STANDING AT THE pulpit felt wrong and weird. Any minute a bolt of lightning would strike me down, incinerating me into a messy pile of ash on the red carpet of the quaint Methodist church where my family had been baptized, married, and eulogized for generations. I took a deep breath, trailed my hands through my hair, and stroked my beard. The words on the page blurred together in fuzzy, blank ink caterpillars. A few coughs and the rustling of clothing against the pews were the only sounds as I stood still and tried to not lose my shit.
When I lifted my head and blinked at the crowd, familiar faces stood out. My mother and grandmother smiled encouragingly. I returned their smiles. John, wearing a suit, sat with Diane behind the rows of family. He nodded and Diane gave me a thumbs-up. I scanned the crowd for familiar green eyes rimmed in brown.
Ashley sat a few rows from the back and gave me a little wave. Across the aisle from her was Caroline, my high school girlfriend, and her parents. Two rows ahead sat Debra and her friend. Both made exaggerated sad expressions and tears ran down their faces. A few other women I’d slept with over the years sat with their families or husbands. The reception after this thing was going to be awkward.
Quickly focusing elsewhere, I found Hailey sitting near the Kelso brothers. A familiar older couple flanked her. Must be her parents. She nodded and tilted her head, waiting for me to begin. My gaze flicked to the standing people at the rear of the filled to capacity church. Kurt stood with a group of other men in suits. I would have missed him completely had he not been short enough to stand in front of his taller companions. My brow furrowed. What was he doing here? Did he know my grandfather?
I stared down at the eulogy my mother had asked me to read. It highlighted Pops’ time in the service, his work with the Lions, Eagles, VFW, Rotary and every other community organization he’d participated in over his long life. Was it really a long life? Not long enough for me.
I met my dad’s eyes and he gave me his patented ‘let’s get on with it’ look: chin tucked, arms crossed, and an eyebrow arched. He hated funerals and wearing a suit as much as I did.
I tugged my tie near the knot and cleared my throat. I found Hailey’s eyes again in the crowd and formed a small, closed smile only for her.
“Clifford Joseph Donnely, my grandfather, was a great man. One of a long line of Donnely men who settled, farmed, and worked hard to make this island what it is today. He did right by the land and people of Whidbey.
“Clifford was also a ladies’ man, according to my grandmother, the beautiful Ellie Donnely. The ladies lined up at the dances, waiting their turn with Handsome Cliff. But he only ever had eyes for her, the woman who still made him smile and the rest of us blush over his inability to keep their PDA respectable in front of the children.”
A few people chuckled and Gramma hushed me from her aisle seat a few feet away before giggling and fluttering her hands around her face. Mission accomplished.
After my ad-libbed lines, I followed Mom’s notes, adding how much he’d be missed by his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, who would only know him through the stories we told. Mom patted my leg when I took Dad’s spot next to her as he said a few words, then invited everyone to the farmhouse for a reception and a chance to share more stories about Clifford after the burial.
Too many people were congregating under the heat lamps as mourners spilled out of the house on the wraparound porch and deck. All these people were here because of one man. At least fifty of them were related to him by blood or marriage. The Donnelys had been a prolific bunch of breeders in my grandparents’ generation. Some remote cousins introduced themselves for the first time. A whole flock of third cousins—or were they second cousins once removed—stood around telling stories about the family tree, and who was related to whom. I lurked in the shadows on the side porch overlooking the shipping lanes and watched a cargo ship head out to sea as I drank a bottle of beer. I hadn’t bothered to read the label when I pulled it from the icy water of the drinks’ bucket.
On the other side of the window, my sisters and mother moved through the crowd in their black dresses, picking up plates, handing out napkins, and patting arms, frowning and nodding their heads in sympathy.
I still wore my suit jacket, but the tie sat on the seat of my truck, rolled up and soon to be tucked away until the next funeral. Hopefully it would be a long time coming.
I sipped and swallowed the cold liquid, not thinking or focusing on more than getting through this circus long enough until I could hide away in the woods again.
Ashley’s laughter cackled over the more somber conversation on the far side of the porch. I slunk further against the house, happy this corner was out of the sight-line from the main section. I cringed as footsteps from the opposite direction came closer. I braced myself with my “sad, but thank you for your kind words” face and hoped it wasn’t one of the women from the crowd at the church. I’d managed to avoid Ashley other than a quick hug after the service.
“I brought you a beer.” John’s deep voice announced his arrival a few steps before he rounded the corner.
“How’d you find me?” I took the beer, setting my empty bottle on the floor.
“We used to hide in this spot as kids when your grandparents lived here. Best hiding corner because you can see inside the living room through the window and hear people coming from either direction with enough time to jump the railing into those rhododendron bushes.”
“I forgot about hiding in those bushes. Or jumping the railing. We’re lucky we didn’t break more bones.”
“You doing okay?” he asked.
I exhaled and nodded.
He took a long draught of beer. “It’s okay if you’re not. Clifford was everyone’s favorite real adult. Damn, I’m going to miss that man.”
