Page 39 of Barristers & Bones

My conversation with Ivan had torn open old wounds, and on the drive home, I sat quietly, looking out the window. Slipping a package of Hot Tamales out of my backpack, I ate a couple and turned to Roman. “You want any?”

He shook his head. “I like the smell, but cinnamon candy is for people who hate their tastebuds.” He glanced at me. “What’s your problem? You haven’t asked me anything, and usually you’re about ten questions in before we leave the parking garage.”

“You’re hilarious.” I sighed. “Ivan brought up a few ghosts.”

“What do you mean?”

“My biological family is… a bad topic for me.”

He glanced at my profile. “And?” He prodded.

I didn’t trust Roman not to throw in my face whatever he learned about me, and it’d be a cold day in hell before I told him what my father had done, so I changed the subject. “In case anything comes up last-minute this weekend, I’m working a funeral tomorrow, and we have funeral parlor brunch poker on Sunday morning.”

“What’s funeral parlor brunch poker?”

“Once a month on a Sunday, Ezra holds an unofficial poker tournament at Palm Desert, and we have a potluck brunch to go along with it. It’s a great marketing tool, and it’s usually a lot of fun.”

“Who comes?” he asked.

“Mostly our friends and neighbors, and a few people from the community.”

We pulled up to my apartment, and Roman turned to me. “Sounds interesting.”

I smirked at his dry tone. “See you on Tuesday. I’d tell you to have a good weekend, but your weekends probably involve drinking blood and animal sacrifices.” He shook his head as I got out. At least he hadn’t come up to “use the bathroom” this time.

At the funeral on Saturday morning, I did a double take when I noticed Sasha and Misty from Euphoria walking into the funeral home together. They were both fully clothed and didn’t have as much makeup on, but Misty still wore a sparkly dress. Breaking from my usual position at the chapel door, I went over to say hello. Misty spotted me first and elbowed Sasha.

“Hi,” I said in a hushed voice. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m so sorry for your loss and I wanted to–”

Misty leaned in and hugged me, and Sasha followed suit. My parents never hugged or touched me, and I didn’t know exactly where to put my hands, or how long to hug. It always felt painfully awkward unless it was one of the Spades or Alexa.

“We remember you. You’re Luna, Roman Fowler’s intern.” Misty pointed to the front of the funeral chapel where an older deceased woman had been laid out in a pink pearlescent casket. “Ms. Maybell is my aunt.”

Sasha looked at my gold nametag. “Do you work here?”

“Sometimes. I live here too.”

They both stared at me, then Sasha started grinning. “You’re messing with us, right?”

“No.” Turning, I pointed to Sylvie and Alexa, both standing by the chapel doors, dressed in black with the same gold nametags. “Those are my roommates, and we live in the apartment above the mortuary.”

“Girl, that’s creepy-cool,” Sasha whisper-hissed with a big grin.

I made a split-second decision. “Listen, tomorrow we’re having our monthly poker brunch at the funeral home here. It starts at eleven and it’s pretty laid-back. If you want to come, just let me know. We do a potluck brunch with mimosas, then have a poker tournament. It only lasts a couple of hours, but it’s a lot of fun and the food is always good.”

They stared at each other for a second, then grinned. “Fuck, yes,” Misty squealed.

An older man shushed us, and I motioned to my spot by the chapel door. “I need to get back, but I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

On Sunday morning, Sylvie and I set up the tables and chairs and laid out the tablecloths, face cards, and poker chips. Ezra had baked a large cheesy breakfast casserole, and Sylvie and I whipped up a big green salad and thick brownies.

Then we pulled out the champagne and orange juice and mixed up a few mimosas. When Sasha and Misty arrived, the party was in full swing with a mixture of people from the neighborhood, including Sophia and the cooks from Luigi’s.

Sasha looked around. “It seems so cheerful and bright in here today.”

I grinned. “Not having a dead body, sad mourners, and heavy organ music helps. Come meet everyone, and let’s get a mimosa.”

A few hours later, Sylvie and I waved as Misty and Sasha stumbled into a ride share, drunk and giggling. We looked at each other and started laughing.

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