I wasn’t sure Oren was ready to see it all. He probably didn’t even realize what he was asking me to show him.

Once you see things, you can’t unsee them. Ever. Maybe instead of showing Oren a dead person, I could teach him everything I know about funerals and what happens to people when they die. I know tons about all that stuff.

Then Oren wouldn’t have to get all freaked out about what he could never unsee. I wanted to help him, not make things worse. I had a feeling that being a good funeral director sometimes meant protecting people from what they didn’t realize would hurt them.

I snuck a look at him as he checked on the peppers. I remembered that his uncle had said Oren had been having nightmares. I wondered if he still was. I didn’t want to be responsible for making him have more.

Maybe he did have a right to know what had happened to his parents at the funeral home. But I could tell him all that. I could even show him almost everything. Like the caskets and even the special room where the bodies are prepared.

Of course, I’d only show him that stuff when there wasn’t a dead person in there.

The peppers were done, the table was set, and I was mixing up more lemonade when Mom and Dad came in from next door. Mom looked at the platter of stuffed peppers in the center of the table and then at me.

“Not me,” I said, pointing at Oren. “I was going to make plain old sandwiches.”

“You did this?” she asked Oren. “It looks amazing!”

“You never told us you were a chef,” Dad added playfully.

Oren shrugged and smiled.

“He used to do a lot of cooking,” I said. “At home with his family.”

There was a sudden silence in the room. One glance at Oren told me I’d screwed up again. I didn’t even know if what I’d said was true—I’d just assumed he had and wanted to be included in the conversation. Ugh, Evie!

Mom cleared her throat. “Well, this looks great. Thank you, Oren.” Then she got a weird look on her face. “Do you mind…I mean…would it be okay if…”

“Diana,” Dad said.

She huffed at him and looked back at Oren. “Would it…could I…would it be okay if I gave you a hug?”

Oren took a deep breath and then nodded. He looked…not quite scared and not exactly weirded out either. But sort of like he wanted the hug but wasn’t sure if he should.

Mom stepped toward him slowly. Like she was hugging a porcupine, she gently put her arms around him. Then, without warning, Oren launched himself against her. He hugged her so hard that she grunted in surprise.

“Oh, honey,” Mom said, her voice cracking as she pulled him in tight. Really tight.

That’s when Oren began to cry. Like, really cry, until I could hear him wailing. I thought I’d have been happy to hear a sound from him, but not like this. It was probably the worst sound I’d ever heard.