offering that service to pet owners. Who would want to freeze-dry their family dog?
Apparently, a lot of people in Missouri and other states in the Midwest.
“Oh … freeze-drying?” Tatum asked after clearing her throat.
“You betcha. It’s a much better final product. We freeze them first. Then we can thaw them just enough to pose into the desired position … then it gets put into the top chamber of the freeze-dryer at zero degrees. After that, it gets put in the lower chamber which is a condenser chamber. That’s set somewhere between negative fifty-five to negative seventy degrees Fahrenheit. That low pressure draws out the moisture quickly from the ice state to the vapor state. It keeps it from deteriorating and prevents the tissues from shrinking. All the organs, bones, skin … it all remains intact. It’s really quite amazing.”
Another pregnant pause.
It wasn’t my MO to spring the freeze-drying on my dates so early in a relationship, but Tatum insisted on coming to my house. And honestly, I hadn’t had actual relationships beyond a single date and casual sex.
“It’s … fascinating. And … people … like pet owners really freeze-dry their pets? And keep them in their house? Uh … dead?” She asked all the usual questions.
“Absolutely,” Dad replied with enthusiasm.
I climbed the stairs to rescue her or maybe to get the quick brush-off as she ran out the door. “Hey. Ready to go?” I grabbed my leather jacket off the back of the dining room chair.
Tatum wore a cautious smile as she finished peeling the last apple in the bowl my mom gave her. “Yeah. Just let me wash my hands and put on my jacket.”
“Thanks for your help, Tatum. I hope we get to see you again.” Mom’s code for “if my son doesn’t blow it.”
“Anytime. It was nice meeting both of you.” She dried her hands, and I helped her put on her jacket, which earned me an approving smile from my mom.
“I’ll drive since you’ll be the one celebrating.” I opened the passenger’s door to my truck.
Tatum inspected the mud caked on the running board of my truck before grabbing the handle and landing in the seat—a graceful deer hopping over a fence—without touching the running board. “And why aren’t you celebrating with me?” She fastened her seat belt.
I shrugged. “Not much of a drinker.” Before she could respond, I shut the door.
We made it several miles down the road with my country music station on the radio before Tatum broached the topic, the elephant in the truck. “So … your dad freeze-dries animals. That was unexpected.”
My mouth twitched on one side, but my gaze remained on the road before us.
“My dad drives a truck for Waste Management. He has for over thirty years. And my mom teaches music lessons out of their home. Mainly flute and piano. She’s also a crossing guard on Walnut Street, north of the elementary school. Someone has to pick up the trash. Right? And help kids cross the street?”
It was like she forgot who she was talking to—the guy who graduated with straight A’s but didn’t go to college. I worked for my brother, running heavy equipment because … someone had to clean up chemical spills and remove trees after storms. Right?
“My best friend’s parents work at Clayburn’s Funeral Home. He’s the director, and she puts makeup on dead bodies. If everyone wanted or had the same job, the world wouldn’t function. Can you imagine your dog dying and having to have it cremated or burying it in the backyard instead of being able to freeze it and set it by your front door to scare the crap out of everyone who came to visit?”