Until Next Time Page 4

  The heart-melting smile that crossed his expression was enough to make her swoon. And she wasn’t quite the swooning type. She was far more grounded than that. Far more.

  “Will you be attending the service?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “It’s private. For the family. Once everyone is here, the doors will close.” There was no way she’d be able to handle sermon after sermon about death. Listening to the crying and the sad music, over and over. It was already hard enough the block out the emotions with what she did do at the funeral home. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, though. If anyone needs me, that is.”

  A single brow rose. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Piper said her polite goodbyes to Quinn, stuffing down the familiar heat that had crept up in her chest during their conversation, and positioned herself at the entryway of the funeral home. It was time for her to do her job: escorting the dead to their eternal homes and robotically comforting those left behind.

  <<<<>>>>>

  She was amazing. That was the only word Quinn could find on the tip of his tongue as he continued to cast glances Piper’s way while simultaneously greeting family members arriving for the service. He’d never met someone so grounded and yet so detached. And so…so very vulnerable. She hid herself—and her emotions—from people. Not many people would notice the way she used her words and body language to keep people at a distance, while at the same time offering them comfort in their time of need. But Quinn noticed. The way she shook hands without really looking people in the eye. The way she accepted hugs with a stiff, but friendly embrace and a warm, but not sincere smile. The way her eyes slightly glazed over as people spoke to her about their passed loved one. She was there in body only. What a tragic scene.

  A smack on his shoulder drew his attention away from the picturesque Piper. His youngest brother, Del, stood at eye level with him.

  “How are the memorial flight plans coming?” Del’s voice was smooth, much like his attitude.

  “Fine.” Quinn’s gaze swung to his grandpa who was shaking hands and hugging people by the head of the casket. “Dad already worked the aerial plans over with the VA. We can add the simple maneuvers into the standard show we do.”

  “They didn’t give Dad any trouble? I mean, Grandma wasn’t a veteran.”

  Quinn shrugged. “Technically the show is hosted by the Air National Guard, and the VA portion is only a small part of the show. But since their flights are the ‘welcome home’ event for returning veterans, Dad wanted to make sure our addition would fit well with the program. And besides, most of the pilots know what it’s like to lose a loved one. They were happy to be able to give us the air time in order to give Grandpa a good show for his wife. Especially since Dad and Grandpa can’t fly anymore.”

  Del grunted. “Yeah. Dad hasn’t stopped talking about it week. Driving me insane, he is.”

  Quinn scanned the room, letting his stare settle on Piper for a few seconds longer than everyone else. “Did you ride with KC?”

  “No, he rode with Dad and Ma. Something about Dad needing an extra set of arms for the stuff he’s bringing to the funeral. Sarah drove separately. I guess she’ll be driving him home.”

  “Ah.” Quinn gave a knowing sigh. Marcus Oliver always had a way of giving one last hoorah for the recently departed. His own mother would be no different.

  Del twisted around to look behind him. “What do you keep looking at? Oh…” He spun back around and grinned. “The girl from Grandpa’s house. She’s undoubtedly nice to look at.”

  Quinn nodded, not giving Del the ammunition he was looking for. “We’ve got about ten minutes left. What do you say we make sure Dad has all his stuff ready and we take our seats?”

  Del grinned, his green eyes lighting with amusement. “Sure thing.”

  Two hours later, Quinn was exhausted. Not because he was sad, although he would have liked to see his grandmother’s smile once more in person. But there would be a time for that again someday. He truly didn’t believe they were permanently parting ways. Like his family had always taught him, it wasn’t goodbye, it was until next time.

  A weight lifted after the funeral, and yet he was still feeling somber. The new burden came because his mind kept swirling around the woman he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. The one who stole his breath and made him think about things he hadn’t thought about in a long time. The attraction to her had latched onto him alarmingly fast. The very thing he’d been waiting for was his to go after. The only problem was he had no idea how to really go after it. He’d been out of the game for a little too long.

