I keep my head down, managing not to make eye contact with anyone as we shuffle into the front pew. Every time I try to swallow, my throat refuses to budge.
I can’t bring myself to look at the gilt-framed photo of my parents resting on an easel beside the pulpit. Instead, I stare blankly at the two matching caskets Iris picked out, pretending I don’t know who’s inside. That gets me through the depressing songs and the short sermon, but then Alex squeezes my knee and it’s time.
I push to my feet and adjust the black tie squeezing my throat. A collective murmur lifts from the crowd, but by the time I step behind the pulpit, you could hear a pin drop. Given my reputation around town, they’re probably all waiting for me to burst into flames inside this holy place.
I can’t look at my sisters because seeing them cry will make my own tears spill, and that’ll be all people will talk about. God knows, I’ve already given this place enough fodder to last a lifetime.
As I stare down at my phone screen, my throat locks up. Why did I let my sisters talk me into this? They owe me.
I raise my head and glance over the small sea of ashen faces, my gaze halting on a pair of clear, green eyes watching me. The young woman’s golden hair falls in soft waves over the shoulders of her sensible black dress.
Jade Quinn. Hayley’s childhood best friend.
Unlike most of the people sitting in this church, there’s no judgment on Jade’s face, just a sad but encouraging smile.
I clutch the wood of the pulpit, inhale a deep breath, and begin.
“When he was in high school, my dad was one heck of a football player. He still holds the state record for the most touchdowns in a single season. I remember worrying that he’d be disappointed when my promising football career ended at seven years old with a broken ankle.” That was when he gave me my first camera to distract me from having to be in a cast for a month.
“But the disappointment never came,” I go on. “Dad was never anything but proud of us. During our weekly phone calls, he’d spend half the time asking about my life and the other half telling me what was happening with Iris and Alex, and where in the world Hayley was off to next. Even though he was a successful businessman, we rarely spoke about business. He just wanted to talk about his family because that was his legacy. Not the stores or real estate or investments, but his wife, children, and Ella, his granddaughter. The light of his life.”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip, and my eyes burn.
One down. One to go.
“And Mom…”Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.“I’m sure you’ll all agree that Martha King was a friend to everyone she met, a pillar in this community, and a saint for putting up with all four of us without losing her mind.”
A light chuckle sounds from one of the rear pews, and my gaze falls back on Jade. Her amusement quickly fades, and when she reaches up to wipe her cheeks, the man beside her offers her a tissue. Is that Nate Williams? They’re sitting awfully close together. Don’t tell me that Jade is dating that prick.
Focus, Dylan.
I glance back at my phone, skimming my notes to try and remember where I left off. “I think my sisters would agree that Mom could bake a boxed apple pie better than anyone on the planet. And she gave the best hugs, always holding on so long that it got awkward.”
I hear Hayley’s choked laugh, clear as day.
Time to wrap it up.
“Through the years, my parents were invited to all sorts of charity events and parties. Whenever Mom would get tired, she’d give Dad a wink. That was their signal. He’d wink back, then tell whoever he was speaking to that it was time to go, and they’d leave together. I don’t think it ever crossed their minds to go their separate ways, not even for a night.”
My throat tightens, and I reach up to loosen my tie so I can get through this last part.
“Just like all those parties,” I say, “Mom and Dad had to leave this world together. And knowing that makes all of this a little more bearable.”
I’m such a fucking liar. Having them both die at the same time has been torture. I couldn’t have chosen one over the other. I just want one of them here to help us through this shit.
“Mom and Dad,” I say to the coffins, “We love you and will never stop missing you.” I collect my phone and return to where my sisters are sobbing, still fighting the sharp stinging in my eyes.
CHAPTERFOUR
JADE
I swipemy knuckles over my cheeks as Hayley and her sniffling sisters shuffle down the aisle, trailing after the pallbearers carrying the caskets. Hayley’s brother Dylan is at the front of the pack, the edge of his dad’s coffin resting on one shoulder, his stricken eyes concealed by sunglasses.
The overhead speakers crackle like someone’s fiddling around with the sound system, and a second later, “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” by The Rolling Stones floods the air as mourners begin filing out of the church.
My brows fly up at the choice of song, and I exchange a glance with Nate. After we’d arrived at the funeral at the exact same time, the deputy sheriff had followed me into one of the back pews and sat quietly beside me for the service.
“Hayley’s dad was a rock n’ roll fan,” I explain in a whisper while slipping the funeral booklet into my purse.
