Mark was beginning to lose hope, his mind racing for a solution, when James spoke up, breaking the growing silence. "Actually… my dad had a formal suit at home," James said hesitantly. "But I don't know if it'll fit Mark. My dad was, well, kinda skinny, and Mark's… you know." He glanced at Mark's broad shoulders and chuckled awkwardly. "He's a bit more… built."
Diane gave a small smile, nodding. "Yeah, Frank always did have a thing for suits. He liked looking sharp."
Jenny, who had been unusually quiet, chimed in from the side. "Didn't Uncle Frank's house get repossessed by the bank? Something about his debts?"
Her words hung in the air like a sudden chill, and James's face fell. He hadn't been prepared for that reminder. His shoulders stiffened as the weight of the reality sunk in.
Debbie, noticing the tension, quickly cleared her throat, stepping in. "The bank gave us a week after the funeral before they take the house," she said softly, but with a strength meant to reassure. "Don't worry, James. Your aunts will handle the debts. You don't have to carry that burden."
Diane nodded along, but Mark didn't miss the brief flicker of doubt in Debbie's eyes. The debt wasn't a small matter, and though she put on a brave face for James, the strain was real.
James, at a loss for words, stared at the floor. Mark, sensing the boy's vulnerability, gave him a firm pat on the back. "Hey, didn't I tell you? You've still got your aunts here for you. You're not in this alone, man."
James blinked, his eyes watery. "Thanks, Mark." He barely managed a whisper, his voice heavy with emotion. Debbie and Diane pulled him into a hug, their warmth surrounding him like a protective shield.
Mark watched the scene unfold, feeling a deep respect for the two women. Despite everything, they were doing their best to keep the family together, to show James that he still had a home. He felt a strange pang of both gratitude and discomfort, realizing just how much family could mean in moments like this.
Jenny sidled up next to Mark, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mom's job isn't even stable," she muttered. "How's she gonna pay that debt?"
Mark gave her a sideways glance. There was a seriousness in her tone that contrasted with the usual teasing he'd come to expect from her. Without prying too much, he simply said, "Your mom's tougher than you think."
Jenny's lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. "Yeah, she is. Guess that's where I get it from."
Mark shot her a playful look. "Is that so? I'll believe it when I see it."
Jenny grinned, her usual sass returning. "Oh, it's there. Maybe you're just not looking close enough." Her voice dropped lower, and she stepped in closer, her breast heavily placed heavily against his arm in a deliberate, teasing move. "Want to take a closer look? Maybe have a little taste and see if it's any good?"
The playful taunt hit its mark, and Mark felt the sudden heat of her proximity. Her breath was warm against his ear, and for a moment, he forgot where they were. His pulse quickened as her words hung between them, loaded with implication.
Jenny's fingers lightly trailed along the edge of his sleeve, her touch lingering just long enough to send a shiver down his spine. There was no mistaking her intention, the flirtation bold and unmistakable.
"Jenny…" Mark started, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the tension in the air between them, unsure of how to navigate it. He wasn't exactly one to shy away from flirting, but there was something about Jenny's playful challenge that threw him off balance.
Jenny tilted her head, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. "What? Too much for you?"
Mark let out a nervous chuckle, trying to regain some control of the situation. "You've got a sharp tongue. Ever consider using it for good instead of evil?"
Jenny laughed softly, her fingers still trailing down his arm, her touch featherlight but charged. "Who says I'm not? You will know sooner or later how good this tongue of mine can do."
After she said that she made a hand gesture of an 'O' while doing some kind of licking techniques.
The room suddenly felt a lot smaller, the space between them almost nonexistent. Mark glanced at her again, noting the glint in her eyes—a playful mix of seduction and challenge. She was pushing, testing, and part of him wasn't sure how far she was willing to go.
He cleared his throat and leaned back slightly, trying to break the tension. "I think I'll pass on that taste test for now. You know, keeping things professional."
Jenny's laugh was light, but there was a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. "Your loss," she said with a wink, stepping back with an air of playful triumph. She knew exactly what effect she had on him.
Before things could get more complicated, Diane jumped in, sensing the need for a mood shift. "Alright, enough with all this serious talk. We need some of that energy for tomorrow. Can't waste all the depressing vibes today; Frank would want us to save some for his funeral."
Debbie shot her a glare. "Diane, have a little respect for Frank, will you?"
Diane shrugged, her playful demeanor unfazed. "Frank wouldn't want us moping around at his funeral. He'd crack one of his bad dad jokes to cheer everyone up. Right, Frank Jr.?"
James, who had just managed to escape from his aunts' grip, groaned. "Aunt Diane, please stop calling me Junior. It's weird."
Diane grinned cheekily. "Okay, Frank Jr. Whatever you say."
James sighed, shaking his head. "Honestly, Aunt Diane, Dad would probably be rolling his eyes at us for being too serious. He always said, 'If you can't laugh at life, you might as well be dead.'"
Diane grinned. "See? Even Frank agrees! We need to keep the spirit alive."
Diane continued, "Besides, what better way to honor him than with some laughter? Just imagine—he's probably up there now, rolling his eyes at us for being too serious. 'C'mon, kids, lighten up! The afterlife is more fun than any family reunion!'"
Debbie shook her head, unable to suppress a smile. "I can't believe I'm letting you two drag me into this. If we're going to make fun of the dead, at least let's do it after the ceremony."
Diane's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, we'll save the good stuff for then! Let's make it a roast! Who knows, maybe Frank will join in for the punchlines."
James sighed in defeat, while Debbie rolled her eyes at her sister's antics. "How about we focus on getting Mark some clothes?" Debbie suggested, turning to Mark. "Come on, I'll show you where the clothes are. Let's see if they can make you more comfortable."
Mark nodded, ready to move on from the tension. Jenny, her interest piqued at the mention of Mark trying on clothes, followed close behind. He could almost hear her mischievous thoughts.
As the group made their way upstairs, Mark noticed the calming gray tones on the walls, the decor simple but inviting. It felt like a home that had seen both joy and sorrow—much like the family within it. Upstairs, they were greeted by a series of family photos lining the walls, snapshots of memories that seemed both distant and recent.