  He sighed as he slid into the front seat of his car, thankful to get out of the hot summer air. The funeral had been beautiful. The pastor—and his own father—had given wonderful speeches about life and death. The graveside service, with the rustling trees, hot bustling wind, and smell of roses, had been exactly what his grandmother would have wanted. He wished his grandmother could have been there to actually see it. He stripped his tie and undid the top few buttons of his dress shirt. Then he smiled. Grandma had been there. He’d felt it. And from the hope in his grandpa’s eyes during the service, Quinn knew that he’d felt it, too. It was as if she’d been at Grandpa’s side with her hand on his shoulder, comforting him through it. He could picture her now standing right next to Grandpa by her headstone, whispering in his ear, telling him they would be together again soon. Grandpa was smiling, his aged eyes lighting up in the high sun.

  Grinning at the picture before him, Quinn put his car in drive. KC knocked on the side window with his knuckles.

  Quinn cranked it down. “You scared the bejesus out of me.”

  He gave a crooked smile. “Sorry. Dad wanted to make sure you’d be at his house later for dinner.”

  “Yeah. I told Dad that earlier.” He frowned. It wasn’t like his father to have already forgotten.

  KC tapped on the door frame. “Good, I’ll remind him then. See you later.”

  Quinn eased away from the string of cars surrounding the graveyard. Twenty minutes and one stop later, he stood outside of the Downing & Sons Funeral Home. Inhaling a deep breath, he rapped on the door. He knew he didn’t have to knock. The sign said Open. Please come inside, but he wanted to seem official. He didn’t want to see Piper for business. Not this time.

  The door swung open, and Quinn stumbled back.

  “Hello, can I help you?” A lanky woman with black lipstick and rounded features leaned against the door.

  “Uh, yes. Is Piper in?”

  “Are you here for business? You didn’t have to knock.”

  “I know. And I’m not here for business.” He wiggled the flowers he held in his hand.

  The woman’s penciled-in eyebrows raised a fraction, and then a blinding white smile lit her painted, pale face. “Ah. Please, come in.” She waved him inside with slender fingers. “She’s in her office.”

  Quinn took a careful step inside the door.

  “I’m Margo Douglas, by the way. I’m an embalmer here.”

  An undertaker who looked the part. Somehow, that wasn’t what Quinn had been expecting. Quinn knew his expression had to be perplexed. He was baffled at both the woman herself and the strange metal thing sticking out of her top lip.

  “I don’t bite,” she said with a smile that was too bright for her dark makeup. “It’s the makeup, isn’t it?” She ruffled her ratted hair. “Don’t worry, I don’t normally dress like this. A friend’s throwing a party.” She took Quinn by the arm and led him a few more steps in the foyer. “It’s an amplification study, really,” she explained in a soothing voice that didn’t match her cold-colored eyes. “My boyfriend’s a psych major, and he decided to do his thesis on the perception of employment. The dinner party is where we’re getting together, discussing our jobs, and talking about the stereotypes.” Her hands spread out in display. “I work with the dead, hence the outfit and makeup.”

  “Oh. Oh.” Quinn flashed a quick smile. “That makes
sense.”

  She winked at him. “Sorry if I frightened you. Piper would have a fit if she knew I answered the door like this. Jessica had to leave early, and I guess Piper’s caught up in her office. Stay here. I’ll see if I can catch her for you.”

  As Margo was turning around, the sound of heels clicked on the hardwood to the right, drawing Quinn’s attention to it. To her. Piper was gripping the washed-out white door frame and readjusting a floppy strap on her heels. His shoved his hand holding the flowers behind his back.

  “Jessica,” she called, without even acknowledging the two of them already standing in the open space. Fiddling with her shoes, she continued, “Mr. Ryan seems to be having a difficult time with the arrangements. He’s considering having his wife cremated, but I can tell it’s not because he wants an urn so as not to be parted from his beloved wife. The National Cemeteries in Wisconsin are currently closed, so he must put his wife in a private cemetery, which adds significantly to his cost. He cried when I told him how much it was. I don’t think he can afford the service on his pension, so I was thinking I’d—”

  Margo cleared her throat. Piper’s head snapped up, her eyes locking on Quinn. She stopped meddling with her shoe and stood up straight.

