Chapters (62)
- Cover
- A PENNY
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- A Sample Chapter of Don’t Take Any Wooden Nickels
- About the Author
- Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark
- About the Publisher
Once there, I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, leaning back against it, my knees trembling so badly that I could hardly stand. Quickly, I removed the paintbrush and the pad of papers from my pockets and, as quietly as I could, tucked them behind the radiator next to the paper bag. Later, when I had more time, I would examine both items more closely. For now, I had no choice but to pull myself together and get ready for the wake.
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Three
We reached the funeral home at eight o’clock. The parking lot was so full we had to park on the street. On the way over, Nick told me proudly of some of the people who had already come, including a congressman, one minor TV star, and a famous clothing designer.
Once we were inside, Nick went off without me, and I hesitated in the front hall. I still hadn’t gotten a handle on my fright back at the house, and I took a moment to gather my wits about me. The problem was that I was going from one trauma to another: Since Bryan’s death, I had managed to avoid funerals and funeral homes. Now, standing here, the smells and sounds of the place assaulted me, and I felt my lungs growing tight, my head suddenly dizzy.
“You don’t look so good.”
I turned to see Carlos, strikingly handsome in his little suit and tie, his hair slicked straight back with some sort of shiny gel. He was standing in front of me, a worried expression on his face.
“I don’t feel so good,” I said lamely, wishing I could get some control over myself. Without speaking, I let him lead me around the corner, away from the crowd, to a nearby couch.
“On TV, they put their head between their legs,” he said, and so I sat and leaned forward, suppressing a smile even as I felt my heart pounding wildly out of control. A moment later, there was a small hand on my back, and I sat up, accepting the cup of water that Carlos held out for me.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a sip. I closed my eyes and prayed for peace. I thought of the Bible verse Eli gave to me, and I repeated it to myself now. Within moments, I felt the calming of my heart, the amazing stillness that only the Holy Spirit can provide.
“I think I’ll be okay,” I said finally to Carlos, who was still looking at me with concern. “Thank you for your kindness.” He nodded and sat back on the couch next to me, swinging his legs in front of him. “So how’s it going?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“I’m okay now. When we first got here, they were fighting over whether to have the casket open or closed. That wasn’t too cool.”
“Did you see your grandfather’s body?”