Fighting the creeping tears, I raised my bottle. “To Clifford.”
Our bottles clinked together and we fell into silence. Two grown men hiding in our childhood spot with no need to say anything more.
Laughter echoed from the big group under the heaters and he raised an eyebrow. “Is that Ashley?”
I scratched my jaw and nodded. “Damn island feels pretty fucking tiny today. Seems everyone knew Pops.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, you must have felt like a mouse in a room full of cats at church. Saw Caroline and Ashley there along with a few other flames of yours. I was happy they didn’t break out into a cat-fight over who got to console poor Tom.”
He’d left out Hailey and the others he didn’t know about.
I rested my bottle on the window ledge and rubbed my hands up and over my face, running them through my hair before reversing the gesture a couple of times. “You ever feel like your life hit a brick wall?”
“Yeah. I could say I have.”
Oh shit. “Sorry. Of course you’d know the feeling.”
“No problem. What’s your point?”
“I’m not really sure. Remember at the bonfire how Pops talked about his life? He had a wife and a bunch of kids at our age, responsibilities, the farm, a business. I feel like a stupid punk compared to him. What do I have to show for thirty-three years walking around on this rock?”
“A bunch of kids you don’t know about?”
I bumped his shoulder with my fist hard enough to knock him off balance a little. “Asshole. Seriously.”
“You gave me that speech last year about relationships being work and not for you. Now you’re going to settle down? Find yourself a nice girl who doesn’t know about your catting around? Maybe a nice Mennonite or a pretty Canadian?”
“Like a mail-order bride?”
His low laughter made me smile. “Do those exist anymore?”
“How would I know?” I smiled smugly. “Right. No, not about women. I’m observing my life and not coming up with much I can claim as mine. Feel like I need a change.”
“Change of scenery?”
“Yeah. Maybe? I don’t know. Something.” I didn’t tell him how unmoored and adrift I felt over the past week. “Maybe I need to take off in the boat and go to the San Juans. Get away.”
“Your mom would be pissed if you disappeared at Christmas.”
“Damn, I forgot about Christmas. Shit. That’s going to be depressing.”
“I don’t envy you. The first holidays and birthdays are the roughest. You can come to my Aunt and Uncle’s. She’ll feed you until you explode or pass out on the couch, unable to move for days.”
Footsteps sounded on the wood boards of the porch and we both reflexively leaned further into the shadows.
Diane appeared around the corner. “Are you two hiding?” She stepped next to John and he rested his arm over her shoulders so she could tuck herself against his side. More footsteps followed her, and Hailey stopped a few feet away.
“Hi, Idaho,” John greeted her.
She gave me a small, knowing smile. “You need a beer?” She handed me a fresh bottle.
John’s eyes flicked to my face when she joined our group, but he didn’t say anything. The three of them talked about holiday plans while I stood in silence, half listening and half staring at my family through the window. Mom met my eyes from across the living room and waved. She mouthed “need anything” and I held up my beer. She pantomimed eating. I shook my head and gave her my patented sad smile.
“We should have a party on New Year’s,” Diane said.
“I hate New Year’s.” John frowned.
“Me too,” Hailey said.
“Tom’s always up for a party.” Diane teased, attempting to lighten the mood.
I shrugged, not sure if I’d be in the party or leave me alone mood in a few weeks.
“Party?” a new voice joined our conversation.
Ashley. Of course.
“Is there an after party? I’m always up for a party,” she said. I nearly choked on my beer. John patted my back with his big bear paw until I stopped choking.
“It’s a little wrong to be so excited about a party when you’ve attended a funeral a few hours earlier, don’t you think? And since when do funeral receptions have after parties? ” Hailey asked.
“Who asked you?” Ashley snarked at Hailey. “No one said you had to go the party.”
“There’s no party. After this or otherwise,” John clarified. He shot me a look over Ashley’s shoulder I read loud and clear. I raised my shoulders and begged him with my eyes. “Hey, do you know where they put out the pigs in a blanket?”
I scrunched up my face. That was what he came up with?
“I think all the food’s in the dining room,” Diane said, oblivious to the faces John and I were making at each other. Unfortunately, Hailey and Ashley weren’t.
“What’s wrong with your face, Tom?” Hailey asked.
I sighed. “Nothing. I’m not feeling the fancy weenies right now.”
“Oh, you must be starving,” Ashley cooed while keeping her eyes on Hailey, who narrowed her eyes at Ashley’s hand on my arm. “I should get you some food.”
If I didn’t create a distraction, Ashley’s girl senses would start tingling and she’d ask questions I didn’t want to answer. An awkward silence fell over the group.
“Sounds like a great idea. Why don’t you go make Tom a plate?” Diane said, her eyes bouncing between Ashley and Hailey.
Ashley was stuck. She’d suggested getting me food. With a sigh and a sidelong glance at Hailey, she plastered on a smile and said, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Inside, I observed her speaking with my mother, who then glanced at me and headed into the dining room. I probably had five minutes before she returned.
