A Catered Birthday Party by Isis Crawford Read Free Book Online

such activities. But they loved it, so what could he do?
    “Of course, she had a fit when you put cumin in the beef stew,” Bernie pointed out.
    Sean rose to her defense. “She was a good woman.”
    “We never said she wasn’t,” Libby and Bernie said simultaneously.
    “She loved you both.”
    “We know,” Libby said.
    “She was just a little bit conservative,” Sean observed.
    Everyone fell silent. But a moment later Clyde brought up Annabel Colbert’s funeral and they were off and running again.

Chapter 5
    L ibby reflected that given Annabel Colbert’s social standing her funeral was extremely modest by any standards. Marvin had told her that last night when he’d dropped by to retrieve his gloves. He’d said he’d heard that her husband had chosen the cheapest route possible. But it was one thing to hear it and another thing to see it.
    The service itself was a graveside affair that took place in the Oakwood Cemetery, which was over in the old part of the town. Even though it had once been the final resting site of the Longely elite, these days anyone who was anyone was buried in the Mission Cemetery over in Pine Haven.
    Although it was never explicitly stated, it was common knowledge that the Oakwood Cemetery was now reserved for the middle and lower-middle classes. It seemed to Libby that Annabel Colbert, a woman who practiced the art of social climbing in all its myriad forms, would have been extremely unhappy if she had known where she was being laid to rest. In fact, she would have considered it a direct slap in the face by her husband, which was probably what he had intended.
    There had been no obituary in either the local paper or the New York Times , another glaring omission by her husband. This was probably why there were a small number of people attending her funeral—that and the fact that she was an unpleasant person, although that never stopped people from showing up if the unpleasant person was sufficiently financially well endowed. In any case, Annabel would have been furious.
    She would have wanted hordes of people pouring out of black limos, she would have wanted hundreds of roses covering her coffin, she would have wanted to be the center of attention at her last biggest event, but that’s not what she got. No indeedy. The only people in attendance were the minister, the people who had been at the dinner Bernie and Libby had catered, their dogs, and Bernie and Libby themselves.
    Richard had dressed Trudy in a little black shrug and a matching black leather collar for the occasion. Melissa’s and Joyce’s dogs were also wearing black, while Bree’s dog, Rudolph, was wearing sunglasses, a biker’s hat, and a small black leather jacket with chains. Bree, on the other hand, was dressed in her usual pink Chanel except for the addition of the huge fuchsia Prada bag slung over her shoulder, which Bernie decided was almost worth killing for.
    “I know Rudolph looks a little distingué in his leathers, but Annabel loved this outfit, so I thought seeing it would give her a lift wherever she is,” Bree confided to Bernie and Libby as they trooped up to the grave site together.
    She’d looked slightly surprised to see them when she’d pulled up behind Libby and Bernie’s van, but so far she hadn’t commented on their being there, which Bernie thought was a good thing. It meant that she didn’t disapprove of their presence at the funeral. There was really no reason that she should, but with Bree you never knew.
    The day was overcast. Even though this February had been atypically mild up till now, it was more than cold enough for Libby, who wound her scarf more tightly around her neck to ward off the chill. During the spring, summer, and fall, the old oaks and trembling aspens that dotted the landscape lent shade and color to the cemetery, but in midwinter their bare branches gave the place a melancholy air. But then maybe that was the point.
    “I didn’t know you were coming,” Bree