Emma stood in the open doorway of the kitchen, sorrow clouding her eyes. “It was hard, I won’t lie. I wish you’d been there, but doing this with all these kids would have been nuts. I made the mistake of taking Tanner, and he insisted that Grandpa loved blue, so he chose sky blue for the inside of the casket. I’m not sure how well that’s going to go over at the funeral.”
Angela smiled, loving her oldest nephew even more. “Well, our father can rest easy knowing he’s in a brightly colored casket that one of his grandsons chose.”
Emma sat down, and Angela noticed the weight of troubling emotions in her mannerisms. She quickly got Emma a bottle of water and some food. “Here, rest. That was probably more than I could have handled right now.”
“Oh, Angela.” Emma covered her face with her hands, crying softly. “It was awful to go through that. It’s so hard to think that in two days we’ll have to do this with everyone, see him like that, knowing he’s not here. I mean, it's been years since I’ve lived at home, but you never imagine they won’t be there, you know.”
Through the open doorway, Angela saw her brother-in-law, his eyes fixed on Emma, with concern in them. “I understand, but you are doing great, and you have me and everyone else here. Don’t feel you have to do this alone. He was my father, too.”
“I know, and that’s why I want your help with the rest of the stuff. That was the hardest part today, but we have to figure out the church, the location afterward, flowers, his outfit—my goodness, I can’t.”
Angela, overwhelmed with her own regrets, was grateful that Steven and the kids were busy. She wrapped her sister in her arms, and they cried together. Quietly, she vowed to spend more time with her sister and her family.
Life was changing faster than she could keep up. “We only have each other now.” Angela left out the part that hit home for her—she’d only ever had Emma. Her relationship with her father had died long ago.
“We also have to clean up after this is all over. I can’t even think that far ahead right now. I feel like I might crumble if I try. I was looking at the family photos on the wall, and all these memories flooded back to me.”
“Oh, Emma, I’m sorry. I know being here has brought a lot of feelings to the surface. It's different for me, too.”
While she spoke, Angela waved her brother-in-law over, knowing he would be needed soon. “I’m here for you as you’ve always been for me and Steven. Why don’t you go rest?”
Angela turned to her sister just as her husband entered the room. “Can you handle the kitchen for a bit, Brandon?”
He made a face. “As if, sis. Come on. I got this. I run an entire ranch filled with people. My brood knows better than to act up, and Steven, well, he’s grown. Take her upstairs and get her some rest.”
Angela led the way, Emma’s hand slipping from her husband's shoulder as she moved. Arm in arm, the sisters slowly made their way up the stairs, and they were met with silence at the stairwell.
She knew for a fact that all eyes were on them, as Emma’s children were concerned for their mother’s well-being. Angela waved it off with her hand. “Your mom just needs to rest—we both do. We’ll be down in a bit, and your dad is in the kitchen.”
Before they reached the top landing and turned the corner, the music played again, game systems restarted, and life went on.
The next morning, Angela left Emma behind with her husband as she went out to handle the other details for their father’s funeral, with Steven and Emma’s other kids, Eve and Wyatt. “I think Grandpa would’ve loved this suit,” Wyatt said.
Eyes locking on the car ahead of her, Angela tapped her hand on the suit bag she was carrying. “Yes, he always loved the plaid one.”
She bit her tongue, remembering the shoes the seventeen-year-old Wyatt had picked out, since he had been given the task to prevent any fights with Emma’s children. The bow tie was a bit much, but inside her heart, laughter threatened to burst forth as little Eve thought Grandpa would love wearing his high school class ring.
Remembering the night before when she demanded a say in what her favorite grandpa wore, Brandon had been fit to be tied. Steven wanted no part of it, as he barely knew the man.
“I don’t see why any of this matters. He’s not alive anymore. It's not like anyone’s going to care,” Steven said.
Amused by the little firecrackers' will, Angela stepped back to watch the brief spectacle as little Eve went toe-to-toe with her son. “He has to look his best!”
She ignored the raised eyebrows as the funeral director examined what was offered. “Well, it's certainly going to be a memorable outfit.”
Wyatt grinned. “So it should be. I was going to say he should wear a cowboy hat, too. We all wear them back at the ranch, but Mom talked me out of it. Grandpa didn’t live on a ranch.”
“I picked out the ring, and it's perfect. Make sure you do his hair like this.” Little Eve, who didn’t truly understand or belong at a funeral home, handed over a photo of her grandpa, pride shining in her eyes. “He needs his hair perfect so everyone can see how handsome he is.”
Angela kept her mouth closed, refusing to look in her son’s direction for the eye-popping spectacle running through his mind. “Well, if that covers it, children, we are headed to the church now.”
An hour later, Angela could barely control her laughter as Wyatt and Eve strolled past the church’s stone walls, while Steven quietly walked through the graveyard nearby. “Quite a bunch you’ve got, Angela. Didn’t realize you had such a big family.”
“Oh, Pastor Clemons, those two are my niece and nephew. They are Emma’s children. Steven over there is my son, my only child. Wyatt, please don’t climb on that, please.”
“Aw, come on, Aunt Angela.”
“You listen to Aunt Angela. She’s in charge!” Eve stood at the ready, hands on her hips, directing her brother like a seasoned veteran.
