“On that we agree,” Grandpa muttered. “That’s not real food. This is real food.” He gestured toward the hodgepodge of ingredients on his plate.
“That looks like a really weird quiche,” Sebastian said. “I’ve never been a fan of quiche.”
“It’s not quiche! We don’t eat quiche in Shadow Hills.”
“Does the Downtown Development Authority know about that rule?” Sebastian teased. “I think they’re going to have issues if you try to exert that sort of force over the town. They’re only happy if they’re the ones instituting arbitrary rules.”
“Make him stop,” Grandpa groaned. “I’m trying to eat breakfast in peace, for crying out loud.”
I considered making Sebastian move — or at least making the attempt — but it was more fun to watch Grandpa squirm. “I’ll put your order in.” I offered him a serene smile before slipping through the swinging doors, pulling up short when I realized Brad had my cousin Lana trapped by the refrigerator, explaining how aliens were a mass hoax on the population perpetuated by fear-mongering Democrats. Ray guns, however, were apparently really in the works thanks to the Republicans.
“Order,” I called out, tacking the slip onto the wheel before sliding back through the doors. The last thing I wanted was to listen to Brad spout more nonsense.
Sebastian was still talking to Grandpa. “I’m just saying that pre-paying for your funeral is the new thing. Everybody is doing it.”
Grandpa made an exaggerated face. “Why would I possibly want to think about death before it’s necessary? What kind of a crazy person does that?”
“The type who wants to save his family the exorbitant costs of a funeral.”
Grandpa’s frown grew more pronounced. “So, basically you’re saying you gouge people when they’re at a weak moment and if I was any kind of father I would save my children from that by purchasing your most expensive casket right now.”
Sebastian’s grin never wavered. “I would never recommend our most expensive casket. It’s garish. White with a red velvet interior. Only Elvis would like that casket. The rest is mostly true, though. Don’t you want to save your loved ones the added stress of trying to ascertain what sort of accommodations you would want for your final resting place? You could pick everything out yourself and be happy for all eternity.”
“How will I be happy if I’m dead?”
“Maybe happy wasn’t the right word. You’ll be comfortable.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll care about that,” Grandpa said. “Besides, the funeral business is a scam. Throw me in a fire when I’m gone and be done with me. That’s my philosophy.”
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at Sebastian’s horrified expression.
“How is it comfortable to be thrown in a fire?” he asked.
“Again, I don’t care about any of that. Besides, there’s nothing after death. When you’re dead, you’re dead.”
“But ... don’t you want to be reunited with your loved ones in the afterlife?”
Grandpa’s expression was incredulous. “You’ve met my so-called loved ones. Would you want to spend eternity with them? Of course not. I want some peace and quiet, and I’m certain I’ll get it only when I’m dead.”
“But ... .”
“No.” Grandpa shook his head, firm. “All this funeral stuff is nonsense. You’ll never convince me otherwise. When you’re dead, you’re dead.”
“You really are crabby this afternoon,” I noted when Sebastian ceased talking. I took the opportunity to top off their coffee mugs. “You were in a good mood when you woke me up this morning.”
“I wasn’t in a good mood,” Grandpa shot back. “You were late. I’m never in a good mood when someone is late.”
“You were having a good time razzing me,” I countered.
“That’s always fun, but that doesn’t mean I was in a good mood.” Grandpa jutted out his chin and stared at the television over the counter. “Can’t you guys go someplace else and stop bugging me? I’m watching the news.”
When I flicked my eyes to the television, I found he was watching The View. “I thought you hated this show.”
“Of course I hate it. They’re loud-mouthed broads who should shut their holes. I like watching them bicker.”
“Fair enough.” I turned my attention to Sebastian. “Do you want to move to a table?”
He cast one more fond look at Grandpa and then nodded. “Sure. Your grandfather is having a bad morning. It probably has something to do with Hunter, who is already on the move and heading in this direction.”
Grandpa’s only reaction was a slight widening of the eyes. Otherwise, he remained perfectly still. I knew him well enough to know that he was bothered by the news.
“Is that why you’re so crabby?” I asked, refusing to let it go. “Are you going to pull another disappearing act right before Hunter shows up?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Grandpa was haughty now. “If Officer Ryan wants to discuss anything, he knows where to find me.”
“He tried to question you twice and you disappeared both times,” I persisted. “That’s not like you — unless you have something to hide.”
Grandpa practically blew up, something I’d witnessed only when someone ordered poached eggs or he dropped his glasses in the grease trap. “I’m not hiding anything. Why won’t you let it go?” He hopped to his feet and pinned me with a dark look. “I didn’t do anything. The quicker you get that through your head, the better.”
He stomped toward the swinging doors, leaving me to press my lips together and exchange a worried glance with Sebastian. The gregarious funeral home operator looked as worried as I felt. He obviously had no idea the size of the can of worms he would be opening when he decided to tease Grandpa about Hunter.
“And one more thing,” Grandpa said as he was perched between the doors. “This one might be fun to share a drink with, maybe even hang out with from time to time, but he’ll ruin your dating life if you expect to get back with Hunter.”
Now it was my turn to be defensive. “Stop saying that! I don’t want to get back with Hunter. You’re just trying to irritate me.”
“Apparently it runs in the family.” There was some extra flounce in Grandpa’s step as he disappeared into the kitchen.
“He’s totally going to hide, isn’t he?” Sebastian said after a beat.
“Yup.” I bobbed my head. “He’s been doing it for days. I can’t figure out why.”
“Maybe he killed Roy.”
“He didn’t.”
“Maybe you’re in denial about it.”
“I’m not.”
“Really? You’re in denial about Hunter. He’s right about that.”
I didn’t bother to hide my glare. “I’ll check on your breakfast.”
Sebastian sipped his coffee and grinned. “Apparently you get your denial tendencies and your penchant to hide when a conversation gets tough from your grandfather.”