Chapter One| Forks' Funeral Home and Crematorium
Forks' Funeral Home and Crematorium had been around since the founding of the town (August 7th, 1945).
Due to the funeral home being built in the late 1940's there wasn't much about it which could be considered modern. It had the same wallpaper, light fixtures, carpet, and wood flooring. The same oak front door with a beautiful stained-glass window, said door glass window, ended up depicting a scene of the forest. There were hooks in the ceiling of the porch, for someone to put up hanging flowerpots during the spring and summer. There was a wooden handmade porch swing that was on the left side of the porch, and the first floor of the house had a sign hanging next to the front oak door of all the official staff when it came to their names and professions. I was certain that stupid sign would have my name there along with my profession.
Parking in front of the separate garage building, I barely paid attention to the paneled two-car garage and instead turned and looked at the white paneled two-story house, which had been built in a Victorian Era style. The steep, gabled deep green shingled roofs, along with the round towers that were on either end of the front side of the house. The towers, turrets and dormers were just another reminder that I was entering a funeral home that styled itself like other funeral homes in the past.
There was a wooden sign that was in front of the house with the name of the funeral home painted across it in perfect lettering, and there were two lights that were on either side of the sign to light it up during the night. I could only hope it automatically turned on and off and I didn't have to go down there to turn the lights on/off manually.
Moving towards the front porch of the funeral home, I could only hope I wouldn't be bombarded with the staff. I knew there was only one other person who lived here and that happened to the funeral home director. She was the past pathologist's wife and had been more than excited when she learnt I had gotten my pathologist license. She offered me the job and I took it, knowing I needed the experience; besides I wasn't planning on staying here for the rest of my life.
The front door opened before I could do so, and I was soon welcomed with the funeral director, Mrs. Holloway. She was in her late sixties and was dressed in bright colors, a cheerful dress suit–the jacket was a cheerful yellow, while the blouse underneath was a light yellow, and the skirt matched the jacket. She had on white flats and her crinkled features became even more thrilled when she saw me. I wouldn't be surprised if she was thinking I looked just like my late father.
"Miss Swan, welcome. You're right on time. Did you have the chance to visit our cemetery before you came?" Mrs. Holloway probed; her voice inquisitive obviously but she wasn't pushing me to tell her I had done just that.
"Yes, ma'am. I did. I wanted to visit my father's grave. You can call me Bella if you want, partly because we're coworkers and we live here together."
Mrs. Holloway nodded, before she remarked, "then you can call me Daisy. I'm glad that you decided to come and work here. I know that you've come a long way from Phoenix. Transitioning from a big city to a small town must be quite an experience."
"Oh! Mind my manners, please come in! This is as much as my home as it will be yours. I can give you a tour around the place," Daisy commanded, moving out of the way and allowing me to enter the long thin front foyer of the house.
The front foyer of the house had eggshell-colored walls, a high ceiling with a slanted back ceiling, an intricate slightly curved staircase that was expensive old cherry wood and a railing that had carved flowers and vines throughout the railing along with wooden floorboards that creaked a little bit but not too much. A large stained-glass window was on the staircase platform, which depicted Lake Pleasant in its natural glory. The staircase had carpeted steps, and they were worn out but actually in pretty good shape due to its age. The back wall of the foyer had a cherry wood door with a small clear window at the top of the door, and I was certain it happened to be led into the kitchen, which was used for the mourners whenever they needed to store their food if they held the reception here instead of somewhere else. To the right of the foyer there were the French doors in the same wood as the rest of the wood in the foyer that led into the parlor room, which had been turned into the mourning room, where there would be the casket and multiple chairs for the mourners to sit in. To the left of the foyer there was the dining room. A large antique mirror was against the wall where the staircase was, a golden gilded frame and clear glass that was in great condition. A chandelier was in the middle of the ceiling, with teardrop diamonds that fell from the arms of the chandelier. There were plants that happened to be here and there, enough to add character but not enough that it was overwhelming.
"This is the foyer, at the end of the foyer there is the kitchen and attached to the kitchen happens to be the bathroom down here. There is the basement door that is on the other side of the kitchen, which leads down to where the morgue is along with an attached crematory, for those who prefer to be cremated instead of buried," Daisy informed me, leading me down the hallway and towards the kitchen, moving swiftly and naturally, since this was her home.
