They were back in Coop’s cabin. Cooper was at the stove fixing his breakfast. He wore only his flannel loungers. Derrick, sitting atop the butcher block, smiled in appreciation of the muscular torso of his lover. It wasn’t exactly the same as the reaction he had when he was still alive, but it was good to know that even on this side of the veil some things were similar.
The funeral had been yesterday. Derrick had found it interesting to see all the people from the various spheres of his life assembled to send him off. Folks from work, relatives he hadn’t seen for years, or had never even met, old school friends and acquaintances and—of course—his buddies who had been friends of his and Cooper’s. He was surprised at how well regarded he had been. He wished he could have known that before.
