WILD OATS by User Page B

one else would ever know him like she did.
    Sure, Haywood cared for him as a friend, she thought. But to Amelia, Jedwin was her life. And she certainly was not going to allow him to fritter it away on useless pursuits. Where in heaven's name could he have been all night?
    Amelia glanced over at Haywood. He was poised, waiting. Just itching for a fight, she thought. But she didn't want to argue about anything today, especially about her son. Things were going to come out favorably with Maimie very soon, and as for Jedwin, she'd deal with him. She always had.
    Deftly she changed the subject.
    "What are you working on?" she asked.
    Haywood was a little disappointed with her lack of spirit this morning. "The damnable peek-a-boo casket that came from Groillers," he answered.
    "Oh!" Amelia's eyes were lit with excitement as she moved closer. "Is that the one James Edwin ordered for Maimie Briggs?"
    Haywood raised an eyebrow and gave Amelia a skeptical look.”Jedwin said you were the one so dang set on getting this casket for Miz Maimie to look at."
    "Well, I think perhaps I did suggest—" Amelia began.
    '“Cause if it had just been Jedwin a-wanting to order it, I'da talked him out of it in a gnat's age."
    Amelia's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Why? I realize that it's expensive, but if our patrons—"
    "It don't have nothing to do with expensive," Haywood interrupted. "I believe as strongly as you do that folks ought to have the kind of funeral that they want, all frills or nary a one. What I don't approve is this kind of useless product being foisted off on the public."
    "It's not useless, it's beautiful. You don't seem to understand, Mr. Puser, that mourning should be a time of beauty. The days when funerals meant somber black crepe and fear are over. We understand, now, that stepping into God's hands should be a peaceful and serene passing."
    Haywood leaned casually against the wall and gave Mrs. Sparrow a long-suffering look. "I read Modern Mortician Magazine, too, Mellie," he said quietly. "And I ain't talking about philosophical differences. I'm talking about the practical. Now look at this thing." He gestured toward the shiny new casket.
    Amelia stepped closer and ran her hand gently along the fine lines of the gleaming dark green painted metal. Already she was imagining how she would speak to Maimie about mint green silk for her funeral drape. It would be both aesthetically perfect and incredibly fashionable. "It's lovely," she told him honestly.
    "Sure enough," Haywood agreed. "The casket is a fine quality. Groillers make some of the best, and the lines and color are pleasing to the eye."
    Amelia's eyes widened, not only for his lack of argument, but for his unexpected appreciation.
    "But what about this?" he asked her. With distinct distaste, Haywood thumped the glass oval in the casket lid.
    Was it possible he didn't know what it was? With a look of exasperation, Amelia spoke to him as if he were a child.
    “Mr. Puser, by having this glass, the family can actually see their loved one."
    Haywood tolerated her condescension. Folding his arms stubbornly, he asked, "So if they want to see, why don't they just have an open casket at the service?"
    "Well, of course they will," Amelia answered. "But this will give them another moment as the body is lowered into the ground." With a quiet but oft-used sigh she added, "I buried my husband, you know. Another moment can be a great deal."
    There was a flicker of some emotion in Puser's eyes that Amelia didn't recognize. Before she could examine it, it was gone.
    "It does mean a great deal," Haywood agreed softly. "But not enough."
    "What do you mean?"
    "You can't seal glass, Mellie," he said. "No matter how hard you try, air will get in. And with air you get decay and you get seepage. That means danger and disease." He shook his head with certainty. "Is one last look at a body whose soul is already gone worth maybe putting cholera or typhoid in some farmer's well