“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” his mother sat down and crossed her legs, “did you sleep in the office or something?”
“No. What makes you think that?”
“Because those are the same clothes that I saw you wearing yesterday.”
Gregory shook his head as he picked out a warm donut from the box and took a bite. Damn, he needed that right now; he was starving.
“No, they’re not. You must be imagining things.”
“Gregory, I am not going senile. Those are the same clothes you were wearing yesterday. What are the clients going to think when they come in and see you look unkempt?”
“I’m not unkempt,” Gregory went to the mirror in the corner and checked, “I don’t look too bad. Nobody would notice at all.”
They were the clothes from the night before, but Gregory wasn’t about to tell his mother that; she would scold him about being too lazy to get fresh clothes out. Gregory had been so tired that he hadn’t noticed when he laid out his clothes.
“If I can notice, the clients will,” Moira said sharply, sipping her coffee. “Why don’t you go home and get changed?”
“I’ve got clients this morning, mom,” Gregory pointed out, munching on his donut. He saw his mother shake his head. “What?”
“How many times have I told you not to talk with your mouth full? You’re dropping sugar all over your suit.”
“Would you stop? I’m a grown man!”
“Who doesn’t notice how he’s dressing in the morning? No wonder you haven’t got a girlfriend; you don’t exactly impress women.”
Gregory sighed. He loved his mother, and she was a great support to him, but she did fuss a bit too much. Then again, he guessed that being a mother and treating your children like they’re little kids probably never went away.
“You’re not going to start on me getting married and having children, are you?”
Moira arched an eyebrow.
“Why would I do that? I haven’t done it before.”
“I’m half-expecting you to start doing it soon. Aunt Dorothy was doing it at Thanksgiving.”
“Aunt Dorothy is a nosy old bitch who hasn’t got anything better to do because her kids don’t speak to her anymore.”
“That’s your sister you’re talking about.”
“So what? It’s true.”
Gregory couldn’t help but laugh at that. Moira did have a point; her sister was one of those people who sucked all the joy out of the room.
Gregory was glad that she hadn’t stayed long after his uncle scolded her for shaming his kid about being gay. There were things people did that made him wonder what they had for breakfast to make them so rigid and judgmental.
“Anyway, you should go and change,” Moira went on, “I’m heading back to change shortly as well. Make sure you put on the suit you wear for funerals or a black suit. Respectful.”
“Respectful?” Gregory frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“We’re going to a funeral.”
“What?”
“Brent’s mother passed away. He’s pretty distraught about it.” Moira gulped her coffee and smacked her lips. “I said we would go along, as well as the other staff, in support of him.”
Now she mentioned it, Gregory vaguely remembered Brent calling into work and saying something about his mother dying and he had to take time off. He had forgotten about it; life had been very busy lately.
“How did she die?”
“Car crash, apparently. The cops think she hit the gas instead of the brake, and she hit a telephone pole mast. No seatbelt, so she went right through the windshield.”
“Shit!”
“I think Brent’s been in a state of shock since. He kept saying that she was a careful driver.”
Either this was a one-off, or Brent’s mother wasn’t as careful in her driving as Brent thought. Gregory wondered if any other factors were involved.
“I’m very sorry about his mother passing, but why do we have to go to the funeral? We didn’t know her.”
“But we know Brent, and it’s only right that we do and pay our respects.”
“Mom…!”
Moira held up a hand to silence his protests.
“Gregory, you are Brent’s boss, and we look after our employees, don’t we? The least we can do is go to the funeral and show our support for him. Brent didn’t have any other family that I’m aware of, so this is going to be hard on his own.”
Her expression said she wasn’t going to take any arguments from him. Gregory knew she was going to make him do it whether he wanted to or not. Sighing, he nodded.
“Okay, fine. I’m guessing you’ve already told Rebecca to rearrange some of my appointments?”
“That was done yesterday.”
“Of course, it was,” Gregory muttered. Even though he was the one in charge, it was like nobody told him anything at all in his own office. “Where is the funeral being held? At the crematorium?”
“No, it’s at Brent’s church in the next town over. It’s Baptist.”
Gregory groaned. Moira shook her head.
“Don’t be like that. Baptists are very nice people.”
“They keep preaching so much about God and how we should be on the righteous path, condemning me to hell because I’m not religious.”
“I think you’re getting your religions mixed up. I’ve met people from that congregation, and they’re really nice people.” Moira tipped her coffee cup at her son. “Now finish your coffee and go get changed. The funeral starts at eleven.”
“How are they going to bury the coffin, though? Isn’t the ground too hard for it?”
“I’m sure that’s been sorted out. Now stop stalling and get a move on.”
Gregory knew better than to argue. Even if he didn’t want to go anywhere near a church. They gave him the creeps.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long. He had a lot to do today.