  “Oh.” Piper’s voice came out more like a peep. Even after the word, as short as it was, was fully out, her pink lips remained in the perfect o shape. Her hands fluttered around the buttons of her black suit jacket. “Mr. Oliver,” she said. “I apologize for my breach of Mr. Ryan’s privacy. I should be more careful when I start to discuss clients in the public rooms.”

  Quinn tilted his head. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Piper’s gaze slid to Margo. Her hand flew to her mouth. Quinn wasn’t sure if it was because of him, the privacy breach, or the gothic embalmer. Piper’s eyes darted back and forth quickly.

  “Jessica had to leave early,” Margo said. “I was filling in the last hour of her shift.” She glanced at a thick leather watch around her wrist. “But now that time is over. I’ll be going.”

  Quinn could barely contain his laughter from the look on Piper’s face. Shock? Confusion? A little of both?

  “Sorry about the outfit, Piper.” Margo made her way to a closet in the far corner of the foyer, yanked out her purse, and headed to the front door. “I’ve got a special dinner party tonight.”

  Piper’s face regained some of its lost color. She nodded numbly, her eyes still swinging between him and Margo.

  Margo made a quiet exit, leaving Piper and Quinn alone in the vast space. A slight wind from a high overhead vent blew air across Quinn’s face, making the petals on the flowers on the tables by the wall swish.

  Piper rolled her shoulders, offering Quinn a tentative smile. “Again, I’m sorry about what you overhead. Totally unprofessional on my part.”

  “I said it was okay. I won’t tell a soul.” Quinn’s heart swelled as an idea took root. He could help this man. He would help this man. “Might I offer you a suggestion?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Suggestion?”

  “Yes. Mr. Ryan is a veteran?” he asked although he already knew the answer.

  Piper frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t divulge more than I already have.”

  Quinn withheld a chuckle. Of course she couldn’t. “Well, I’m going to assume he is, otherwise there wouldn’t be any talk of National Cemeteries. My family’s in the military as well. Shortly after the Vietnam War, my grandfather started a foundation…Warriors with a Cause. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

  “Yes, I think I have.” She twisted her hands together, still looking flushed. Quinn itched to bring the flowers from around his back, to see a smile light her face. “They help wounded veterans with extra necessities after being injured, right?”

  “Basically, yes. Veterans Affairs covers the cost of medical care and supplies upon returning home, but sometimes families find the transition difficult. My grandfather created the foundation many years ago to help cover more basic, mostly unconsidered needs like wheelchairs ramps in homes, rides to and from treatment, places for family to stay if they’re far from home, that sort of thing. Then there’s the mental health aspect, which unfortunately is lacking. The foundation is a collective effort between living veterans and donations from those who’ve passed. Our goal is to help fill in the gaps when the VA benefits don’t go as far as they need to.”

  Quinn felt tremendous sympathy for Mr. Ryan and other elderly vets like him. It was expensive to get old. Quinn’s grief counseling at the local VA hospital had taught him a great deal about the cost of being both hurt and growing old. Life was a precious gift, but growing old was a struggle for most. No less so for veterans.

  Shaking himself out of the past, he continued, “When my grandmother fell ill and my grandfather discovered the National Cemetery dilemma, he saw a need to broaden the scope of the foundation, to helping cover the costs of a loved one’s death.”

  Those big cinnamon eyes went wide. “That’s amazing.”

  “Grandpa’s pretty proud.” As was Quinn. He gave Piper a bright smile. “Anyway, I’m sure the foundation would be pleased to make the Ryans the first to benefit from this new initiative. I can give you more information if you like.”

  Her hand rubbed across her slicked-back hair, fiddling with tendrils that escaped her bun. She still looked uneasy for some reason. “I’ll mention it to him and let you know. Thank you.”

  She eyed the arm snaked around his back. “Is everything okay with you—I mean your family? Was everything okay during the service?”

  He didn’t move toward her, though now he wanted to. “No, no. The service was beautiful. Your minister did a wonderful job. Grandpa sends his sincere thanks.”

