A place called Heritage: worth more dead than alive — Part 1

Jeannie smiled and hummed as she applied the finishing touches to her client. She brushed a lock of hair back from the lady’s brow, tucking it into place. “There now, Mrs. Wilson. All done. You look so pretty. Tell me what you think, sweetheart.” She held up a mirror to Mrs. Wilson’s face. Jeannie blinked, then laughed softly. “For goodness’ sake. Old habits.”

Sam leaned against the doorway, smiling. Owner of Heritage Funeral Home, he’d seen this more than once. “You know she can’t answer you, right?” Jeannie rolled her eyes. “Don’t start.” “She looks beautiful,” he said. “The family will be grateful.”

Jeannie headed for the Red Robin Cafe to meet Dale. Her phone buzzed. Ray. Not today. “Jeannie! I know you heard me calling you just now.” Ray walked up behind her. “Ray, honey, I am so glad to see you.” “I’ll be glad to see you catch up and pay what you owe me,” he said. “You know Dale and I are doing the best we can, shug.” “I haven’t seen either of you keep a steady job, Jeannie.” “Ray, I can’t talk now. Dale’s waiting on me. I’ll have it to you by the end of the week.” “I mean it Jeannie! I can’t pay my mortgage on your promises.” “Don’t worry about a thing, hon. I’ll get it to you. I’ll see you later, Ray.”

Ray just shook his head and walked into the barber shop. The old men looked up from their coffee and smirked at him as Ray sat down with a heavy sigh. “Ray, settle something for us. When you make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich you have to use…