February 18 No Cocktails, but the Elephant's Here

The viewing was actually “calling hours,” since the casket was closed.  I think Margaret would have wanted a closed casket no matter what; she would go into a toilet stall if she had to lift her skirt to pull her blouse down.

People were standing in clusters, presumably with their own groups – church friends, relatives with their particular family branches, old grade school and high school friends.  People would start to smile and then remember where they were.  It looked like a cocktail party gone bad, without the cocktails, of course. 

I joined some of my friends from the library.  We didn’t have much to say that was suitable for a viewing; it would be tacky to discuss suspects and motives.

So we commented on the flowers.  They were very nice, lovely, and beautiful.  “Did you go up yet?” someone asked me.  I hadn’t, so I did.  When I introduced myself to Margaret’s sister, she knew me.  “Peggy talked about you a lot, both of you being into books and all.”  Peggy!  The fact that Margaret had a nickname seemed even more surprising than that she’d been murdered. 

Margaret’s brother-in-law and nephews stood bravely receiving condolences and her pre-teen niece hung by her mother, clutching a cloth handkerchief printed with hearts.  I wondered if they’d had to run out and get suitable clothes for the children, the way we did when my mother died.  (The girls didn’t have dresses that fit and Josh didn’t own a tie.  He’s probably lost that one by now.) 

My group was going out for coffee, but I had promised the kids to tell them all about the viewing.  Before I left, I looked around to see if anyone looked suspicious.  No luck.  I wonder if anyone was looking at me and if I passed.

The three of them were waiting for me.  I could barely get my coat off.  I made us all cocoa and it was really quite cozy, almost like talking over a party or wedding.  I told them about the closed casket (a disappointment) and the lack of suspects (another bummer).  Josh wanted to know if there’d been any police there.  I hadn’t thought to look.   

Ed wandered in and grabbed some marshmallows.  “Don’t worry, guys.  Mommy will have much more to tell after they question her.  That is, if they let her come home.”

I gave him a Look and Betsey and Josh said, “Oh, Daddy.”  Cilla threw her arms around my neck.  It took fifteen minutes to convince her that Ed was kidding.