Just Kiss Me by Rachel Gibson

road.
    “Who are those people?” Nonnie wanted to know.
    “Fans of the Raffle books and movies.”
    “What in the devil are they doing?”
    “Showing respect for Momma.”
    “Well, they’re not even bothering to hide their crazy.”
    Vivien didn’t think they were crazy, at least not all of them. She appreciated her fans, but some of them were certifiably crazy. Last year, a man dressed as Evil Commander Rath had tried to break into her house and she’d had to beef up security. Most were normal, respectful people but she did worry that some might show up at the cemetery and cause a distraction just by being there.
    As the limo pulled to a stop at the grave site, Vivien was relieved not to see anyone standing among the headstones with Zahara West’s symbol on their raised palm.
    The pallbearers poured out of the second limousine, then carried the white casket to the site. Nonnie, Vivien, Richie, and Kathy sat in the chairs provided by the funeral home. Henry and Spence stood directly behind them as Father Dinsmore conducted the committal service. The soles of Vivien’s peep-toe pumps were planted on the grass turf while her fingers twisted her white hankie. She’d thought the viewing had been the worst part.
    She’d been wrong. Nonnie placed her hand on Vivien’s and gave her a gentle squeeze. The older woman’s touch of unexpected kindness sent Vivien over the edge, and she could no longer hold back her grief. From behind her sunglasses, tears fell from her lids and a sob escaped her lips. What was she going to do without her momma?
    Henry rested a hand on her shoulder, and he spoke next to her right ear. “You can do this, Vivien.” His warm breath seeped through the netting of her veil and brushed the side of her throat. “You’re going to be okay.” With him standing so close, she almost believed him. He squeezed her shoulder and the warmth of his touch gave her strength at the moment she needed it most. His thumb brushed the back of her neck before he straightened and dropped his hand, and she felt the absence of his strength.
    The graveside service was blessedly short, and a confusion of emotions tumbled inside her stomach as she climbed back into the limo and rode away, leaving her mother behind. She felt relief that the funeral was over and guilt that she felt relief. Her momma was gone, and Vivien was completely alone now. Anxiety crawled across her skin and she made herself take slow, even breaths. Her momma would soon be in the ground.
    By the time Vivien made it to the reception in Nonnie’s double parlor, her head pounded and her throat hurt from trying to breathe past her tumble of grief and anxiety.
    Vivien raised the black netting from her face and made her way to the bar as Richie and Kathy joined the line of mourners at the tables groaning under the weight of funeral food. She’d managed to pour a glass of wine before her momma’s friends closed in on her to express their sorrow and give condolences. Everyone wanted to give her a hug and weep on her neck and let her know they’d pray for her. Vivien wasn’t opposed to anyone praying for her, she just wondered if the prayers would be sincere, or more in the vein of the disingenuous, “She’s too big for her britches. I’m going to pray for her.”
    A plate of food appeared beside her on the bar, filled with cherry-and-Coca-Cola salad, cheese mousse, and ham. A few minutes later, someone added corn loaf. After that another added anchovy-stuffed eggs and rosemary potatoes. The faces and names before her became a blur. For an hour, she received touches and hugs and yet felt so alone in the world.
    “Macy Jane was a wonderful lady,” one of her mother’s many church friends praised, while another said, “the service was real lovely,” all approved of her momma’s “big funeral.”
    “So much classier than Richard Green’s service last week,” one of the Episcopal ladies said, and they nodded in agreement.
    “After the liturgy,