Page 26 of Picking Pismo

Skillfully, Claire had avoided this decision for the last several weeks. Once the inscription was done, then everything would be final. And Claire hadn’t been ready to unpack what that meant.

Claire cleared her throat, “What is the remaining balance again?”

“Let me double check. Would this be with the inscription you gave me earlier. Or did you want to make some changes?”

Honestly, Claire couldn’t remember what she wrote down in a grief-stricken haze. How did she sum up the one person in her life that meant everything to her? Nothing seemed sufficient.

“Could you remind me of the inscription? I can’t remember,” asked Claire.

Claire heard him shuffle some papers around.

“I have it right here.” Mr. Howard cleared his throat. “It will read ‘A mother’s love, like an imperishable sun, cannot go out.’ Are you still okay with that inscription?”

“Sure,” Claire ran a hand over the top of her hair.

“So, with no additional changes, the balance due will be $1,752,” stated Mr. Howard.

Claire slumped in her seat. She knew headstones were costly, but she didn’t realize how expensive they were. If she chose a different one, she would start the entire awful process over again.

A pinch between her shoulder blades made her neck ache. “When is the balance due?” asked Claire.

“We need the balance to start the headstone inscription. That’s why I’m calling. We can’t risk getting stuck with something someone can’t pay for. Unfortunately, this happens a lot in our business,” replied Mr. Howard.

“I understand.” Claire locked her jaw. “I’ll bring by a check as soon as possible.”

Claire ended the call. Throwing her head into her palmed hands, Claire didn’t know how she’d pay for it. After selling off most of Mom’s things, she saved some funds, but it was needed for their move to Los Angeles. Putting the headstone on a credit card was an option, but Claire had never taken on debt. Mom had insisted that Claire should live within her means, and to only purchase things when they could be paid for in full.

With no solution, Claire climbed out of the car and went inside. She walked slowly through the almost empty home. Each room only contained a few stray items. There was nothing of any real value left to sell. Even if she wanted to, it wouldn’t be enough to cover the headstone and the necessary move.

Stressed out, Claire settled at Mom’s desk, a family heirloom from her great grandmother, the one piece of furniture Claire refused to sell. The top of the desk was covered with different bills, bills which needed to be paid. Her heart raced and anxiety pulsated through her, and instead of leaning into the panic, she whispered a silent prayer. God always found a way. She only wondered how He’d help her this time.

Then her gaze landed on a box Claire had placed on the desk weeks ago. Slowly, she peeled back the closed top. Inside were dozens of condolence cards collected at the funeral. In her grief, Claire failed to open any of them. Taking the first one out of the box, she ran her finger under the seal to open it and out dropped forty dollars. She gasped. Surely, it was the only card containing money. After reading the kind message, Claire picked up another card and opened it, revealing another twenty dollars.

Claire spent the rest of the morning reading and opening the cards. She cried as she read the sweet words of encouragement, many from people she didn’t know. Some were former students Mom had taught over the years. Many commented on how Mom was their favorite teacher and retold memories of their experience in her class. When every card was opened, Claire counted the money, it was sufficient to cover the cost of the headstone. Claire wept, thankful for the kindness of others.

Then her phone dinged. Claire fished it out of her pocket, revealing a message from David.

I hope your day is going well. Can I come by tonight? I’d love to see you again. I’ll bring dinner for you and Alexis.

Sounds great! Maybe 6?

Great, see you then.

Smiling, Claire slid her phone back into her pocket. Her mood was lighter than only hours earlier. Gathering up the money, Claire left to pay for the headstone before picking up Alexis from school.

Later that evening, Alexis sat at the kitchen table finishing up some homework. “What time is David going to be here? I’m starving.” She slammed her pencil down on top of her spiral notebook.

“I told him six.” Claire glanced over at her from her place in the kitchen. She was sorting through the cupboards, still deciding what to get rid of and what to keep. “He should be here any minute.”

She placed some more of the random unnecessary kitchen items into a box to be donated. Mom had been a wonderful cook, but Claire had no use for twenty spatulas. The kitchen in her apartment was tiny and was already stocked with what she needed.

Groaning, Alexis face planted herself on top of her open textbook. “I hope he doesn’t bring something I don’t like.”

Claire went to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. Over her shoulder, she said, “I think you’ll like what he brings. David specifically asked about what you liked, and I gave him some suggestions.”

Alexis perked up, sitting straight again. “He did?” She smiled. “I knew I liked him.”

Turning back around, Claire finished washing her hands. She dried them on the towel hanging from the oven handle. “I’m glad.” Her own stomach rumbled. “David’s thoughtful like that. I still can’t believe he’s divorced. I mean who divorces a guy who asks about food preferences?”

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