The Vincent Boys (The Vincent Boys #1)(26)
“You dressed up,” I said quietly, not wanting to attract attention to us. He shrugged and glanced around as if seeing how many more people noticed his attempt at cleaning up. When his eyes settled back on me he leaned closer.
“Have you gone up to see her?” His soft whisper caused tears to spring back into my eyes. I shook my head and took a deep breath to keep from breaking down and hurling myself into his arms for comfort in front of the whole town. His warm hand covered mine and he stepped closer to me as he laced our fingers through together. Confused, I quickly glanced around the church this time to see who was watching us.
“Come on, Ash. You’ll regret not going to see her one last time. You need to do this for closure. Trust me.” There was a sadness in his eyes as he stared down at me pleadingly. “I didn’t go see my dad. I regret that. Even to this day.”
His admission caused the ache in my chest to throb harder, not just for me and my loss but for the little boy who had lost so much. Somehow he needed me to do this. I let him gently pull me up the aisle toward the open casket holding the woman I’d always depended on to be there no matter what. We’d talked about my wedding and how she would fix my hair and make-up. We’d planned the colors of the bridesmaid dresses and the bouquets of flowers she would arrange. We’d talked about her making the christening gown for my children to wear the day they were dedicated in this church. So many plans were made. So many dreams were cast sitting on her front porch drinking sweet tea and eating sugar cookies.
The casket was a lovely marble white with pink lining. She would have loved it. She loved pink. The massive spray of white and pink roses that lay over the bottom half of the casket would have delighted her. Those rose bushes she babied and cooed over every spring and summer had been one of her life’s joys. I wanted to thank everyone who had sent her the large flower bouquets lining the church walls, especially the ones with roses.
A warm trickle fell from my chin and splashed against my hand. I reached up with my free hand and wiped at my face, but it was pointless. Tears were streaming down my cheeks now. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“I won’t leave you but you need to go on up and say your goodbyes. I’ll stand right here behind you,” Beau whispered from beside me.
Since I’d walked into those familiar double doors tonight I’d had a tight knot in my chest, making it hard to breathe deeply. Now, as I stood here getting ready to say goodbye to the woman I loved so dearly, a peace settled over me. I released the tight grip I had on Beau’s hand and stepped forward.
She was smiling. I was glad she was smiling. She smiled a lot. They’d used her make-up. I’d know that color of ripe raspberry lipstick anywhere. The smell of roses was thick, reminding me even more of the afternoons we’d sat outside her house talking.
“They dressed you in your favorite dress,” I whispered as I stared down at her still body. “And they used your make-up. Although you do a better job putting it on. The eye shadow is a little too dark. Whoever put it on apparently doesn’t know about the less is more rule.”
It was odd talking to her like this. She would have chuckled at the make-up comment. We’d have concocted a scheme to give the morgue beauticians or whoever put make-up on the recently deceased a lesson in the art of ‘putting on your face’. The corners of my mouth lifted.
“Remember when we talked about how we hoped we got to hang around earth long enough to be at our own funerals? Well, in case you convinced God of this idea and you’re here somewhere listening,” I paused and swallowed the sob threatening to escape, “if you’re here . . . I love you. I miss you. I’m going to think of you every day, and all those plans we had, I’m going to keep them. Just promise you’ll be there. Promise you’ll convince the big guy to let you come back down to visit.”
This time a sob made it past my lips. I covered my mouth and dropped my head as the memories washed over me. Knowing this was the last time I’d ever see her again tore through my chest. A comforting arm wrapped around me and pulled me up against his hard chest. Beau didn’t say anything to comfort me. He just let me get this last goodbye out the only way I knew how. When the tears subsided and the ache in my chest seemed to ease I lifted my head to stare up at him.
“I’m a firm believer God doesn’t snatch you right up and haul you off to heaven. I think he lets you say your goodbyes. And your Grana wouldn’t have gone anywhere until she got this goodbye in.” I let out a small laugh and nodded. He was right of course. Even God couldn’t have moved her if she wasn’t ready.
“Bye, Grana,” I whispered one last time.
“You ready?” Beau asked, lacing his fingers through mine.
I turned and walked back down the aisle while nodding and speaking to others who were making their way to pay their condolences. Beau stood quietly and patiently beside me. I noticed several people flick their gaze curiously up at the town’s black sheep stationed beside me. This would be all over town before the night was over. Somehow that didn’t matter right now. Beau had been my friend since he’d pulled my hair on the playground and I in return grabbed his hand and twisted his arm behind his back. After the preschool teacher corrected us both and threatened to call our parents Beau had looked over at me and asked, “Want to sit by me and my cousin at lunch?”
They could all talk. Beau had come to my rescue when I needed it the most. He might not be the perfect citizen but Grana always said perfect was boring. She would love that I’d snubbed my nose at the gossiping betties at her funeral. I glanced back over my shoulder, smiling. She was here somewhere and I could almost hear her laughter as I walked out of the church holding Beau’s hand.