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She knew that he hadn't meant to upset her. He had just been trying to cheer her up, if anything, and that it had had the opposite effect certainly wasn't on him.
Beverly parked to the side of one of the small rods in the cemetery and climbed out. She hadn't been able to bring herself back here since the day her father had been buried, and her heart ached.
This wasn't the same. A cold slab of stone. It was no replacement for her father.
She walked past several rows of graves before turning and heading to the right before reaching her father's.
Harry Young.
Beverly stopped and stared at his tombstone, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. It was a relief to finally be able to let out all of the emotions that had been bottled up inside of her since his death.
She kneeled down and ran her fingers over the letters as if this could bring him back in some way. More tears welled up in her eyes, and she started to sob, wishing that he was here so that she could tell him everything... all of the struggles, the successes, how much she loved him.
Beverly took a few moments to compose herself before laying her head against the cold stone. Taking a deep breath, she began talking, pouring out her emotions and telling him everything that has happened since he died.
"It's... I think your... Mom is back home. It's nice, but... it's not the same. We both... We miss you so much, and... It's wrong. It's..."
She blew out a shaky breath.
"Nails R Us is doing well. I was really worried there for a moment. I always knew that it was a male-dominated field, but with you being there... People saw you, and they were fine with hiring us, but now it's just me, and I’m a woman... I suppose I was a bit naive to think that I could pick up right where we left off. Three jobs, Father. Three jobs in a row I didn't get picked, all because I was a woman. Well, and possibly because of not having my own crew, too, but I do have one job. A big one. It's with Hidden Creek Orchard. You know the place. We've driven by it so many times before, especially when we worked at that park about a mile down the road from it. There was a massive freak storm, and honestly, other places might be in need of a construction company, but I'm too busy with the orchard and all of the work it needs. It's a... Well, it's a godsend, this job. Roy Griffin hired me. He's one of the cowboys who works there. I think... I think you would like him. He's been helping me. Originally, he wanted to do all of the work himself. Can you imagine? Someone with just a bit of construction knowledge he's picked up from working on the orchard? He wanted my expert opinion for foundational damage, possible foundational damage I should say, and because there is some, he hired me outright. He wanted to lessen the burden on the other cowboys. There are seven of them in total. Two families of cowboys. The owner, Colton, and his two brothers, and then Roy and his three brothers. But, yeah, Roy's been such a huge help to me."
She trailed off. Roy really had been a help in so many ways.
But she had to be careful. He was her boss. It wouldn't be right for her to lean too much on him emotionally. It wouldn't be fair.
"Everything..." She blew out a breath and rubbed her chest that ached something fierce. "It's just that everything in my life seems so different without you. I miss you so much. Driving away from this place... Being one of the pallbearers... That might've been..."
She struggled to get the words out.
"That might've been one of the hardest things I've ever done," she whispered. "The pallbearer... everything about that day..."
She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths and listening to the birds calling out in the nearby trees.
A few minutes later, she opened her eyes and looked up at the sky before turning back to the grave.
"I know it's been some time since I last... I'll come more often. I will. I just... I'm doing my best. I am. I'm trying. Can't do more than that, right? I'm... I'll be okay."
She took a shaky breath and wiped away a tear before continuing.
"I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep Nails R Us going. Your dream is alive... our dream... even without you here."
She talked until there weren't any more words left inside of her, until all of those things that had been weighing down on her heart were released. When she was finished, Beverly wiped away the tears from her eyes before standing up and holding onto the hammer in her belt as if it was an anchor against a sea of grief. She said one last goodbye before turning around and heading back to her car, feeling lighter now that some of the weight on her heart had been lifted.
Before she entered her car, though, she spied the cross closer to the entrance of the cemetery, which made her think about the conversation with Roy about God.
That conversation had opened up something inside of her, but she hadn't taken the time to truly reflect on it until now. There was something more to the world than just what was here on earth, a world of faith and belief that she had known existed for others but not so much herself.
For so long, she hadn't known what to believe, but she had to admit that there was something missing, more than just her father.
She wanted to believe in all of it, in God and His Son and in Heaven, but it was hard when she felt like all of the answers were so far away, and she didn't have anyone to guide her. Even so, she wanted to try. She wanted to pray even though she didn't really know how to, but she hoped that maybe, just maybe, it might bring her some comfort.
Was that fair, though? To want to pray for that reason? She had been so busy running from the pain of her loss that all of this seemed almost startling yet also wondrous.
She tried to reach out to God, to find some comfort in Him. Roy had made it sound so easy, so simple, and maybe she was putting too much pressure on herself.
Somehow, though, it didn't seem natural or comfortable to her. All she really was doing was hoping and believing that He was there and listening.
The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like faith was something that you needed to build over time, prayer by prayer until it became a part of you like breathing or walking. You could never really stop building on it, no matter how much time passed or how much you moved on with your life. In a way, it felt like a journey toward home—a journey toward understanding and peace within oneself, one that Beverly wanted to take. Desperately.
