Rachel put the Sunday paper down after reading Ian McKenzie’s obituary. “Howard, what kind of funeral do you want?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I want to know what your last wish is.”
Howard grinned. “Put my ashes in a clear container on a table in front of everybody. I want to see who weeps and who laughs over my death before you drop me in that cold ground.”
“Howard, be serious for once.”
“I am serious. Keep an eye on Reuben, though. He said he’s going to piss on my grave. Don’t let him get the last laugh on me.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I want to know what your last wish is.”
Howard grinned. “Put my ashes in a clear container on a table in front of everybody. I want to see who weeps and who laughs over my death before you drop me in that cold ground.”
“Howard, be serious for once.”
“I am serious. Keep an eye on Reuben, though. He said he’s going to piss on my grave. Don’t let him get the last laugh on me.”
