Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I shook my head. “Maybe none of you have, but Kit went whenever she could. She found the rituals, the quiet, calming,” I said, passing along a piece of information their sister had shared with me, and deciding to add a bit of my own. “I’m sure she lit a few candles for each of you, so the least you can do is get out of the truck, go inside, and talk to the priest.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jay said from the backseat. “What are we supposed to tell him? ‘Excuse me, Father, no confession will clear my soul. I’m beyond absolution but Kit was pure… an angel. So maybe you can see fit to allow us to hold her service here?’”
“That’s perfect, Jay,” I said. “And, just so you know, no one is ever beyond God’s absolution, but since I’m a mere mortal, a sinner, if the three of you don’t get out of this truck right now, it might be a very long time before I forgive you.”
They climbed from the truck, Banks lifting me down. We walked into the beautiful church. It was clearly old, the stones chiseled by hand, the wooden pews crafted of dark wood, gleaming with oil and worn smooth by generations of worshippers. A man walked toward us, and I smiled. He reminded me of my grandfather. His hair was silver, his eyes blue, and his smile kind.
“Welcome,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s been far too long since I’ve seen you boys. I’m just sorry it has to be under such sad circumstances.”
The brothers might have been reluctant, but I’d known how very much they’d needed to do this. I had no doubt the church would never have refused to hold a service for Kit, but having them here, in a place where they could speak to a man of the cloth, to remember that God did not judge, was the first step to heal the deep wound, the hurt they all were feeling. Each of them visibly began to relax after shaking Father O’Leary’s hand. The priest took us into his office where we began the sad duty of planning Kit’s funeral.
“Thank you,” Rye said as we returned to the truck an hour later.
I stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I know how difficult this is, for all of you,” I said, turning to include my other two men.
“You are making it easier,” Jay said, his brothers nodding in agreement.
Two days later, we were back at the church. The sun was streaming through the stained-glass windows lining both side walls of the church as well as the large round window high above the altar. Bands of color fell over the white coffin, painting the hundreds of white lilacs soft yellows, blues, greens, purples, and rose. The scent of flowers hung in the air from the dozens of arrangements lining the front of the church and every pew was full. The entire town had turned out to say their last farewell to one of their own.
My fingers twisted together, my heart aching in my chest, but I was determined to show a brave face, to support Rye as he stood up from the pew where we were all seated. He was the patriarch of the family. Had faced difficult situations, made hard decisions, but I knew that right now, he was facing the toughest moment of his life. The church was silent, the sorrow palpable as he walked up the steps and turned to face the mourners. The pain was etched into his very being, his face drawn, his eyes haunted, the aching loss of his baby sister visible to all. After a moment, he unfolded a piece of paper, placing it on the lectern before him. But when he began to speak, his eyes weren’t focused on the words he’d written. They were looking at the coffin, each word spoken not to those seated in the church, but to the young woman who lay on a bed of white satin.
“From the moment you were born, Kit, you were our… our angel. Even when we brought ugliness into our home, you chose not to focus on it. You chose to believe people are kind… good to one another. I never heard you say a single harsh word about anyone. I watched you grow up, so full of joy, your smile so beautiful, your happiness so pure. When we lost our parents, we saw your heart break and yet, again, you chose to find the joy in knowing they hadn’t left us for good… that they are simply waiting until we’re together again. I-I’ve done nothing in my life to deserve the love you gave me… the life you sacrificed for me. I will never be able to… to forgive myself.” His voice broke and his eyes closed, his knuckles white where they clutched the edge of the lectern.