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Everyone took their seats, and Theadora sat at the organ flooded by a kaleidoscope of beamed light.
To the sound of heavy, sorrowful notes, the service began.
As the priest began his sermon, I heard whispers and shuffling from the back of the church. I turned to see who’d arrived.
Illuminated by a shaft of blinding daylight, Mirabel stood at the arched entrance, dressed in black. Her long, wavy hair gave off a fiery red halo, and her presence added electricity and life to an otherwise-grim affair. Not that she would have intended it that way.
She’d become my most welcomed, if not guilty, distraction from this crushing sadness, the likes of which I’d never experienced before.
If I were being honest, I preferred losing myself to replays of that hot, steamy night over being consumed by dark, unsettling thoughts of my father’s untimely death.
We hadn’t seen each other afterthatnight, one week ago. Not for lack of trying. I’d called her from London, where, as newly appointed CEO of Lovechilde Holdings, I’d been all week.
“Harry Lovechilde was loved by many within the Bridesmere community,” the priest said. “He worked tirelessly to ensure no family went without, especially during crop failure and the devastating floods that swept through the region two years back.”
I recalled that period. My mother had fought with my father over the suspension of farming rents, which added up to about one million pounds, or so she kept reminding him. For us, it was a no-brainer. Those families had been there forever.
So what does that now mean?That question had already come up more than once, but with my head buried in my hands, I was in no emotional state to think about the next hour, let alone the future of the surrounding farms.
The priest stepped away for Declan to take the podium. After clearing his throat, my brother spoke of our dad as a loving, nurturing parent. He shared sweet anecdotes, including the time our father tried to perform CPR on a duck who’d crashed to the ground. That charmingly absurd episode brought a few chuckles from the mourners.
No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t muster a smile. Savanah squeezing the blood from my hand while crying her eyes out did nothing to improve my mood. I succumbed to endless contagious sobs that had me tasting my own salty tears again. The only time I’d really cried like this, although not for such a sustained period, was after the death of our pet dog when I was twelve.
Declan deserved a medal of bravery for standing at that lectern. I could never have done it. I’d barely uttered a coherent sentence all week.
My mother just sat there, blank-faced. Will was at her side, also emotionless. I couldn’t figure that out. All I could do was think about the voluptuous local who reminded me that I was still alive and hot-blooded, despite this crippling sorrow.
We rose, knelt, then rose again as we recited prayers and sang a hymn accompanied by Theadora on the organ. Finally, the service came to an end. More hugging ensued, then I became one of six pallbearers.
To the strains of Bach, I took slow, careful strides, my eyes cast down as we carefully moved through the church, down the steps, and onto the grassy side of the cemetery where my grandparents, along with other Lovechildes, rested. Their cold and worn tombstones stood side by side. The grey-etched stone reflected the melancholic sky while circling ravens squawked overhead. We placed the casket down, and I took a step back.
“Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust,” the priest orated, and we all tossed dirt over my father’s coffin.
My sister fell into my arms, sniffling, and I patted her back. “I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.”
I knew how she felt. I was no longer that flippant man flitting from bar to bar. My father’s death had sent me into a dark cave of introspection. A place I’d never visited before.
Is this what an epiphany feels like?
Declan and Theadora joined us.
“That was a stirring speech.” I hugged my brother and kissed Theadora on the cheek.
“I don’t know how you managed to keep it together,” Savanah said, wiping her nose.
“Someone had to do it.” He gave his wife a sad smile as she took his hand with love glowing in her eyes.
The shining light that beamed from their eyes in a show of touching affection tugged at my heartstrings. Seeing how close they were and the strength they drew from one another, especially at such a dark time, made me pine for what they had.
“That was a moving performance,” I said to my new sister-in-law.
“Thanks. I spent all night practising.” She gave Declan an apologetic smile.
“One doesn’t tire of Bach easily.” Declan kissed her cheek then turned to me. “So how was your first day with the staff in London?”
Although business was a far cry from my current thoughts, I welcomed the change of subject. “Good, I think.”
“The board wants to impose cutbacks,” Declan said. “That’s the meeting you missed.”