The kitchen was still the same style as the rest of the house, but a little more modern. There was clear glass windowed upper cabinets in a stained oak. A farmhouse kitchen sink, deep and more than prepared to hold a lot of pans and plates. There wasn't a dishwasher, so everything would need to be cleaned through the sink. The stove and the fridge were from the late 80's, but seemed as though they were in working condition. There was a good amount of kitchen counters, they were the same wood as the upper cabinets and the countertops were wood too. A round antique kitchen table was nestled in the corner of the room, smaller and more intimate and had antique chairs that were around them (only four of them). There was a small potted plant that was in the middle of the kitchen table, silk flowers since they would last and wouldn't need to be replaced. The walls were the same color as the foyer of the house, but the floors were black and white checkered tiles. An antique golden light fixture was in the middle of the ceiling, and there was a bay window that looked out to the backyard of the house.
The bathroom wasn't too decorative, it was the generic half bathroom where there was the sink and the toilet. There were old school paintings that were above the toilet and on the wall where the door was. The wallpaper was old school, and outdated. It was the bare minimum with the light fixture above the square mirror which would make anyone look sickly. It was basically there for the mourners and not for the people who lived in the funeral home.
Tears seemed to gather in Daisy's eyes when she went over to the other side of the kitchen and opened it after she unlocked it. She handed it to me, allowing me to know it was a skeleton key, and I wouldn't have to worry about losing it since she had it chained around her neck. She said she didn't need it anymore, since Mr. Holloway didn't need it anymore, and she didn't want to be down in the morgue any more than she had to.
The light switch was on the right side of the staircase, and as she flicked on the light, I could tell the lights had been changed to bright fluorescent square light fixtures, like the ones you would find in a hospital or in a school. The walls of the morgue were the actual brick foundation of the house, and there were the morgue freezers, three rows with three compartments each. There was the autopsy/morgue table and the equipment in their proper storages. In the back part of the room behind another door there was the crematorium for the respectable family members to cremate their family members and or loved ones. It was quite small, overall, but I could find no faults of where I would spend the majority of my time. It had all the components I needed.
Heading back upstairs, we merely peeked into the dining room.
The wallpaper was original, with a white background and almond blossoms as the pattern. It reminded me of the Van Gough painting, and the flooring was the same wood as the rest of the first floor (other than the kitchen and the half bathroom). The black wrought iron chandelier held simple light bulbs at the end of the arms of the chandelier. The dining table could fit fifteen people and happened to be the original dining table and dining table chairs, ones that had been specifically picked out when the house was built, since it was of the same era as the inspired era of the house. A large clear vase was in the middle of the table with small flower branches, ones that must have come from the garden in the backyard, they were merely generic white flowers.
Going upstairs, I barely paid attention to the hallway, since it was almost the exact same as the foyer of the house and instead noticed there were three bedrooms and two bathrooms. The first bedroom we passed by happened to belong to Daisy, while the next bedroom was a guest room/and or third bedroom for a third fellow coworker. The last bedroom happened to be mine, and it was at the end of the hallway. I opened it and almost widened my eyes at the beauty of the bedroom.
The wallpaper was similar to the wallpaper in the dining room, but instead of almond blossoms they happened to be branches with leaves (a soft green). The flooring was carpet, just like the carpet which was on the staircase. A simple full-size bed with a Victorian four poster bed frame and white curtains that were tied against each post. They were tied together with a soft green ribbon to keep them open until you decided you wanted to close them around the bed. There were paintings that were on the walls of famous landscapes throughout Europe instead of here in America. A vanity table that matched the bed frame, which was a whitewashed wood, was in the corner of the west wall and a golden gilded mirror was above the vanity table. There were perfume bottles scattered throughout the surface of the vanity table, most likely they were from the original female owner of the house, and I wouldn't be allowed to use them, they were merely there for display. A soft green Sette was underneath the bay window that looked out to the side of the house, thankfully it wasn't in the direction of where the cemetery was. I didn't want to think about Charlie all the time when I lived here.
"It's beautiful. Thank you for letting me have this one," I whispered, not wanting to take away the peacefulness of the serenity in the room.
I felt Daisy reach her hand out and squeeze mine before gently telling me she couldn't have children (something that I could relate to, I was infertile myself), so she wanted me to have the bedroom her child would have lived in.
I was surprised she so easily told me this, knowing this was a private manner.
I wouldn't tell anyone I was infertile, that was something just for me.
My past boyfriends never had to worry about impregnating me, and unless I had seen myself marrying them (which I never did), I wouldn't tell them. They were merely here and there when it came to the multiple stages of my life.