  More color swam to her cheeks. She crossed over to the table by the wall to his left. “Good. We always like to hear we’ve done a good job.” Her fingers slid over the tips of the white roses settled in a crystal vase. She grabbed it up and held it out. “These came after the ceremony. They’re for your grandpa. Would you see that he gets them?”

  Quinn took the vase in his free hand, enjoying the brush of her fingers against his. His other hand remained behind his back. “Sure.”

  Her long lashes fluttered as her magnetic stare met his. Her head cocked, her bottom lip quivered slightly. And yet…she said nothing. She combed over his face, her gaze lingering on his lips. That made him want to smile. But he didn’t. After several silent moments, her attention snapped back to his.

  “Uh, did you need anything else?”

  “Yes.” He inhaled sharply, enjoying Piper’s spicy scent mingled with the softness of the roses. “During our conversation this afternoon before my grandmother’s funeral, I realized that I’d like to get know you better.” The arm behind his back swung forward, displaying a full bouquet of spring daisies, lilies, and baby’s breath. “Would you care to join me for dinner?”

  If Piper was shocked now—or even happy—she didn’t show it. Her gaze never left Quinn’s, not even to eye the bountiful flowers in his grip.

  The same slow and somber smile he’d seen Piper give his entire family at the funeral earlier that day was now focused on him.

  “That’s sweet,” she replied. With a gentle grip, she took him by the elbow and led him the few short steps back to the door. “Thank you for the invitation, Quinn. I really do appreciate it.”

  He swallowed as she opened the door. She gave him a gentle push, that eerie smile still stretched across her features. He backed onto the porch.

  Her hand dropped to the bouquet in his hands. “They’re beautiful,” she commented, stroking each perfect bloom. “I’ve seen plenty of flowers in my line of work.” She stepped back, her attention riveted back on his face. His lips.

  “Too many flowers.” Her teasing tone conflicted with her tight smile. “It was very nice of you to ask, Quinn, but I’m afraid I can’t. It wouldn’t be appropriate, I’m afraid.” She didn’t quite look at him while she was looking at him. It was the strangest
feeling. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Quinn?”

  He was too stunned to speak.

  “All right, then. Please call if you need anything else concerning the services. Have a good night,” she said with a quiet nod. She shut the door. It clicked ominously, and Quinn was left standing alone on the front porch of the funeral home with nothing but the whipping wind and hurt pride to keep him company.

  Chapter Four

  Piper blew her cheeks full of air, stretching them out to chipmunk capacity. She gazed out the window, watching Quinn pause at his car, look back at the house, and then finally get in and drive away. Frustrated, she banged her head on the closed door a few times. The air in her mouth rushed out, making a funny sound across her lips. What had she done?

  One more good, hard bang against the door and Piper pushed away from it, dragging herself to her apartment right upstairs from her funeral home.

  She’d had no choice but to tell Quinn no, right?

  Right.

  There was a definite attraction between her and Quinn. She could see that. Feel it. She allowed her shoes to slip off as she jogged up the stairs to her apartment. Well, house. The place she slept at night.

  As soon as she was behind the closed doors of her inner sanctum, she shed her suddenly constricting clothes, opting for more practical yoga pants and a loose-fitting tee. She liked coming home from a day of work to the atmosphere that was so vastly different than the funeral home downstairs. Instead of dark panel, wallpapered walls, and muted floral couches, Piper’s home was full of color. Each room had a different shade.

  She made her way to the dark red kitchen contrasted by white cabinets and steel appliances. It was small—the whole place was small—but it worked. When her parents had been alive, they’d all lived in the house next-door to the funeral home. But after her parents died, she couldn’t stand to live under that same roof with those same memories. Piper couldn’t bear to part with the old home, either. It was a rental now. A lovely family of five called it home. And Piper called the attic home. Well, it had been an attic. A gigantic one. Big enough for all the necessities. A living room, a tiny kitchen—because who had time to cook?—a bedroom and a bath. Simple and perfect.