Or can he?
After the Palmer family leaves to get ready to receive visitors this evening, I’m at my desk checking email when the phone beside me rings. I throw a bemused glance at the two-line display above the numbers. It should read Receptionif the call is forwarded from Molly’s phone, but it doesn’t. It reads Incoming, which means there’s no one at the front desk.
“Taylor, seriously,” I mutter, snatching the receiver off the cradle as it rings again. That boy is walking on thin ice, I swear…
Taking a deep breath, I push aside my irritation and slip into a professional mindset. “Eckert’s Funeral Home, may I help you?”
On the other end of the line I hear soft breathing, then a sniffle. Just what we need today, another death, I think, reaching for a notepad nearby. Some days we don’t get any calls, and some days we’re flooded with them. It looks like today’s going to stay busy.