When he first arrived at the Cemetery, Kallen had said this was the last dinner he would make for Old Saman.
With Derius's arrival, it really had become the last dinner.
Kallen had not deliberately made a lavish spread: chicken braised with edamame, kung pao chicken, fish-fragrant eggplant, and a mixed soup.
Simple fare, three dishes and a soup.
The small table was set up on the steps outside, and Alfred laid out the stools, bowls, and chopsticks.
Alfred had long since started using chopsticks with Kallen. Since that hot pot meal, Old Saman had gradually grown used to them too.
The three sat around the small table, eating quietly. No one spoke.
But the atmosphere at the table was not particularly heavy, much less sorrowful. One side ran a Funeral Society, the other managed a Cemetery. They had long since learned to take life and death in stride.
After the meal, Old Saman stood and picked up his broom, preparing to go sweep his Cemetery.
Alfred reminded him, "I'll come pick you up tomorrow morning and take you back to the Funeral Society for your makeup."
"Mm, all right."
Old Saman nodded, his figure disappearing into the depths of the Cemetery ahead.
Alfred got up and cleared away the dishes, put the table and chairs back, then took a small broom and swept outside. Once he was finished, he walked over to Kallen.
"Let's head back." Kallen walked to the car and got into the passenger seat.
Alfred got in and started the car. "Young Master, I've made all the arrangements for the funeral. Rest assured."
"There's nothing to worry about."
Generally, if ten was a perfect score for a task entrusted to Alfred, he could deliver a twelve.
They returned to the Funeral Society at nine that evening.