Firm Ambitions by Michael A. Kahn

glory.”
    â€œWhere?’
    â€œTen o’clock. Blue dress. No bra. Praise the Lord.”
    She was a platinum blonde. I studied her as she paused in the aisle to our left, three rows down from us. She looked like this year’s poster girl for the American Society of Plastic Surgeons. Her high round breasts didn’t merely defy gravity; they were completely oblivious to it. I recognized her from the aerobics class. She had not been in the photo album.
    Benny placed his hand over his heart. “I believe I am experiencing what the Catholic Church describes as an epiphany.”
    â€œOh? Is that a Torah in your tabernacle or are you just glad to see her?”
    Benny turned to me with a solemn expression. “Now, now, Rachel. As the good Lord is my witness, so long as I have a face, that woman will have a place to sit.”
    Benny and I were in the back row of the mortuary chapel. We had arrived early and passed by the open coffin while the chapel was still empty. I had been surprised to see that Andros was dressed in a black-and-silver Nike warm-up outfit.
    â€œTacky,” Benny had said with a shake of his head as we took our seats in the empty back row of the chapel. “He’s going to feel like a total putz when he shows up on Judgment Day in that silly costume.”
    The other early arrival had been Poncho Israel. He came in just after we took our seats. He walked by the coffin up front and settled into a seat in the back row on the other side of the chapel. He had looked over and acknowledged me with a friendly nod.
    â€œHow ’bout this babe?” Benny asked, gesturing toward the right aisle. “She in the album?”
    There were several women in the line of mourners slowly moving down the aisle. “Which one?”
    â€˜The redhead in the double-breasted jacket.”
    â€œOh, no. Not her.”
    â€œYou know her?”
    I nodded. “Her name is Christine Maxwell.” She was wearing a conservative double-breasted glen-plaid suit jacket with a matching knee-length skirt and a black silk blouse. Her short red hair was parted on the side and combed back behind her ears.
    â€œIs she a lawyer?”
    I watched as she moved down the aisle toward the front. “No. According to Ann, she’s some sort of insurance agent or financial adviser.”
    â€œMarried?”
    â€œDon’t know. But she’s not for you, Benny.”
    â€œHow do you know that? When it comes to tall redheads with long legs, I can be very tolerant.
    â€œShe’s not. Trust me.”
    She moved slowly past the open coffin and followed the path to the aisle against the far wall. As she started up the aisle, looking for a seat, a dark-haired man in the second row stood up and gestured her over. He pointed to a space next to him.
    â€œHer husband?” Benny asked.
    I watched her move down the row toward the man. He had a dark mustache, a deep tan, and a gold band on his ring finger along with big pinkie rings on each pinkie. He was wearing an expensive-looking green suit with no back vent. When she reached him, he put a hand on her shoulder and she kissed him quickly on the cheek. “I don’t think so,” I said. They seemed more like business colleagues than husband and wife.
    I checked my watch. The funeral was scheduled to start in ten minutes. The chapel was already half full, and the line of people waiting to pay their last respects stretched to the back of the chapel. Most were female. Several were dabbing at their eyes or wiping their nose with a handkerchief.
    I heard someone’s pager start beeping. Poncho stood up and clicked it off as he left the chapel.
    â€œSo how was Sarah’s big date?” Benny asked.
    â€œShe got home after midnight.”
    â€œSounds to me like Sarah and Tex played more than one round of miniature golf.”
    â€œDon’t start, Benny. No golf jokes.”
    â€œNot even one about Hizzoner’s