Until Harry(34)

I turned and gazed upon my uncle once more and whispered, “Goodbye, Uncle Harry.”

I knew I was supposed to leave then, but I couldn’t work my legs, which were frozen in place. I didn’t care because I didn’t want to leave anyway, but this wasn’t about what I wanted. This was about my uncle and him receiving the best send-off possible. Yet, even though I knew all of that, I still couldn’t bring myself to leave the room.

Kale knew this too, because without warning, my feet were lifted off the ground, and for a moment I fought against him as he lifted me from the room, but once we were outside in the hallway, I latched onto him and cried until there wasn’t a single tear left in my body. He mutely held me the entire time, kissed my head and swayed us from side to side until my sobs became mere sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling awful for using him as my shoulder to lean on when I had no right to ask that of him. I had no right to ask anything of him.

He squeezed me. “I’m here for you, Lane. Always.”

More tears came then, and regret wrapped around my sadness and thrust me further into misery. I wished more than anything that I could have been here for him when he needed me like he was here for me now, but that was the difference between myself and Kale.

He was selfless, and I was selfish.

“It’s time, sweetheart,” he murmured.

I mutely turned and headed out front, where I found the garden, as well as the road and pathways, was full of people. That made me cry harder. My brothers found Kale and me, and both of them hugged me when they saw what a state I was in. We moved over to my grandmother, mother and father, who was no longer with my uncle, and that meant his coffin had been closed for the very last time.

I held Kale’s hand and squeezed it as my uncle’s coffin was removed from my parents’ house and loaded into the back of the hearse. My family and Kale all got into the black family car that drove behind the hearse. I sat next to Kale, which wasn’t surprising considering I hadn’t let go of his hand since he’d offered it to me.

I leaned my head on his shoulder as we rode to the church for the funeral mass. The journey to the church was quicker than I would have liked. When we got out of the car, Kale let go of me so he, my brothers and father could join the footmen to carry my uncle’s coffin into the church.

I took hold of my grandmother’s and mother’s hands, and we cried together as we slowly walked behind the coffin into the church. I watched as the coffin was lowered from the men’s shoulders onto a stand that sat at the front of the altar, along with multiple bunches of flowers, flower nameplates and a beautiful picture of my uncle smiling happily.

I took my seat on the bench at the front of the church and nestled next to my father, then scooted down when Kale sat next to me, put his arm around my shoulder and tucked my body against his. I heard loud murmurs and movement as the priest prepared for the service. Glancing over Kale’s shoulder, I saw a sea of people. I wasn’t surprised to find the church so full. My Uncle Harry had been one of a kind, and the hundreds of people who came to see him off were just a testament of how truly incredible he was.

I was so thankful for Kale. He didn’t have to give me the time of day, yet he sat beside me and held my hand through the entire mass. He hugged me to him when both of my brothers read out their prayers, and rocked me as I cried during my father’s eulogy. It made people laugh to hear of the crazy side to my uncle, but it mostly made people cry, knowing they had lost such a character from the town.

While the priest was reading one of the final prayers, my mind drifted to my last Skype conversation with my uncle, and it brought me both comfort and heartache.



“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” I said to my uncle when his face filled my laptop screen.

My uncle snorted. “Hello to you too, darling.”

I grinned and adjusted my headphones so I could hear him clearly. “Sorry – hi, how are you?”

“Great now that we’re chatting.” He winked, then waved his hand. “Go on: tell me about the day you’ve had that I won’t believe.”

“Smartarse,” I chided, making him laugh. “Okay,” I began, “so you know how I’ve been editing a horror series for K.T. Boone?”

“The one where the little girl is really the killer?” my uncle asked warily.

Reading that series scared him.

“Yes,” I said, nodding.

“What about it?” he asked.

I had to contain my squeal because even though I was tucked away in the back of my local Starbucks, I would still draw attention to myself.

“The latest book in the series hit the New York Times list at number one!” I gushed. “Uncle Harry, something I edited, and helped shape, is a best bloody seller!”

My uncle cheered and clapped his hands together. “I knew it! I knew you’d do brilliantly. I’m so proud of you.”

For once, I felt something that resembled happiness.

“Thank you,” I said. “I can’t believe it. My name is associated with it, and because of that I’ve gotten three emails from different publishers – big publishers might I add – looking to hire me to work with some of their clients. Can you believe that?”

“Darling,” my uncle said with a beaming smile, “I’m not one bit surprised.”