"On the eve of the funeral"

The funeral is nothing, really. An inconsequential event, just a neighbor who was caught in a thunderstorm on a golf course. If I was in a better mood, I might choose a different pair of slacks to wear; but I've decided on the brown gabardine ones, the ones that show off my calves. Stanley, my husband, always tells me that these slacks make me look fat, but I know better. He is jealous of the way they make me look, the way his buddies stare at me when we go to the Lion's Club dances. He always tells me I look fat when he is jealous. I want to tell him to get a new line, but I never do. A man needs his line to feel like he has a hold on this world.

Stanley and Ed Thompson left town yesterday for a big trip to the casinos down Jefferson way. Funny how things get lonely without him, even though I blister when he's around. There are times that I'd rather have someone here than be alone, on my own. And now I have to go to this damned funeral. Elmer Dodd's funeral! Just some neighbor. What the hell was Elmer thinking when he went out on the green with lightening blasting around? Men, think they know everything! That's something Stanley would do for sure, no telling him.

Elmer Dodd! What's Martha Anne going to do now? They were already taking the Medicare, and she's got hypertension. I wonder if she'll keep the house? I wonder if she'll have to go live with her daughter over in Kitchard? Not me! If something happens to Stanley you won't see me simpering out to Beth's house, not with her kids and husband the way they are. I think I could keep the house, think it would work.

Funny, with Stanley out of the picture for the weekend, a long weekend at that, gets me thinking about how hard things might be around here without him. Just yesterday something was going on with the stove. It turned on when I went to preheat it for my pot roast, but then it cut off. Then it came back on. Darned thing did that twice more. I called Stanley's hotel room but he was out gambling, or maybe playing a round or two himself, an homage to old Elmer. HAHA.

You know, it burns me just a bit knowing he's down there with his buddy and I'm here having to attend this funeral alone. No helping it though. It's a bit of a rush deal. Elmer was fairly fried when the bolt hit him, a quickie burial ensues. Stanley was packed and ready, and since we're not close with the Dodds I figured he'd go. Not that I'd ever tell Martha Ann that Stanely is down ways gambling. That just wouldn't be right. No, I'll probably tell her he's out in Oklahoma visiting Beth and her brood for the weekend. Doubt she'll ask about it.

I wonder what she'll wear to the funeral?