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May you fly with the angels.
The dates indicated that Ada Marie would have been in her seventies when she passed away. His wife, she assumed. This man was as familiar with grief as she was.
“Your young man is up in heaven with my Ada, and I’m sure he forgives you for whatever happened. I’m tearing up myself, just listening to you.”
She blinked rapidly. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.” She swallowed past a lump. “You know what? I think he forgives me, too. And so do I. Finally.” Clearing her throat, she gestured to the headstone across from her. “I’m sorry about your Ada.”
“So am I, love, but she’s in a better place now.”
Kat smiled and left him there, heading back to Brooke. She climbed into the car and repressed the instinctive urge to shield herself as the engine started.
“You okay, Kitty-Kat?” Brooke asked, touching her arm.
Kat turned, meeting her friend’s worried gaze. “I am. Thank you for bringing me here. I needed closure, and you’ve helped me with that.”
“You’re so welcome. I’m glad I could help even a fraction as much as you’ve helped me.” They hugged across the gap between the seats. When they separated, Brooke put the car into gear and steered it onto the road.
Kat stared out of the window, her heart lighter than it had been since the accident. The oppressive weight that had been smothering her for so long had finally lifted, and she felt like she could float out of her seat and soar across the sky the same way the fantail had. Even though it had been years since she’d experienced it, she knew what this feeling was. Freedom.
