Author's Note: Get ready for a much longer (over 2,000 words) meaty chapter, which marks the beginning of departure for Connecticut to retrieval of Bob's father from the morgue. This story is Rated T for sensitive material involving: grief, death, and also grief-and-death-related anxiety, so if these are a trigger for you, please abstain or read with caution.

It took a bit of cajoling, but somehow Linda managed to sway Bob into allowing her and the kids to follow Mort's hearse (it was the only car he had) to Connecticut the following day.

The kids, of course, were thrilled to be getting a free day off from school (it was a friday), on the basis of having to go to a funeral the following Monday (it would take Mort a few days to prepare the body for cremation, and the urn would go in a burial plot in the closest nearby cemetery).

"I would have liked to have used the 'dead relative' card at least once before we actually had a dead relative," Louise would later remark from the backseat on the way there. "It just doesn't give you the same, I dunno...thrill?...when you actually have a-a...dead relative." She blushed when she saw Bob's eyes in the rearview mirror focused directly at her. "Sorry dad."

"That's fine, Louise," Bob shrugged it off, trying hard not to be annoyed by her insensitivity. "Just...try to remember this...isn't exactly a vacation."

"It WILL be one if I can help it!" Gene proclaimed in defense as he swung his legs back and forth excitedly. "I've got a duffle bag FULL of pool toys and I FULLY intend to use them!"

"OK Gene," Bob replied dully as he stared aimlessly out the window, not really watching anything in particular as the world sped quickly by.

"Dad...?" It was the first time in awhile that Tina had spoken, and Bob immediately shifted his attention over to his eldest daughter, who was watching him closely-perhaps, a little too closely-and with obvious concern. "...do we, um..."

"What is it, Tina?" Bob shifted uncomfortably in his seat; the seat belt was always a little too tight, to the point of almost cutting off circulation.

"...we don't have to...um...uh..."

"Spit it out, Tina!" Linda demanded of her daughter.

"I just wanted to know do we have to see the body because I've never seen a body and I don't want to see a body and-"

"Woa, okay, easy, woa, there, Tina," Bob cut his daughter off abruptly, "Just slow down for me a bit there, Tina-" It seemed that even he had to catch his breath. "Nobody has to do anything like that on this trip except for me," he finally allowed, "It's just me they want to..." He tried again, unsuccessfully, to loosen the strap. "None...none of you are going to have to see the, the uh..." Again he shifted, the seatbelt was tugging at him mercilessly. "...the b..." Damn, that seat belt was bugging the living daylights out of him. "-the...body." He could feel Tina's eyes watching him like a hawk and he tried his best to ignore it. "Just..." Bob shut his eyes; he was suddenly feeling very tired, but he supposed it was due to lack of sleep the night before. "Just-stay back at the hotel with your mom...okay?"

"But what if we WANT to see the body?" Gene inquired without one moment of hesitation.

"Gene," his mother snapped, "there'll be plenty of more interesting, non-disturbing and NORMAL kid-like things to do back at the hotel."

"Nice try Mom-and since when do we ever use the word 'normal'!?" Gene, not satisfied one bit by that answer, followed his indignant retort with a silent death glare out the window and pouted.

"Dad?" It was Louise who broke the silence by speaking up next.

"Yes, Louise." Bob was suddenly very thirsty, which was very unusual for him and quite strange. (Typically he drank a full glass of water when he got up first thing in the morning, but he couldn't remember if he'd had one or not, and his throat was suddenly-and almost painfully-dry.)

A long, pregnant pause followed, after which Louise asked (with an unnatural reluctance filling her voice that Bob wasn't used to hearing), "Have...you ever been to a funeral, Dad?"

"Um..." Bob shifted again, and tried to swallow. The question had taken him completely by surprise and he wasn't sure exactly how to answer it. "Yes, Louise...but...it was a long time ago."

"Who was it?" Louise sounded genuinely interested, and Bob knew he couldn't avoid answering, no matter how much he didn't want to talk about it.

"...my mother, Louise-that is, to say-your grandmother." Bob forced himself to meet his youngest daughter's eyes in the review mirror. Louise didn't answer; her mouth was hanging open, shocked. Nobody else said a word-everyone knew that if there was one thing Bob refused to talk about, it was his mother. She had passed away suddenly when he was very young. It was common knowledge in the Belcher household never to mention her in his presence, as everyone knew that it would only upset him.

To everyone's surprise, it was Tina who dared to speak next. "What was her name again, Dad?" (Nobody except for Bob could ever remember.)

"Murial." Bob swallowed again, but it was hard-it felt like a golf ball was stuck somewhere deep inside his throat. "Her name was Murial."

"Wow, what a pretty name." For the first time since hearing about his father's death, Tina sounded genuinely happy about something. "Do you have any pictures of her?"

"...No." Again, he tried to swallow but again the golf ball seemed to get in the way. "We...we didn't really keep any of her pictures in the house," he added haltingly, "I-It was kind of a...a rule." Instead of explaining he continued quietly, "I...I had one. Once. But..." Again he stopped. "I think I may have...um...lost it, some...somewhere..." The golf ball was beginning to do something very strange-he didn't understand how this could even be possible, but it felt as though it was actually...growing... "I guess..." Feeling suddenly very lightheaded and dizzy, Bob struggled to focus directly on the road ahead of him. "I guess it was just too hard for..."

