Page 81 of My Killer Blind Date

‘Excuse us, we’re looking for Margot McKee?’ says Sue.

‘That’s me.’ I step toward them. ‘You’re Zoe’s parents?’ We shake hands. ‘Nice to meet you, Pastor Dawson – or sorry, is it Reverend?’

He gives me a confused smile. ‘Neither. I’m an engineer.’

‘Right. I just thought …’ I shake my head. ‘Never mind.’ Was I completely misremembering what Zoe had told me about them?

‘Well,’ says Tim with a sad smile. ‘Sue and I are so grateful that you contacted us. I hope it’s all right, but we brought a few things to display. Some old things of Zoe’s, as well as some photo albums—’

‘That sounds lovely,’ I say.

‘We could use some help carrying the stuff in, if you don’t mind,’ says Tim. ‘We’re parked out back.’ Then he gestures his wife to a nearby chair. ‘Not you, sweetheart. You sit and rest. Let the young people help me.’

‘Of course.’ I force a smile. ‘Lead the way.’

I can’t help but notice the Coexist bumper sticker on the back of their car, along with some liberal political messaging.

‘This is your car?’ I clarify, because this is not making sense. ‘I thought you were, er, religious.’

‘Oh! Well, we do like to attend the Unitarian Universalist church from time to time. But no, Sue and I have never been particularly religious.’

‘Oh … OK,’ I say, feeling completely disoriented. Where are the controlling, religious parents I thought I was about to meet? As I help carry in the boxes of stuff for display, my mind is racing.

Zoe, why the hell did you lie to me?

*

There are so many people at the memorial, and it’s completely overwhelming. Of course I want everyone to turn out to honor my friend, but after grieving alone for over six months, it’s strange to have other people joining me there, as if my private space has been exploded open.

I take a seat in the front of the parlor to gather myself for the eulogy I’m about to deliver while people find their seats. Someone taps my shoulder – it’s Tim.

‘Sue and I were hoping you could join us handing out programs at the door. We’ll have you on one side of the doors, and we’ll be on the other side to continue receiving the guests.’

I twist in my seat to face him. ‘Of course. I’d be happy to.’

I pass out programs as people filter in. Across from me, Tim is shaking every hand.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ people murmur to him as they enter.

‘Yes, it’s a terrible tragedy,’ he says. ‘Her mother and I are devastated.’

I expected to hate the guy. But I find I can’t. He seems like a genuinely good person.

I have to remind myself that I’m well acquainted with men who put on a good front and are jerks in private. That could one hundred per cent be the case here. But I can’t get over his job. Zoe said he was a pastor, and he’s definitely not. Why would she lie about that?

George comes in with Arjun and envelops me in a hug.

‘Sweetie,’ she whispers as she rocks me back and forth. ‘Oh, sweetie.’

Arjun hugs me next. ‘So sorry, Margot.’

After we pull away, I gesture to the parlor. ‘I’m in front on the left, if you guys want to grab a seat next to me.’

George squeezes my shoulder and they both head inside.

Finally, it’s time to begin, and even though I had prepared some opening remarks, Tim beats me to the front of the room, which I’m actually grateful for. I slide in next to George and lean on her shoulder.

‘Welcome, friends,’ he says. ‘It is a sad day today as we grieve the death of my daughter, Zoe Rose Dawson. Her mother Sue and I consider it a privilege to have raised her, and today, we mourn her passing with heavy hearts. Zoe—’ He stops, presses a finger to his lips, obviously emotional, before recovering. ‘—was a young woman who never did things half-heartedly. I hope that—’ He has to stop a second time. ‘I hope that she’s in a better place. I hope she’s found peace.’