“No.” I shrugged. “Just that she was ninety-four.”

I stood there for a while, leaning against the door frame. Nate swiveled his chair and looked at me. “Shouldn’t you be outside with your friend?”

“He’s not my friend.” I pointed toward the window and made a face. “But he’s happy out there weeding.”

Nate snorted. He knows how much I hate weeding. He probably hates it just as much. “You shouldn’t make him do all your work, you know, whether he’s your friend or not.”

“He likes it!” I protested. “It was his idea!” Well, sort of.

“How’s he doing, anyway?” my brother asked as he took a sip of his lemonade.

“Better. But still…” I shrugged.

Nate nodded. “So brutal for him. It’s nice that you’re hanging out with him,” he said, adding, “even though you’re making him do your chores.”

“Not all of them!”

He turned back to his computer and pulled up the funeral notices, scrolling through them until he found the one for Oren’s parents. He read it and shook his head. “That really sucks.”

“I know.”

Nate swiveled back toward me. “You should go out there.”

I glanced out the window. Oren was kneeling and hunched over, tugging at a big dandelion. He didn’t look unhappy. “In a minute.”

Nate finished his lemonade, got up and came toward the door, handing me his glass. “I’m going to grab a shower. By the time I get out, you’d better be back out there.”

“Okay, Dad,” I said, rolling my eyes.

After Nate left, I dropped into his chair and read Oren’s parents’ funeral announcement. I’d seen it before, but now that I was getting to know Oren, it was more meaningful. They weren’t just his parents—they were real people. They’d had jobs and loved to travel. They’d been his family and now they were gone.

Not wanting to get all emotional, I went back to the list of old notices—people I didn’t know at all. They were arranged by last name, and some were really old—Dad never deleted them in case family members wanted to look up the records later.

I read a few, losing track of time. Some were notices of funerals I’d attended in the last year. But most were old records. One in particular, from several years ago, was very interesting. I tucked the information away in my brain for later.

“EVIE!” Nate barked when he came into his room, wrapped in a towel, his hair wet and messy from the shower.

“I’m going!” I jumped up and ran out of his room. Stopping in the kitchen, I added some fresh ice to the two glasses of lemonade and took them outside.

By this time the wheelbarrow was full, and Oren had moved around to the side of the house where Mom’s herb garden was. Good, because that needed weeding too.

He wasn’t working though. He was sitting on the grass, staring at the funeral home. There wasn’t much to look at—Mom was inside, probably meeting with the family or getting ready to. And Dad had left with Syd in the hearse and would probably be a while. I hoped so—I didn’t really want Oren to have to see Dad and Syd bringing a body into the funeral home. They were always wrapped up in sheets or a special plastic bag, and Dad and Syd were always very respectful, but even if you were used to it, like I was, it could be weird to see, knowing what was in there. For someone not used to it, it would probably be pretty scary.