Emma and Joe walked hand in hand through the double doors
into the vestibule. A kind, unobtrusive gentleman, who seemed to materialize
out of nowhere, directed them to the right room and then glided away soundlessly.
Joe released her hand, and Emma signed the guestbook for Joe, herself, and
Andrew, and then stared at the two caskets that stood side by side across the
room. Thankfully, no one else was in the room.
One casket was closed, but in the other she glimpsed
Rachel’s light brown hair. After a moment’s hesitation, she walked over to
Evan’s casket, her feet scuffing slightly against the plush carpet. Joe walked
a few paces behind her and stopped a couple of feet from the casket, his arms
crossed.
The frigid air reminded Emma of the computer room at
Joe’s office, which had also been her office before Andrew was born. Dressed
for the Texas heat back home, she hugged herself with both arms as she stared
silently at the gleaming lid of the polished maple casket. What was she
supposed to do? What was she even feeling for Evan, whom she’d never known all
that well?