I had a bathroom that was attached to my bedroom, with a slanted peaked ceiling, and white shiplap. There was a clawfoot bathtub with silver legs, along with an older model of a toilet and sink. A similar mirror as the one in the bedroom was hanging above the sink and a unique light fixture was above the mirror. There was a black curtain rod over the simple stain glass (rainbow colors) window with white cotton curtains framing either side of the window. A fuzzy white bath rug was sitting in front of the clawfoot bathtub. A shower head was attached to the clawfoot so I could wash my hair without having to worry about standing up, and the fixtures of the bathtub were the same silver as the legs of the bathtub. It was all I could find myself appreciating throughout the times I would be taking my warm bubble baths and trying to relax from my long hours.
Going back outside, I went over to where my car was before I pulled out my two bags to bring up to my bedroom. There wasn't a closet in the bedroom, and I would have to put it into the standing wardrobe that came with the bedroom set. I wasn't that much of a fashion icon or cared to look up expensive fashion trends that were currently happening so I knew I would wear plain and simple clothes, other than the nice dress clothes I would wear whenever there would be a funeral happening.
Daisy was waiting for me patiently after I put my things away downstairs, smiling at me with that crinkled sink and happiness brimming throughout her. It must have been lonely being a recent widow and the house didn't feel the same. She could have had more life around her when her husband was alive, but now that he was gone it really felt more like a funeral home than her normal home. I could only hope I could keep that smile upon her face. She deserved to have this happiness once again.
"I was wondering if you would like to have some tea. There is a coffee machine also, but I prefer tea. I can make you a cup of coffee if you want," Daisy suggested, and I smiled back at her.
I had been a coffee person in the past but within the last few months I had drifted towards tea instead. I didn't have a preferred tea; I wasn't picky when it came to things like that. I also had gorged myself on coffee throughout medical school, and my teeth had become so stained I had become so self-conscious about my teeth becoming dark.
"Of course, I don't have a specific type of tea I like, so you don't have to worry about it."
We left the kitchen door open, partly to make sure it wouldn't feel too claustrophobic within the said room. Another being, we weren't expecting anyone. I would meet the rest of the staff tomorrow, and honestly the only people I would meet would be the makeup artist along with the secretary.
It was a small staff, there weren't too many deaths which happened in this small town enough for there to be a larger staff. It wasn't anywhere near the large number of staff that happened to be at my old funeral home, Whitney & Murphy Funeral Home. Said funeral home had been around for over a hundred years in Phoenix.
Sitting down at the round kitchen table, I observed Daisy as she moved around the kitchen with an ease to her. I noted how her clothes were the brightest colors in the whole house. She hummed as she made the tea, and I could tell it was an old Christian Hymn. I wasn't religious but I wasn't against becoming religious in the future. I just didn't experience anything in which I wanted to become religious. She had been obviously raised in a church and probably did Sunday School Classes when she was younger. I could tell this from the calmness and tranquility she had.
It wasn't until we were sitting together at the table and drinking our tea that Daisy seemed to remember something. She almost went to facepalm herself before she explained, "I'm sorry but I totally forgot to show you the office. There isn't a show room here for caskets and urns. We only have a booklet to show the different caskets and urns. The house was built a certain way for the time being and people often went up to Port Angeles or looked through the booklet to decide what they wanted for their loved ones."
"That's fine, Daisy. Today has been a busy day. Let's finish our tea and then you can show me the office," I responded, which in return made her loosen up her shoulders in relief. I hadn't been annoyed at her not telling me everything the moment I had come into the funeral home. She smiled as she finished off her tea, as did I, before we left the kitchen.
Going through the parlor room, Daisy opened a side door and revealed the office.
It was quite cozy even though it was on the smaller side. There was the main desk in the middle of the room with a modern computer, along with a painting behind the desk of the original funeral director and his family, so everyone could see the founders. Off to the side there was another desk, which most likely ended up being for the secretary. I could only hope the woman would be a nice woman and not someone with a stiff upper lip.
I spent the remainder of the day in my bedroom, becoming adjusted to the whole thing. I ended up emailing Renee and Phil, briefly thinking about my little sister who had been born a little after I had graduated high school. She was in her first year of high school and actually had a better childhood and teenhood than I had. Phil was an excellent stepdad and dad for Melanie, and with time Renee had learnt to become a better mother.
Eventually it was time for dinner and I went downstairs to where Daisy was.
My eyes widened at the large amount of homemade food that was on the countertops, ready for me to eat. There was the homemade cornbread, green bean casserole, homemade mashed potatoes, a small meatloaf, and a cherry pie she had made from scratch. There was a brilliant smile on her face, which made her look a little younger than she was. I was certain she had been happy she was able to cook for someone again. I could only hope I didn't gain too much weight due to the heavy calories I would get from her cooking.
