Dinner was a chunky tomato soup and crusty French bread that had been toasted in the oven with cheese on top. It was delicious, comforting, and melted the last of the ice from my mind. My brain began to move again, if sluggishly.
When I set aside my bowl and picked up my glass of wine, Jordan looked at me, his eyes intent on my face. “You look better now,” he commented.
“I feel better.” I stared into the fire. “How did I look before?” I asked absently.
“Cold, maybe even shattered. You scared me.”
I nodded, sipping my wine. “I don’t handle death well, I’m afraid,” I stated.
“Not many people do,” he replied, laying his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers toying with the ends of my hair.
“That’s true, I suppose,” I agreed. “It’s just that this was so….unexpected and I considered Milton a friend as well as my boss.”
Nodding, Jordan twisted toward me. “I didn’t know him all that well, but what I did know of him was good.”
“He was a good man.”
“Tell me about him,” Jordan invited.
Even though it hurt, I did. I talked for a long time, telling stories about Milton. Some of them made me laugh. A few made me cry.
But when I was done, I felt lighter. Better. As if Jordan had taken the heaviest portion of my grief onto his own shoulders.
The day ofthe funeral was cool and sunny. A perfect early spring day in north Texas. There were hundreds of people crammed into the church where his service was held.
The firm was closed for the day so that the employees could attend the funeral. My father wanted to come but was unable to change his schedule. He did manage to attend the wake and give Lucille his condolences.
As I sat between Jordan and Cynthia, I tried to focus on the words that the reverend spoke, but I struggled. Time and again, my gaze returned to Lucille, who sat still and pale on the front row, her eyes trained on the coffin covered with a cascade of flowers.
In a slow, steady stream, tears trickled down her cheeks, but she never blinked them away. She kept her eyes trained on the coffin, even as the service came to a close and the pallbearers moved toward it. As they lifted it, her eyes slowly shut, as if she couldn’t bear to watch them carry it from the church.
People began to file out of the church once the coffin was placed in the hearse, some loitering near the doors and others moving toward their cars. Jordan placed his hand on my lower back and guided me to his car. I knew many people wouldn’t be attending the graveside service, but I wanted to be there.
The crowd wasn’t as large at the cemetery, which wasn’t surprising. It was mostly family and Milton’s close friends, as well as several junior and senior partners from the firm. Jordan and I stood toward the back of the group as the reverend delivered another short service.
Once again, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Lucille, from the pure heartbreak that screamed from every line of her body. She was so silent and still that I feared she would break if she moved.
It was the moment they began to lower the coffin into the ground that she shattered. I watched it happen, her face crumpling slowly and the long, low wail that emerged from her throat. Her daughter and son moved in, wrapping their arms around her as they all sobbed together.
Finally, I tore my eyes away from them as they cried, unable to face such grief. Jordan touched my back then, leaning over to whisper in my ear.
“We should go and let them say goodbye privately.”
I nodded and let him lead me to the car. After he helped me into the passenger seat, I looked out the window, back toward Milton’s grave and saw that Lucille and her children were still wrapped around each other though their tears had subsided.
Then I turned to look at Jordan, watching his hands as he steered the car out of the cemetery.
I realized then that I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t love someone as much as I loved him and say good-bye. Losing my mother had hurt so badly I thought I would never recover. I couldn’t face losing Jordan the same way.
He could be gone in an instant and I would never get him back.
I couldn’t go through what Lucille was experiencing. I knew that horrible, all-consuming grief and I would never survive it again.
Never again.