He stopped abruptly, his voice catching in his throat-as suddenly, without warning, everything around him began to feel as though it were moving far too fast. As Linda abruptly and unexpectedly changed lanes, the world around him tilted just as abruptly on its axis. All at once the golf ball expanded, and his stomach started to feel like it was going to explode. "Oh no-oh god-oh no-" Bob gasped as his hands searched desperately for something to grab onto. Finding nothing, he pitched forward and desperately hugged himself around the waste, his face turning pale as he rocked rhythmically back and forth.

Needless to say the rest of his family was alarmed by his actions.

"Dad! What's wrong?" Tina exclaimed with unmitigated fear in her voice. "MOM! What's wrong with Dad!?"

"Was it something you ate?" Louise attempted to politely offer one possible explanation.

"I think he's turning green!" Gene proclaimed with astonishment as the car continued to swerve and sway.

"Oooohhh crap..." Bob rasped out loudly from in between gasps, "Linda-you-you better pull over-"

"It's OK Bobby-you're gonna be OK," Linda tried to calm her husband as she swung hard to the right, where there just happened to be a food and fuel service station-one of the few that they had seen on the highway. Thankfully, Mort saw her turning and immediately followed the Belchers' car as Linda pulled quickly into the service station.

The car came to an abrupt halt in front of the sitting area, where there were a few old fashioned wooden picnic tables scattered randomly about on a well kept lawn. Bob was out of the car before Linda could even turn off the engine. Without saying a word he quickly located the closest wastebasket, where his stomach immediately rebelled against him, spewing the contents of his stomach into the trash can until his insides had no more to give, his throat sore and aching from exhaustion.

Everyone else tried to politely ignore what was going on in Bob's direction as they each respectively headed for the main building and the cafeteria. "I wonder if they sell chili dogs!" Gene exclaimed with far too much excitement, leading everyone else to groan with annoyance as they followed him inside.

Nobody had noticed that Louise had stayed behind as the rest of the Belchers disappeared into the building. She hadn't wanted to admit it to anyone else, but she was very worried about her father. Never before had she seen him get sick like that, and she had never known him to be one who got carsick. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt a little bit guilty about pressing the topic of his mother-even though it had been nice to learn her name, it had occurred to her that maybe funerals weren't the best topic to bring up when he was on the way to retrieving his father's dead body.

Before going anywhere else, Louise made sure to wave over at Mort (who was still sitting placidly in the front seat of his hearse, comfortably reading a newspaper, which he did often to pass the time). Returning her attention back to the task at hand, she then carefully retraced her steps back over to the car and the picnic tables, scanning the area in desperate search for her father. She found him sitting alone at one of the picnic tables that dotted the area. As she approached, she could still hear a bit of labored breathing, but she chose to ignore it as she hesitantly drew closer. When she was within arm's length, without a word of greeting, she stood next to him and held out her nearly full water bottle.

"What?" It seemed to take Bob a moment to realize she was there. When he saw who it was, he allowed himself to relax a little-it was just his daughter Louise. "Oh. H-hi, there, uh...Louise."

"Thought you could use some-a the good ol' cold stuff," Louise added with halfhearted optimism as she continued to hold out the water bottle to him, trying to keep the full amount of sympathy she was feeling for him out of her voice (like herself, he detested any gestures governed by pity). "I'm trying to reduce the possibility of needing bathroom breaks," she added carefully for good measure.

"Ah...thanks...you, uh, don't have to..." But he took the bottle anyway, and took a few small sips. His stomach was still angry at him for before, and he was finding it difficult to calm the restless beast down.

As he was sipping the water, Louise took it upon herself to hop onto the bench beside her father, who didn't protest; they sat there in silence for a moment, watching the leaves dancing on the midday breeze. After a couple of minutes Bob noticed his daughter was shivering a little. "Cold?" he asked her, at which she nodded; he immediately removed his overcoat without being asked and put it gently around her shoulders.

As a wordless thank-you, Louise turned and gave him a partially raised smile-she didn't really ever fully smile, it was kind of a thing that Bob had never tried to understand (all of his kids were kind of weird). "I'm hungry," she announced matter-of-factly.

"Where are the others?" Bob asked in response, suddenly noticing that they were the only ones left outside.

"Gene demanded that we get fast food. They're all inside the cafeteria wolfing down burgers and hot dogs and-" Louise blushed as she remembered her father's weak stomach and what he'd just gone through; also, she hoped he hadn't noticed the fact she'd mentioned that his family was probably eating someone else's burgers. "-er...sorry. I mean...probably just hot dogs. Burgers at these places usually suck."

Bob half-snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes. "Language, Louise."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Louise grinned, "these babies reaaaally taste shitty!"

"LOUISE!" Bob barked in spite of his sore throat. He might have been annoyed, but in reality Bob couldn't help but smirk back at his daughter, who grinned back at him sheepishly in return. "So..." Bob heaved a short sigh and forced himself to his feet-finding that, much to his surprise, he could stand. "...wanna get some corn dogs to go?"

"Corn dogs?!" Louise stuck out her tongue, looking horrified, "BLECH!"

"Better than truck stop burgers," Bob snickered softly as he held out his hand to Louise, who immediately hopped off the bench and took her father's hand in his own, joining him as they walked steadily in the direction of the main building.

"Yeah, cuz they're not OUR burgers, and they're the BEST, BABY!" Louise exclaimed loudly, as she thrust up her fists in excitement and with unabashed glee.

Bob couldn't help but smile at that. Suddenly his stomach felt much lighter, and he found the smells floating in his direction hugely appealing. Nothing wrong with a bite, he thought simply and confidently, as he followed his daughter inside.