Vivacious ~ lively in temper, conduct, or spirit : sprightly
Source: Merriam-Webster Dictionary
I suppose sometimes I can be vivacious but I’m not sure about Valeda Strong. How does one effectively channel vivaciousness when planning funerals?
Valeda Strong never planned on being a funeral planner. But when life throws her a curve, Valeda realizes any job is better than no job at all. When she takes on a contract to plan Global Tech-Cast funerals will this funeral planner find herself in need of a funeral planner of her own?
One tenacious funeral planner, one sexy Asian man, and a whole lot of trouble. Find out how it all comes together in The Funeral Planner.
“I’m Adam,” he said.
“Uh huh,” I turned my attention back to the wake trying to take my mind off the hot guy beside me who seemed to be trying to impress me with his language skills. Silently I was wishing him away, even though I wanted him to stay. I am not a Funeral Betty. He didn’t go away. In fact he kept standing there staring at me and making me nervous until I put my attention back on him.
“What?” I nearly snapped.
“Funeral planner,” he looked at me intently. “Did you always know you wanted to do that?”
No, I didn’t know I always wanted to do it. Heck, I’m not sure I want to do it now, but it pays my bills. You die I eat, but I keep that off my business cards because it would be tasteless—and probably read the wrong way making people think I’m eating dead people instead of just seeing dead people. Well, I do see dead people. I see them when I have to go have the mortician take a picture and make the face match. I see them at the open casket. I see them before they go into the grave, and sometimes, when a family member starts fighting and knocks the casket over and the body spills on to the wet grass I see that they’re lifted back into their resting box. No, I didn’t help put the man in the box, but you know, I supervised. That has to count for something.
Oh yes, planning a funeral in some ways is a lot like planning a wedding. You have grief, like the grief of a mother who thinks the hussy marrying her son is too much of a whore for her good boy. You have the drunk who just seems to guzzle it all down. There are the people who really just come for the food, and then those who come for the sex. There are even those people who seem to be perfectly happy the deceased person is no longer living and breathing. Emotions are definitely plentiful, and vastly different depending on the attendee and just what they actually thought about the deceased. Yes, my job is interesting to say the least.
Instead of saying all that I kept a stoic look on my face and said. “It’s my job to help loved ones find a suitable final resting place. It’s important for the deceased to rest peacefully in a place their loved ones believe would be best for them.”
“Hell, they’re dead what do they care where they rest?”
That shocked me so of course it made me look at him and I didn’t even realize my mouth was gaping open until he said, “just waiting for my tongue huh?” I shut my mouth quick and glared at him.
“Go socialize with your friends. I have things to tend to here.”
He shrugged. “I’m really a nice guy. If you knock the snob off your shoulder you could see that.”
Oh that got my cookies in a bind because I am not a snob. “Look, I’m working. This is serious. People are dead and people are hurting.”
He laughed softly. “There’s only one person dead right now. Catch me in a couple months and we may have two.”