I shook my head.
Dante let out a tiny, scandalized gasp.“Did you decide if youwanther to stay?”
I gave a small nod, but it felt like admitting something huge.
The pastor, draped in dark robes, swung a censer as he made his way to the pulpit—more like a Catholic bishop than anything I’d ever seen in this church.The smoke curled through the air, unfamiliar and faintly jarring.I’d sat through enough Sundays here and at the other church to know this wasn’t his usual routine.It wasn’t even a Methodist thing.Which meant it had to be a Roland thing.Something he’d wanted for his memorial.
“Well?”Dante hissed in my ear.
“I want her to stay, okay?”I whispered back.
“Definitely the right decision.”He patted my back before leaning back into his seat.
“Let us pray,” the pastor said into the microphone at the pulpit.
The prayer went on so long I started peeking around to see who else had abandoned the head-bow.I caught Vinny staring straight ahead like a bored owl and pointed at him.He scowled and immediately bowed his head, hands folded, eyes wide open.
After the “amen” the pastor waved at the pianist to play a prepared song.She was in the middle of an unusual rendition of an 80’s pop song when her phone went off at what had to be the loudest ringer setting.“She Taught Me How to Yodel” by Frank Ifieldechoed through the sanctuary.The pianist fumbled with the phone to silence it, but it immediately set off again yodeling.
I covered my face to hide my silent laughter.Roland’s ghost must be screwing with his funeral.
When her phone set off for the third time with hyperactive yodels, I peeped through my fingers toward Erika where she sat at the end of pew.Her lips fought laughter.She widened her eyes at me as if scolding me before she covered her face.Her shoulders shook.She sure as hell wasn’t crying.That pushed me into silent crying laughter.
I had my tears under control by a few minutes into the preacher’s lecture about death.Couldn’t we just move on to testimonials?I was scheduled to speak after Erika.
The hour of testimonials, which consisted of story after story about Hope or Ronald saving pets or volunteering, completely overwhelmed me.
Erika moved to the podium and bowed her head, as if offering a silent prayer of her own.After a few steadying breaths, she looked up.“Thank you for being here today.Thank you for the stories you’ve shared about two people who left us far too soon.This loss was sudden, and it has shaken all of us in ways we’re still trying to understand.”
She gave a small, wistful smile.“Dad always used to say, ‘Life is short.Smile while you still have teeth.’”
A soft ripple of laughter moved through the room, the kind that carries both warmth and ache.
“I’m sure every one of you has a Roland-ism tucked away somewhere—a terrible joke, a ridiculous euphemism, or something he said at exactly the wrong moment that somehow made it the right one.That was him.He could make you groan and laugh in the same breath.He believed humor could steady a room.Sometimes it was his way of easing someone else’s fear.”
Her expression softened.“And then there was Hope.”She let the name rest there.
“Where Dad filled a room with laughter, Hope filled it with caring.She didn’t need punchlines.She had a way of reminding people they mattered.If Dad was the one who helped you smile, Hope was the one who made you feel safe enough to do so.”
She took a slow breath.“He cared deeply for his patients and the people who came with them.He cared about your stories and your worries.He remembered details of your families.And Hope cared for all of you in the quiet spaces in between.Together, they were balance.Together, they made a beautiful home.”
I was floored by how perfect that was, especially from someone who didn’t know Hope.Perhaps, Marty gave her hints on what to say.
I didn’t remember standing up to give the eulogy I’d prepared.Somehow, I only came back to myself when it was already over.
In somber silence, the caskets were placed in the graveyard out back of the church.The brisk wind made for a short graveside service.
About half of the funeral attendees progressed to the reception, which Marty had decided to host at the clinic.She’d decorated the lobby with old pictures of Roland and Hope.
By the time I arrived at the clinic, Vinny had disappeared out back to hang out with two boys from the baseball team.
Erika wore her stress-smile as she shook hands and accepted condolences from an endless line of people.Her black long-sleeved dress was conservative but still flattering.And that fancy bun gave her an air of tragic elegance.
I got in the back of the line to offer my condolences too.When I got to her, we stared at each other for a few silent moments.Her wide, shocked eyes lifted from our clasped hands to lock with mine.A million things pushed into my head, stuff I should say.Instead of the snarky, combative woman I’d been dealing with all week, right now I could see the broken girl who’d lost her mother too young and then had to watch her father drift away until he found someone else to love.This was the hollowed-out soul I’d watched at Hope and Roland’s wedding, who I stayed clear of as part of our unspoken agreement to keep the peace.
Hoarsely, I said, “This is tough.”
Her hand still held mine.The vulnerability I’d glimpsed disappeared behind the walls she kept in place to keep the world from hurting her.“It is.”
