Dead Pan by Gayle Trent

uncle and kissed him on the cheek.
    He smiled. “Hey, there, girl.” His white hair and bright blue eyes reminded me so much of Dad.
    Aunt Nancy, lean and elegant in her brown tweed suit, leaned across Uncle Hal to pat my hand. “Hi, sweetie. Nice of you to be here.”
    I smiled slightly, thinking that even though I’m forty, older relatives still treat me as if I’m in high school. It was like, “Hey, look at Daphne. She did the mature thing by coming to a funeral. What a good girl.” I decided not to let it bother me and instead be grateful someone still thought of me as being young.
    I scanned the rows of pews. I saw Connie, Fran, Carol and Mr. Duncan sitting on the front pew, along with a few other people I didn’t know. Juanita was a couple rows in front of me with a couple other people I recognized from the Save-A-Buck. I saw China York and Myra come in together and sit near the back. There was no sign of Ben, though. Maybe something had happened at work, and he wasn’t going to be able to come after all.
    Members of the church choir began singing “Standing On the Promises.” Fran turned, scanned the crowd and smiled briefly when she spotted me. She turned back around to face the choir.
    I nudged Uncle Hal and whispered an invitation for him and Aunt Nancy to come back to my house for lunch after the funeral.
    He thanked me but said he and Aunt Nancy had “filled up at a Cracker Barrel at about ten-thirty.” He promised they’d be back to see me soon.
    I understood. Uncle Hal didn’t like to linger after emotional events.
    In one way—the literal passing of time—the funeral seemed to be mercifully short. In another way—watching Fred’s family and friends weep into tissues and handkerchiefs—the service seemed to last for hours. Upon concluding the funeral, the preacher invited the congregation to join the family at the Brea Ridge Mausoleum for interment.
    The pall bearers solemnly stood and took their places around the casket. They slowly carried Fred down the aisle and out the front doors. The family followed.
    I wanted desperately to go home. I was obligated to speak with Carol about having Fran help me with Belinda’s party, but this was neither the time nor the place. I’d leave Carol a phone message after I got home.
    Uncle Hal, Aunt Nancy and I walked to the vestibule. I hugged them goodbye and extracted another promise they’d come to visit me soon.
    Ben was standing to the right of the double doors looking angry. I concluded this wasn’t the ideal time to introduce him to my aunt and uncle, so I waited until they’d gone on to the parking lot before approaching Ben.
    “Is everything okay?” I asked. I knew it was a stupid question, but I didn’t want him to realize what bad vibes he was sending out.
    “Your friend Cara Logan got here about the same time I did,” he said. “I didn’t even make it into the sanctuary because I was out here preventing her from taking photos of the casket and the grieving mother.”
    I merely stood there gaping.
    “She finally left when I called 9-1-1. Threats weren’t enough for her. I actually had to make the call.”
    I was still speechless. Ben placed his hand at the small of my back and escorted me to the parking lot.
    “I . . . I’m sorry,” I said at last. “I had no idea Cara could be that heartless.”
    “Well, she can.”
    “I wonder if Dr. Holloway has seen that side of her?”
    “Who knows? Who cares? I just want to put this whole fiasco out of my mind.” He shook his head as if he were truly shaking the thought from his mind. “Pick you up at five o’clock?”
    I smiled. “That’ll be great. Thank you.”
    He kissed my cheek and strode toward his white Jeep. I could tell by his walk that he hadn’t fully succeeded in putting Cara’s callous behavior out of his mind.
    I got in the Mini Cooper and cranked the heat. That rain was cold. It made me think of Sparrow and how much I needed to convince her to trust me and come