Until Next Time by Justine Dell

brows together. “First—” she twirled around and shuffled across the room. “—there never was a me and Dave. It was a few dates, that’s all. He wanted serious, and I don’t do serious. Plus, we did business together, and I decided that wasn’t a good idea.” She flipped through a clipboard full of paperwork, checking off boxes about the body she’d just completed, filling in notes when needed.
    “And Mr. Oliver?”
    “There’s also not a me and Mr. Oliver. By the way, his name is Quinn.”
    “Quinn? So you’re on a first-name basis, then?”
    Groaning inwardly, Piper hung the clipboard back on the wall and leveled her eyes with the increasingly interested Margo. “We went on a date, yes.”
    “I know.”
    “Jessica, right?”
    “Of course. We were both wondering if you used any of your famous Piper-isms on him.”
    Piper gave her a pointed look. “Piper-isms?”
    “Yeah, those silly words you use in place of real ones. Like mother of chocolate instead of—”
    Piper’s hand shot up. “Please don’t use that language. I don’t like it.”
    Margo chuckled. “I know. But that’s what I mean. Piper-ism. ”
    She only shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to curse. It’s a matter of preference, really. Those words seem so cold and mean.”
    “And you’re not either?”
    Piper almost laughed. Sure, she wasn’t mean, but she wasn’t so sure about the cold part. She could admit that she was detached. But her detachment had a purpose. And she just didn’t like the sound of those nasty words. Her mother and father had taught her better than that.
    “Now about that date…”
    When Margo only stared at Piper expectantly, Piper grumbled under her breath. “What about it? It was only a date.”
    “No second date, then?”
    “No. Not yet. Not officially, anyway.”
    Margo snickered and busied herself with a tray of new tools. “Not yet,” she mumbled under her breath.
    Piper’s eyes narrowed. Was that sarcasm she heard? She really was better at dealing with dead people. They didn’t form opinions and didn’t judge, not that Margo was judging her. Piper didn’t understand other people’s interest in her dating life, even though everyone and their brother seemed to mention something about it when she ran errands. It was like she was under some sort of an invisible microscope, everyone waiting for her to take that plunge. Sorry to disappoint , she’d always have to say; Piper didn’t do the plunge.
    “Well?” Margo’s voice snapped Piper back to attention. “Are there any pointers you can get me about working on someone you knew?”
    Piper shook her head, curious as to the quick changing subject matter. Not that she minded. “Besides it being hard?”
    “How did you deal with it?”
    “The first time, while hard, was actually easier for me because Mr. St. James’s family didn’t want anything to do with the funeral.”
    “What? Why?”
    “Dad loved him, but apparently his family did not.”
    “But…” The look of concern spreading across Margo’s face was expected. “Why would that be easier? Sounds like it would be harder. I mean, a man creates and raises a family, only to be disrespected in death? That’s freaking crazy.” Margo slapped a hand on the steel table by the wall.
    “One thing you learn as a funeral director is never to judge a family, Margo. They’re each woven differently in time; the next never the same as the last. Not everyone can be as close as yours was.”
    A frown crinkled Margo’s forehead. Her full cheeks deflated. “But even if families aren’t close, they shouldn’t stonewall you if you keel over. I mean, damn. That’s cold.”
    Piper gave a small shake of her head. “Sometimes it’s not all about the living.”
    “Then what the heck it is about?”
    “I’ve seen death every day since I was a child. I’ve seen how it affects the old and the young. It makes you hard, a job like this does. I’ve learned that even