Last Call Read Online Free

are some things he really enjoys. If it’s an open casket then seeing an actual dead body is really freaky. Joey likes to challenge himself to see how close he can get to the corpse and then imagine it jumping to life and running up the aisle. He also has a good time counting how many Mass cards the person received and peering inside the shiny limousines. Sometimes during the eulogy the funeral director even lets him put the flags on the hoods of the cars out in the parking lot. But most of all, he enjoys meeting the other kids.
    Hayden is pleased that Joey doesn’t cling to him after they view the body. A natural born socializer that kid is. Or a “people person” as they said in Hayden’s days as an insurance salesman. Joey can always land a job in sales if he doesn’t make it as a catcher for the Mets, his dream job.
    And circumstances being what they are at funerals—distant cousins arriving from far-off places and throngs of wriggling children, many who’ve never met before—Joey is immediately accepted. There isn’t any of that competitive schoolyard stuff. The boy simply informs them that his grandfather is a friend of the family and he’s in like Flynn.
    Sometimes Hayden observes Joey playing cards or video games with the other kids and knows that his grandson is going to be just fine after the mess of the divorce settles down, Diana stops fussing over him, and he makes some friends at his new school. After one funeral there was even a game of kickball out in the street. Joey was so excited to be pitching the ball and running bases—something Diana never would have allowed.
    However, if Joey
had
suffered an asthma attack and Diana found out that Hayden had let him play kickball, it’s certain she would have euthanized him faster than you put down a decrepit cat that pees all over expensive new carpets. Hayden keeps the inhaler in his pocket, just in case, though he doesn’t tell Joey this. In truth, Hayden finds it amazing that with all of Diana’s precautions and ministrations Joey hasn’t already voluntarily checked himself into an iron lung for safekeeping.
    As Hayden takes up a position near the casket, pondering the fine line between life and death, a strong arm claps him on the shoulder followed by a voice that would be considered loud for a wake. “Crazy Hady MacBride!”
    Hayden turns to find the last person he expects to see, T. J. Cory, a young colleague from the financial services division of his old Brooklyn office. Effectively concealing his surprise at being discovered, Hayden gives T. J. a hearty greeting and a big smile, successfully disguising the fact that his mind is racing to figure out how Cory is connected to the deceased.
    T. J.’s eyes well up with tears as he tells Hayden, “Your coming to the funeral will mean so much to Mom! You have no idea!”
    Mom?
Dr. Richardson can’t be T. J. Cory’s father. Hayden hadn’t seen T. J.’s name in the paper. On the other hand, T. J.’s first four names were something that sounded more like a Civil War battleground than an insurance salesman. But Hayden manages to stay one step ahead of being found out.
    “Actually, I’m sorry to say I wasn’t aware he was your dad, T. J.,” says Hayden, his brogue swelling and making this confession sound all the more heartfelt.
    “Stepfather,” interjects T. J.
    “Yes, oh, now I see,” says Hayden. He scours his memory in an attempt to recall something pertinent about Richardson from the obituary, but all that comes to mind is the fact that he was a navy veteran. “T. J., I’m here to pay my respects to a fellow member of our armed forces.”
    T. J.’s eyes practically leap out in front of his nose and he puts a beefy arm around Hayden and starts steering him over to a fifty-ish woman in a black dress and black lace gloves just a few feet away. “Mom, Hady here was in the navy with Dad!”
    The small woman looks up at Hayden as if he’s a ghost. “You survived the rescue in the South