Free Masquerade by Eileen Rife Page B

these days anyway? But perhaps it hadn’t all been bad. The contraption had hidden her swollen eyes as she stood quietly weeping at Joe’s graveside. Otherwise, she would’ve had to wear sunglasses. Nonetheless, she’d torn the thing off as soon as she stepped inside the house after the service.
    Her mother ushered Barbara and Amelia into the living room, offered a fragile smile, and
    returned to the kitchen.
                  Celeste set the hairpins on the floor and put her hands out to receive the women. Barbara clasped them while Amelia laid a hand on Celeste’s shoulder. Both ladies sat on folding chairs, one on each side of Celeste. Lorna had come and gone, along with other teachers from the center. Uncle George and Aunt Sheila Tatem left after the service, and since Joe, like her, was an only child, she had no siblings to comfort her.
    A few factory workers huddled on the sofa, speaking in hushed tones while they ate off Chinet plates. The aroma of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and desserts wafted through the small house. But the smells only upset her stomach since they reminded her of Joe. He loved chicken and mashed potatoes.
                  “I’m so sorry.” Barbara rubbed Celeste’s arm.
                  Amelia nodded, but remained silent.
                  The tears flowed freely. Although she gripped a linen handkerchief, she didn’t use it. She reached for a pile of tissues wedged between the seat cushion and arm of the chair. The white hanky trimmed with lace was her mother’s idea, along with the polyester black shift. Even though Joe would have wanted his wife to wear vibrant colors for his funeral, Celeste was too weak and worn to argue the point with her mother. “It’s the proper thing to do,” Mother said that morning before walking out of the bedroom.
                  Celeste blew her nose. “I’ve been asking questions, trying to make sense of all this. Nobody seems to know how the fire started.”
                  “Don’t put yourself through this,” Barbara said.
                  “The report’s not conclusive, but it wouldn’t surprise me if somebody tossed a cigarette butt on the floor.” One of Joe’s coworkers inched forward on the sofa, holding his empty plate. “Smoking’s banned inside the factory, but that hasn’t stopped some of the guys, even with the boss’s threats to fire offenders. I’ll tell you, though, I’ll never forget how quick that pile of magnesium shavings lit up.  Terrible thing.  With wooden  pallets  and 
    other combustible goods in the area, well, it didn’t take long to ignite.”
                  Another worker sighed. “Explode is more like it.”
                  Celeste’s heart beat faster. Her sweet Joe. Had he suffered? “I never even got to see him.”
                  “Oh, you wouldn’t have wanted to, ma’am.” The second worker shook his balding head.
                  “Thank you, gentlemen, for the explanation.” Barbara put her arm around Celeste. “She could use some rest now, I think.”
                  “Uh, sure. You take it easy, Mrs. Tatem.” The first worker rose and shook out his legs, followed by the other three men. “If there’s anything we can do, just let us know. None better than Joe, I’ll tell ya that. Yep, he was the best, ya know?”
                  She did know.
                  The men shuffled toward the kitchen, heads hung low. Her father’s voice emanated from the utility room, then the back door clicked.
                  She squeezed her eyes shut. Thank God they’re gone.
                  “We should be going too.” Barbara stroked Celeste’s hair.
    Celeste grasped Barbara’s hand and held it against her cheek. “Please, don’t go yet.” She searched for Amelia’s hand, finally resting hers within