The funeral home was the largest in the city, but the parking lot was congested and things inside was worse. But Hunter tried to see that as an admirable reflection of Henry Yarrow’s influence and his reputation in the city, state and the entire country. She arrived with Tom and Fred. Behind them were Cliff and Wade. Others like Kevin were going home to pick up their wives. Tom was not as philosophical about the traffic and swore when rerouted out of the lot by an attendant to an adjacent church parking lot. “Thanks, pal. You got something in Detroit, maybe?” As he finally parked, he said to Hunter, “I’m sorry. Fred and I can take turns piggybacking you to the door.” “This isn’t just fat, you know,” Fred replied patting his belly. “I got a hernia that needs repairing.” Hunter was already taking out a small zip bag with foldable flats and changing out of her high heels. “That’s okay, guys. I’m fully prepared.” As they walked to the front of the building, Tom noted, “There goes the mayor.”
