No Denying You (Danvers #5)(63)
As the rest of the family started to take their places, Brant had put his arm around her, steering her toward their pew. “Come on, honey, the service is starting.” Her legs had locked in place for a moment—she didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to say this final good-bye. Her friends looked on in sympathy, seeming to read her thoughts. Brant had leaned down to whisper in her ear, “It’s okay, just lean on me.” Her brain seemed to obey those words and her feet started slowly moving forward. They slid into the pew beside Boston and Emma allowed Brant to draw her firmly into his side. He had promised her yesterday to give her anything she needed and he was doing it so far. She would have never made it without him today. She wondered idly if he knew that.
Emma had perfected a process for surviving funerals when she was little and it automatically kicked in when the opening prayers began. First she started by counting the light fixtures in the chapel, then the windows, then the pews, then the people. When that was finished, she started all over again. She had made numerous passes around the room when she looked up to see Brant watching her. At some point, he had started following her eyes and she could have sworn that he knew exactly what she was doing. Next to her, Boston, too, stared off into the distance. Farther down the pew, she saw tears trailing silently down her mother’s cheeks as she stared sightlessly ahead, and her father, who had been strong through the entire process, looked more in need of his wife’s support than at any other time since Robyn had passed.
Emma almost made it through the entire service without breaking down. Her mother had insisted on the final songs, and Emma should have anticipated how difficult it would be to hear them. Her mother wanted Robyn remembered for who she was and what she loved. The lights in the chapel dimmed and images started flickering on the screen in the front of the chapel. The song “There You’ll Be” by Faith Hill played first as images flashed by of Robyn holding a surfboard when she was barely old enough to walk.
If you could show a life in pictures, then their mother had certainly managed to do it. Emma had always hated having so many pictures taken by their parents. Now, as she saw her sister’s life played out before her eyes—even though it was incredibly painful to witness—she was happy that their mother had never let an important moment pass without capturing it. When the last song, “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry, started playing, their father finally broke down and hastily left the chapel. The song had been a favorite of Robyn’s, and their mother had wanted it included even though it wasn’t exactly a traditional funeral song. Neither Emma nor her father had thought it was appropriate for a funeral, but her mother was adamant and Boston, of course, sided with her.
Now, to Emma, it felt like her sister was in the room for the first time. Sobs could be heard from all over the chapel as the slide show ended. She hadn’t even realized that she was quietly crying until Brant pressed a tissue in her hand. On her other side, Boston wasn’t doing much better. She gripped his hand tightly as Brant squeezed hers in return. I love you, sis, and I always will, she whispered in her mind.
She remembered Brant telling her that morning, “This is the worst day you’ll ever live through. You may not believe it now, but there will never be another day like today. Each new day will be better than this one.” She clung to those words like a promise as they left the chapel for the burial. For once she hadn’t argued with him because she wanted him to be right with all of her heart.
At last the house was quiet and everyone was gone. Emma sank gratefully into the tub of steaming water that Brant had insisted on running for her before going back downstairs to check on her parents. She suspected that he was really intent on cleaning up any messes left by the barrage of people who had visited earlier.
As the water eased some of her tension from the day, Emma’s mind started to drift. To say that she had been surprised by Brant the last few days was an understatement. Despite how mad and disappointed she was in him when she arrived in Florida, she had to admit that he had been the glue that had held all of them together. She had never doubted his organizational skills; the man had some serious OCD about stuff like that. Those same traits had been her family’s saving grace. She figured he had taken one look at them when he arrived and realized that he needed to take control. Her father, who could usually be counted on to keep an even keel, had looked to Brant for assistance with making the funeral arrangements. Both her mother and Boston had looked to him for everything from their clothing for the service to the gathering of friends and family at the house before and after the service. Emma had just needed his support. He knew when she wanted to be alone, when she needed to cry and when she just needed to talk. He had been their rock and regardless of what happened next, she would always love him for that.
She knew that he needed to return home soon, and she felt a pang at the thought of him leaving. Her friends from Danvers had dropped by the house after the service. Jason and Claire had pulled her aside and told her to take the time that she needed with her family and assured her that her job would be waiting when she was ready. She had been truly touched. She counted Claire as a friend but hadn’t often been in a social setting with Jason. When she had started to thank him, calling him Mr. Danvers, since he was, after all, the president of the company, he had gently stopped her, insisting that she call him Jason. Truthfully, she had been tongue-tied to have their support. She had promised Suzy that they would catch up soon. Her friend looked wonderful after her ordeal, but you could hardly miss the protective arm that her husband, Gray, kept around her.