Two for the Dough Read Online Free PDF

while she unbuttoned her coat. She caught Spiro’s eye, and Spiro did his official undertaker nod of greeting. The young woman nodded back.
    “Looks like she’s interested in you,” Grandma said to Spiro.
    Spiro smiled, showing prominent incisors and lowers crooked enough to give an orthodontist wet dreams. “A lot of women are interested in me. I’m a pretty good catch.” He spread his arms wide. “This will all be mine someday.”
    “I guess I never looked at you in that light,” Grandma said. “I suppose you could support a woman in fine style.”
    “I’m thinking of expanding,” he said. “Maybe franchising the name.”
    “Did you hear that?” Grandma said to me. “Isn’t it nice to find a young man with ambition.”
    If this went on much longer I was going to ralph on Spiro’s suit. “We’re here to see Danny Gunzer,” I told Spiro. “Nice talking to you, but we should be running along before the K of C takes up all the good seats.”
    “I understand perfectly. Mr. Gunzer is in the green room.”
    The green room used to be the parlor. It should have been one of the better rooms, but Stiva had painted it a bilious green and had installed overhead lighting bright enough to illuminate a football field.
    “I hate that green room,” Grandma Mazur said, hustling after me. “Every wrinkle shows in that room what with all those overhead lights. This is what it comes to when you let Walter Dumbowski do the electric. Them Dumbowski brothers don’t know nothing. I tell you, if Stiva tries to lay me out in the green room you just take me home. I’d just as leave be put out on the curb for Thursday trash pickup. If you’re anybody at all, you get one of the new rooms in the back with the wood paneling. Everybody knows that.”
    Betty Szajack and her sister were standing at the open casket. Mrs. Goodman, Mrs. Gennaro, old Mrs. Ciak, and her daughter were already seated. Grandma Mazur rushed forward and put her purse on a folding chair in the second row. Her place secured, she wobbled up to Betty Szajack and made her condolences while I worked the back of the room. I learned that Gail Lazar was pregnant, that Barkalowski’s deli was cited by the health department, and that Biggy Zaremba was arrested for indecent exposure. But I didn’t learn anything about Kenny Mancuso.
    I meandered through the crowd, sweating under my flannel shirt and turtleneck, with visions of my damp hair steaming as it frizzed out to maximum volume. By the time I got to Grandma Mazur I was panting like a dog.
    “Just look at this tie,” she said, standing over the casket, eyes glued to Gunzer. “It’s got little horse heads on it. If this don’t beat all. Almost makes me wish I was a man so I could be laid out with a tie like this.”
    Bodies shuffled at the back of the room and conversation ceased as the K of C made its appearance. The men moved forward two by two, and Grandma Mazur went up on tiptoe, pivoting on her patent-leather spikes to get a good look. Her heel caught in the carpet and Grandma Mazur pitched back, her body board stiff.
    She smacked into the casket before I could get to her, flailing with her arms for support, finally finding purchase on a wire stand supporting a large milk-glass vase of gladioli. The stand held, but the vase tipped out, crashing down onto Danny Gunzer, clonking him square in the forehead. Water sloshed into Gunzer’s ears and dripped off his chin, and gladioli settled onto Gunzer’s charcoal gray suit in colorful confusion. Everyone stared in speechless horror, half expecting Gunzer to jump up and shriek, but Gunzer didn’t do anything.
    Grandma Mazur was the only one not frozen to the floor. She righted herself and adjusted her dress. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing he’s dead,” she said. “This way no harm’s done.”
    “No harm? No harm? ” Gunzer’s widow yelled, wild-eyed. “Look at his tie. His tie is ruined. I paid extra for that tie.”
    I mumbled apologies to