The mother stared at Casey and when she looked back at her mother, Casey got choked up. The father wasn’t looking at anything. Casey was going to say something else, but decided against it and came back to the pew. The priest brought the service to an awkward end and invited everyone to stay for coffee and cake. Some people came over to Casey and introduced themselves, telling her how Frank had helped them, how he helped a lot of people, how happy he seemed, how much good he did. I sat there and then realized that Froehmer was gone. You couldn’t blame him. The service had turned into a meeting. Frank would have hated it, I’m sure. I left too.

I walked out to the parking lot, to wait for the procession to the cemetery. Froehmer was standing by a car talking on the phone. I waited for him to finish, then joined him. “I couldn’t take it anymore,” I said.

“They said a lot of nice things.”

“They always say a lot of nice things about the dead. They rarely say the truth.”

“What would you say?”

“I didn’t say anything. I won’t say anything. I learned that from my father. And you.”

Froehmer nodded and leaned against the car. “I’m sorry for you. I’m sorry for Frank,” he said. “He thought he had it figured out.”

“He had it beat,” I said. “He had it.”

“You have to know who’s in charge,” Froehmer said. “You have to respect it. That’s what got him in trouble.”

What did Froehmer know about it? He didn’t know what he was talking about. That’s what people who don’t know anything about addiction say. “I don’t know,” I said. “Something’s not right about it.”

“The whole thing’s not right,” he said. “Some people aren’t made out for this. You are. He should have listened to you. Not the other way. I should have done more. Maybe I could have helped.”

“You did all you could. More than you had to.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said.

“I want to make things right,” I said. “I want to finish the job.”

“It’s taken care of.”

“Let me get the thing like we planned. Let me get it for you.”

“It’s taken care of.”

“You found it?”

“We know where it is,” Froehmer said.

“I can go get it. Let me.”

“Don’t worry about it. Take some time. There will be another job.”

“Let me make things right,” I said.

Froehmer studied my face for a moment, probably seeing how much it meant to me. “Okay,” he said. “You’ve got it. But wait for my go ahead.”

17

THE SISTER