Daisy gave me antidotes from the many years she had lived here, thankfully she kept everything in a positive manner. She didn't talk about the families that had lost loved ones throughout the decades she had been the funeral home director. She instead talked about her nieces and nephews and great nieces and nephews that she saw during family reunions. She talked about her wedding to her husband, and how they had gotten married at the courthouse in Port Angeles, and how her husband had been in the military before he had been honorably discharged after he had suffered a pretty bad injury. He had never let that get in the way though.
Bidding goodnight to Daisy when it got pretty late, I had a little bit of insomnia since it was raining quite profusely outside. I almost felt as if I had to grab another pillow and put it over my head and groan at the unfamiliar sounds. That was the good thing about Phoenix, it didn't rain that much in the year and I could sleep easily, the small house I had rented had been so much better than when I had been in medical school (I had a roommate who was a loud snorer, I had to sleep with noise canceling headphones even though I almost missed classes sometimes).
The next morning I brushed my teeth and hair, after washing my hair in the bath. I put on very light makeup that highlighted my features and put my hair into a mid high bun. A light pink silk blouse and white dress pants, along with tan flats finished off my look. I didn't wear any jewelry except for the skeleton key, which really cemented the fact I lived here. The morgue on the other hand would cement me working here once I would receive my first body.
I had just finished eating my light breakfast when the front door of the funeral home opened, revealing both the makeup artist and the secretary coming into the foyer. I could see them from the open kitchen door, and noted how they both were bundled up quite a bit from the freezing temperature outside. One of them was a beautiful black woman with a large, natural afro that had curls which fell a little bit in front of her eyes. The other woman looked as if she was from the La Push Reservation (the Quileutes were the ones who had the reservation), with her rustic skin and long dark hair that cascaded down to half way down her back.
The black woman smiled largely at me as she rushed into the kitchen, while the Quileute woman followed behind her silently. I had barely taken them in once again when the black woman hugged me, before she had told me her name was Penelope. The Quileute woman on the other hand was named Awena, but she was reserved and merely shook my hand professionally. The Quileute woman was the secretary of the funeral home, while Penelope would be my makeup artist.
"It's so nice to meet you. As much as I miss the late Mr. Holloway I'm glad you had decided to come and be our pathologist. I can only hope we can become friends in the future," Penelope informed me, earning a small, nervous smile from me. Another reminder how I wasn't a quite social person and often preferred the company of the dead.
Awena on the other hand merely studied me for a moment, before she seemed to remember something. "You're Billy Black's goddaughter, aren't you?"
Nodding my head, Awena went to say something only for Daisy to come sweeping downstairs in a cotton dress, the skirt falling down to her ankles. It was a periwinkle purple and her hair was pulled into a small bun that rested on the nape of her neck. She smiled and clapped her hands together, her wedding ring gleaming from the sunlight that came from the stained glass window on the front door. She would never take it off, and she would be buried with it.
"I'm so glad that you've met each other. I know it will take some time to get adjusted to each other but I'm certain we will all become friends with each other in the end. We're all family here after all," Daisy announced, as if she was telling us the sky was in fact blue. She was confident in this and I wished I could have her confidence in matters such as social things.
Awena had her lips pressed together before she went into the parlor room, and then into the office. Perhaps she wasn't someone who was very social, which kind of was odd since she was the secretary of the funeral home. Penelope looked and acted as if she would be the secretary instead, but maybe Awena was closed off because I was new and hadn't proved myself. She must have also thought I only got this job because I was the late chief of police's daughter.
"Don't mind Awena. It takes some time for her to get used to new changes. She didn't smile or voluntarily talk to us until a month after she had gotten her job," Penelope assured me, while Daisy went in the direction of where the office was. She might also be going in there to scold Awena for not welcoming me better.
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Eh, I have to admit I'm not the most social person either. I've always kind of preferred bodies over live people anyway. At least the bodies can't talk back," I joked, which in return made Penelope have a conflicted look on her face. She didn't say anything more about Awena, probably because she knew it would be impolite to talk more about someone without their permission.
Excusing myself briefly, I went into the half bathroom and took a deep breath. Softly giving myself a pep talk, I hoped things would be better here than in Phoenix. I didn't want to regret moving here.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Bella has her deer car accident in Chapter 3. I hope you liked the first official chapter.
As always: Twilight doesn't belong to me.
-it'semmynotemma