The last time Alex had been in this funeral home was for her mother's wake. She remembered all the posters with pictures of her family, all the town's people coming over to say they were sorry, the flowers... but not today. Today the place was empty. It had this smell, like mouthwash, that made her want to gag. She almost turned and ran out, but Jason's hand on her shoulder steadied her.
"Alex?" a woman's voice echoed through the room and Alex turned around to see Mrs. Jones. She was a plump woman, short, and in her mid-fifties. She immediately embraced Alex in a familiar hug.
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled into Alex's chest then pulled back to arm's length and looked her over. "Nobody knew what happened to you. Some people thought you were dead. There were rumors."
Alex shook her head. "I was just in Miami trying to get into a company."
Mrs. Jones' eyes got big, "Did you make it?"
Alex looked at her leg and crutches, "It's been... things change."
Mrs. Jones nodded, "Are you going to take over your parent's studio then?"
Jason's head turned back and forth as the exchange continued. It was almost too much information for him to take in.
"You wait here," Mrs. Jones said. "I have your father's ashes."
She disappeared and Jason turned to Alex, "You know her?" He smiled mischievously.
"Small town," Alex said. "I taught her daughters."
"Taught?"
"When my mom died I took over teaching the little kids. My dad taught the older ones."
Mrs. Jones returned with a cardboard box lined with a thick plastic. She looked solemnly at Alex and her crutches then handed it to Jason.
"What's this?" he asked.
"My dad." Alex replied, her tone completely flat.
Mrs. Jones nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Jason looked at the box and at Alex. She was staring at the box as well, her affect had gone completely neutral.
"Thank you," she said to Mrs. Jones and started out on her crutches.
"I'm glad you're back," Mrs. Jones said. "I wish it were under different circumstances."
Alex nodded as she exited the building. Jason quickly followed. Mrs. Jones watched them leave and sighed as the door closed behind them.
***
YOU ARE READING
Neon Afterlife
Romance"You're this gorgeous, ballet-dancer-poet who knows the bartender at the sexy underground club where you take this girl you just rescued from a slimeball at the bus station." She stunned herself with this revelation as she paced back and forth. "Thi...
