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She glanced down to send Chase a "ha-ha, I'm up here and you're down there" look, which he returned with a scowl, and then she caught sight of why people were moving.
The funeral was over. Six men in uniform were carrying the casket down the aisle right toward them. Willow grabbed Daddy's neck as he scooted Momma and Chase back a few steps.
And the cortege passed directly by them. A couple of the men hauling the casket had tears streaming down their red faces. It fascinated Willow to see grown men cry. She had certainly never seen Daddy cry before.
Behind the casket and in front of the priest trailed a tall, slender woman in a black dress. To one side of her walked an even taller, lanky boy who was, to Willow's estimate, probably seventeen or eighteen years old. He was the most beautiful teen she had ever seen. With glistening super-dark black hair and a chalky white face, he strode with his head up and his hands fisted down at his sides, looking around at the crowd as if daring them to try approaching him.
On the other side of the woman sobbed a girl, younger than the boy, but still older than Willow. She looked about Chase's age. She held onto the slender woman's hand as they moved silently along.
The woman lifted a white tissue to the corner of her red-rimmed eyes right before it slid listlessly out of her hand and started to float gracefully to the ground. Willow had a feeling the woman didn't even notice she'd dropped the thing, because the boy next to her stopped and bent to retrieve it. He put the tissue back into the woman's hand and she continued to lift it to her face as if she never even detected its short absence.
"Who're they?" Willow asked, she guessed a little too loudly since her mother immediately hushed her.
Frowning, Willow craned her head around to see them better after they moved past. She barely got a glimpse of the back of the boy's shiny black hair.
"Who are they?" she asked again, whispering this time.
Momma put her warm hand on Willow's back. "His family," she answered softly.
"The dead cop's family," Chase clarified and probably would have added "Duh!" if Momma hadn't hushed him too. Willow twisted again in Daddy's arms to get a better look at "the family" and would've fallen right out of his grip if he hadn't caught her and held her tighter. But the boy with the dark hair was gone and so were his momma and sister.
"That boy's daddy died?" she asked, squeezing her arms around her own daddy's neck.
She couldn't imagine what she would do without her daddy. Who'd tuck her in at bedtime? Who'd lift her up into his great big strong arm
s and tell her she was his special girl? Who'd come into her room in the middle of the night when she got scared after a nightmare?
After pausing to think it through, she decided she wouldn't like having a dead daddy. She frowned and looked again in the direction of the recently passed casket.
"Why wasn't he crying for his daddy?"
Her father didn't answer. He merely pulled her close and told her he loved her as he kissed her hair.
~ * ~
It took forever for them to pile out of the church. After they finally made it to their car, it was off to the cemetery next. Now this part was actually somewhat entertaining, Willow decided. All the things the different officers did to show their support of their fallen comrade were just plain awesome to watch. A big cannon blast followed the gun salute and the guys with bugles and other people folding flags.
It was like one big parade, except everyone was sad instead of happy.
Willow was glad to be outside too. Warm for November, the nice cool breeze caressed her cheeks and felt like heaven after being cooped up in that stuffy old church. Plus, she could chew on her gum as loudly as she wanted because all the other background noise muffled her chomping.
Her family also got a great view of that black-haired boy.
He was beautiful, even if he did look miserable. The more Willow watched him, the more she thought he should cry. After the graveside service, she finally got her chance to tell him so.
A huge line of people formed to console the widowed family. The tall slender woman accepted hugs and handshakes and thanked every person for coming. Next to her, her children weren't so thankful. The girl just sobbed louder every time someone tried to talk to her and the boy glared at whoever looked his way. He didn't verbally respond to anyone, but merely gave an occasional nod or shake of the head to answer questions directed his way.
Daddy went to the widow and took her hands, telling her how deeply sorry he was for her loss and how he would be glad to help with anything she needed. Chase and Willow were much shorter and were therefore more on the same level with the boy and girl.
Chase looked at the girl, since she was right there. When he shyly said, "Hi," she began to sob all over again. Chase gave her an odd look and moved closer to Momma's leg.
Willow ignored the little girl and strode to the boy. She got directly in front of him and looked up. His eyes were so full of hurt when he glanced down and returned her stare that Willow wondered how he hadn't exploded from tears yet.
"Why aren't you crying for your daddy?" she bluntly asked.
"Willow!" Momma gasped in horror and started toward her.
Willow moved quickly. Thinking if she was holding someone's hand her mother was less likely to jerk her away, she grasped the boy's cold fingers.
