Jules never stepped a foot inside the funeral home again.

     Until the day she had to decide what to do with her mother’s body. Jules and Amy went in the front door. The wide veranda was decorated tastefully, with muted fall flowers—mums and a hay bale. It wouldn’t do to look too festive, but somehow it was just the right amount for a somber place. The tall, bearded man who greeted them looked familiar and Jules shook her head and smiled.

     “Stevie?” Jules said as she held out her hand.

     The big man laughed and nodded. He refused the hand and enveloped her in a bear hug. The last time she had seen Stevie Schaffer, he had been ten years old. He was the youngest of the Schaffer kids and Da...

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