His Beloved

As he walked into the living room, he sighed. It has been a terribly long and exhausting day and the next day would be the same. Sitting down in his old broken in lazy boy, he put his feet up and sighed, leaned back to get comfortable as the clock on the mantel chimed. Ten-fifteen. For a man who worked strange hour, this was early for him, despite the fact that he could feel his entire body relaxing into the softness of his chair. He couldn't help it he supposed. When you go from running a funeral home with anywhere from two to four licensed, full time funeral directors down to one, you were certain to be exhausted. Add to that your own personal issues, and the fact that the funeral he had conducted earlier that day and the one he would be conducting on Monday were merely children, no older than his own cherished group that he and his wife raised, he was finding it amazing that he was still awake enough to even be thinking. A dangerous sign for him that maybe he should turn over the phones to the answering service for the night, something he very rarely did because he simply liked to be in control. Another thing he found was simply part of him. Standing up, he slowly made his way into the outer office and over to the white plastic table that served as a desk for his young assistant. Sitting down in the desk chair, he couldn't help but admire how she managed to personalize the table and make it her own, and still manage to keep it neat enough so she could use it when she had to. Picking up the black receiver, he punched in a few numbers, double checking them against the phone cord on the desk and after the first ring was greeted by a cool, crisp voice on the other end of the phone. "Good evening. Walter Martens & Sons. How many I help you?" Certainly not as personal as the greeting both her and Victoria used, but it got the job done. "Yes this is Walter Martens. I'm not going to be able to answer phones tonight, I'm sorry. If we should get a call, would you ask them to hold it until morning. If they can't, then would you notify me." he explained as the cool voice on the other end responded. "Certainly. Will that be on your cell then Mr. Martens?" "Oh, yeah. Yes...my cell." he quickly answered as he felt his eye lids start to close. "Very well. Walter Jr. on his cell. Good night sir." she answered, still wide awake and probably running on coffee. Setting the phone back in its cradle, he quickly picked it back up and dialed the funeral home's 3rd line before he set the receiver on the desk and stood up as it rang the rest of the phones in the office. Taking a few steps, he stepped over to his son's desk and answered the phone by picking it up and placing it on the desk as well. Then, without even thinking, he headed right back to his lazy boy chair and sat down, kicked his feet up and leaned back. He was too tired to even make it to hi bedroom about a 1,000 feet away. Grabbing the blanket that was behind his head, he threw it around himself and drifted off into an uneasy and restless sleep.

The Ride Home

Standing at the cemetery, he couldn't help but smile as he watched his assistant work with the family as they waited to go back to the committal shelter. "She's a natural" he thought as she walked over to the widow and began to give her some directions. "She's certainly got something I can work with." 

"Sir? Are you feeling alright? Perhaps you should sit in the van. It's rather warm out." she spoke, as he shook his head, his thoughts now broken.

"What did you say?" he questioned, as she looked at him, her eyes full of concern. They were a long way from the funeral home, and it was only the two of them on the funeral.

"I asked if you're feeling alright. You look very flustered all of a sudden." she repeated, as he nodded his head, took out his monogrammed handkerchief and blotted his brow dry. The temperature easily had to be at least ninety degrees. Tucking it back into his pocket, he smiled.

"Just fine. Why don't you go move the van. I'll get everybody into their cars." he suggested, as she silently nodded her head and climbed into the silver funeral home van, slowly pulling it forward, as he informed the family that it was time to leave and head back to the committal shelter for the services.

~~~

"You can drive home if you want." he said to her about an hour later, as they watched the last of the family car's pull away from the curb to leave the cemetery. She had done well with this family, and he was very proud of her, but then again, she always worked her hardest with the families whenever she had gotten the chance, and for that, he was very glad that he had hired her. 

"Yeah okay." she replied, as she peeled her gray striped jacket off and tossed it lazily on her arm, as he followed, removing his best navy blue jacket and sighing. "Urgh, this heat is unbearable." she moaned.

"Well, I'll think about that while I'm sitting in the back seat praying." he teased her, as she stamped her foot in protest. She was easily aggravated about jokes on her driving. 

"That's not fair. I'm a good drive when I have the company car." she protested as they climbed in and sighed a sigh of relief at the temperature difference. The van must have been at least ten degree's cooler. 

~~~

As she hit the highway and set the cruise for a comfortable 70 miles per hour, she settled back into the drivers seat for the twenty mile drive back to town. With the air vents opened, the car had cooled to at least a twenty degree temperature difference, and he easily found himself fighting to stay awake on the ride home. As conversation started to dwindle between the two of them, (sometimes there was simply nothing to talk about) she looked over to find him asleep in the passenger seat and she breathed a sigh of relief. This week had turned into a crazy one. Not as bad as it could have been, but bad enough to prevent him from getting the proper sleep she knew he should have every night. The nap on the trip home would do him some good. 

He found that sleep, no matter how much he tried to fight it, had come to him, and in a way, he was happy. Sleep had been something that he hadn't gotten much of this week, so every little cat nap made a difference to him. But would she be alright? She was a good driver, and it wasn't her driving that he was worried about. But the heat had been very hard on them all today and she had been rubbing her forehead and the back of her neck like she normally did when she had a headache. He gave her credit, she always tried so hard to hide when she had a headache, but he had learned her signs when she did have one. Opening one of his eyes, he peeked over at her, but she seemed comfortable. Closing his eyes, he sighed as he settled into the passenger seat to sleep. He trusted her to get them home in one piece.