Justin called to say he had to work but would meet me at the church before the memorial. I was exhausted, so the Doberman and I retired early, sleeping soundly until morning.
“I am not looking forward to today, Scarlett.” At the sound of her name, the dog gazed at me intently. “Of course, no one enjoys a funeral, do they?” She hopped onto the bed and snuggled close, obviously happy she wasn’t expected to attend.
I chose the same black suit I wore at Gran’s service. When I opened my jewelry box to take out the diamond earrings Mom gave me for graduation from college, I saw the gold locket. I hadn’t put it on since Stella and Ben’s elopement. Today it was the perfect choice. The necklace glowed softly against the dark fabric of my dress. A random bubble of memory struggled to pop to the surface, something I forgot and needed to remember. But it refused to show itself.
Lesroy’s car was already at Mom’s. Vincent opened the door, looking dapper in suit and tie. He gave me a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Heads up,” he said, “it’s bat-shit crazy in there.”
“When isn’t it?”
“Good point. Sometimes I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into, but Lesroy’s worth it,” Vincent replied, then added. “Rita’s passing out Xanax like Halloween candy; I suggest you grab one. And help me keep an eye on Lesroy, please. He’s already downed two.”
At Gran’s funeral, the drug of choice was Valium. I barely remember being there.
Vincent and I joined the rest of our group in the kitchen. Rita pressed a pill in my palm as soon as she saw me. Mom was sipping a clear drink with lime—and probably a kick—in it. Lesroy stared out the window with a dazed look on his face. And poor Mike was trying to corral everyone to get coats.
I dry-swallowed Xanax and helped Vincent get my cousin into his jacket while Mike led the sisters to his car. Vincent assisted me into the back seat, and we were off. The church was only a few miles away, but Lesroy was dozing before we pulled into the lot. Vincent had to go around to the passenger side to shake him awake and pull him out of the car. I was trying to get out of the back without flashing passersby when Justin appeared. He took my arm and hoisted me to my feet, where I yanked my dress down and smoothed my hair.
He held me tight before asking how everyone was doing.
“Except for Mike, we’re all high as kites,” I confessed. “I’m not sure Lesroy’s even fully conscious.”
“Oh boy.” He sighed and steered me into the building.
The minister was younger than I expected, not much older than me, I guessed. I imagined he hadn’t conducted too many funeral services and would have bet he hadn’t done any with a group like us. Thanks to the miracles of modern pharmaceuticals, we were all amiable when he sat us down to explain how we would proceed down the aisle to take our seats on the first two rows.
It wasn’t until he lined us up to enter the church that things got a little dicey. Mom and Mike were supposed to go first, but she had a slight problem with balance and required extra support. So, she requested Lesroy take her other arm. Justin and I were to follow. Rita grumbled about wanting to walk with her son before taking Vincent’s arm and bringing up the rear.
Pictures of Stella were scattered on one end of a table by the pulpit. Birthdays, graduation, Christmases—it was a tableau of her life. The gold and bronze urn with her ashes dominated the other end.
The minister had never met Stella and didn’t seem too familiar with my mother. He gave it his best shot, though, speaking about the joys of living a Godly life as a sister and a daughter and the comfort of knowing we would all be together again someday. And everyone was invited to the fellowship hall for a reception.
Justin stood beside me in the receiving line where people filed by expressing condolences. Cara was there, and I vaguely recalled seeing several college and a few high school friends. The comfort their appearance brought caught me off guard. Even Alisha Beaumont gave me a warm feeling despite her inability to wrinkle her forehead when she cried. Stella would have appreciated her friend’s Botoxing up for the occasion.
The memorial was harder than I expected. After the shock of losing my sister and the horror of her actual death, I hadn’t thought something as tame as a farewell tribute could be so devastating. Maybe it was because it marked the official end of Stella’s time on earth. Or maybe it was because our family seemed so small without her.
Chapter 37
The night of the funeral and many nights after, I woke in the middle of the night sobbing. Justin stayed with me. Whenever he had to leave, it was with the unspoken understanding he would soon return.
A few weeks after the service on one of our off-nights, I received a box from Ecuador. The return address was a general post office number. Inside were baggies filled with jewelry on top of folded clothes. There was a note taped to a baggy.
Dear Señorita Grace,
I am sorry we did not get another chance to talk, but one day I will explain.
I could not meet with you before you left. When your sister came to stay with my family, there was not time for her to pack much. She collected only a few valuables and pieces of clothing. I am enclosing them for you. I, too, loved your sister, and I share the pain of your loss.
Eva
When it came to expensive jewelry, I didn’t