“I gotta take a piss. While I’m gone, anyone need a beer?” I took the long away around, avoiding the crowd, and went upstairs to the hall bathroom.
Someone knocked three times.
“Occupied,” I yelled, turning on the faucet to wash my hands.
They knocked again.
“Hold on a minute.” Wiping my hands on one of the fancy guest towels, I checked out my appearance in the mirror. I had dark circles under my eyes and my beard had grown scruffy, but damn, I looked handsome in a suit.
Another knock, and I scowled. “Give a person a minute to . . .” I swung open the door, “piss.”
Ashley stood there, smiling. “Water sports have never been my thing.” She gently pushed me further into the bathroom.
“Hey, Ashley.” I smiled and plotted how to extract myself from the bathroom and this situation. She’d always been cool, but this felt like an ambush.
Her hand rested on the lapels of my suit jacket. “You never wear a suit.”
“I know.”
“You look good, Tom. Really good.”
I gently grabbed her arms in order to switch our positions, placing myself closer to the door and freedom.
“Where are you going? I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Everyone loved Pops. I’m here if you need a shoulder to cry on. That’s all I’m saying.”
My hand found the knob behind me and turned it. “Hey, let’s not do this now.” Thoughts and words spun through my mind as I attempted to escape with both our dignities intact. “I like you, Ashley, but my head’s in a weird space now. And I think I realized last month as much fun as we’ve had in the past, maybe we’re better off as more casual friends.”
Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. Combined with her long, red curls, her expression personified the term “seeing red.” “Are you seeing that Hailey chick?”
My foot caught in the door as I attempted to swing it open. “Why would you ask about her?”
“She’s always hanging around you. Halloween and now showing up for your grandfather’s funeral.”
“Right. And she’s Lori’s best friend. Maybe that explains it? Stop with the jealousy and suspicion. It doesn’t suit you.”
Leaving her standing there, I bounded down the stairs and smack into Hailey and Diane. Both their eyes were fixed to a spot above me on the landing. Reluctantly, I turned to see Ashley fixing her hair and wiping her mouth. The implications of her actions were evident on both Hailey and Diane’s faces.
I closed my eyes and inhaled, my hands balling into fists by my sides. “It’s not what it seems,” I ground out through clenched teeth.
Diane rolled her eyes while Hailey shook her head.
Not now, I wasn’t doing this drama now. I brushed past them and out into the cold air of the dark winter afternoon. Striding across the lawn, I found myself on the porch of my grandparents’ little house. The old wooden swing called to me and I sat, pushing myself with my legs. From here I could see cars pull down the long driveway as guests left. When the number of cars on the lawn and circle drive petered down to less than a handful, I slowly strolled back to the main house.
Inside, my mother hovered over a team of women helping to clean the kitchen. I picked a sandwich off a tray and shoved half of it in my mouth. I found my father, sisters, and Gramma in the family room.
I stole a handful of chips from a bowl on the side table and settled on the floor next to the fireplace. An easy conversation continued around me while I ate. No one asked me questions or commented on my absence.
A short while later, Gramma yawned and everyone fussed over her. I offered to walk her home. We set off across the wide lawn, her arm tucked in mine. Her head reached only as high as my bicep but her grip belied her strength.
“Pops would have enjoyed today. It’s always a shame we can’t attend our own funerals to hear all of the nice things people have to say about us. When we’re alive we might get told how pretty our hair is or how nice our children are, but we typically only hear the bad things, the gossip and the criticism.”
I nodded and patted her arm. “He would have been annoyed with everyone eating all his food and stomping around his house, snooping.”
“I swear some of those people I met for the first time today.” Her laughter brightened the darkness. “A couple of men even gave me their business cards. Can you imagine? At a funeral? My gosh, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Did you know any of them? Recognize them?”
“No, I don’t think so. Although one of the men seemed familiar. Very nice fellow. I think he grew up here.”
I let the subject drop. Maybe someone else saw the exchange and could put names to the suits.
We arrived at her porch, and once she had the door open and the lights on, I stepped inside to kiss her cheek goodnight.
A little framed sampler needlepoint-stitch-thing hung next to the door. I peered at the familiar frame, reading the words for the first time: “A chuisle mo chroí.”
“The pulse of my heart,” I translated the familiar words of Hailey’s tattoo.
“I’d always thought it meant ‘my love.’ I made it for your grandfather when we were newlyweds.”
My love. Such sentimental words for a tomboy like Hailey. Hidden near her heart, over her lungs, I’d missed the deeper meaning.
“It’s a bit of sentimental stitching, but Clifford insisted it was the best present he’d ever received.”
I kissed her cheek goodnight. “He loved you more than words.”
She held my hand to her skin for a moment. “Don’t feel too sorry for your old Gramma. Clifford and I had a long life together, and all this is the outcome of our love.” She patted my cheek. “I’ll be okay.”
I knew she would be. The question was, would I?