9
LEO
Ihate seeing Jillie standing over there alone, waiting for everything around her to get underway. An empty casket. I don’t think she’s going to accept that. If her previously shown tenacity is anything to go by, she’ll need something more as proof.
She walks up there so bravely, to the front, near the casket, and begins the eulogy. God in Heaven, I don’t know how she does it. She’s so pale and she’s lost weight.
Audrey and Isla start to cry silently unlike Jillie’s Aunt Leah. Her sobs could be heard a mile away. I can’t fault her. Their family has always been very close.
I wish I’d had the chance to meet him. He’d probably hate me on sight. Surfer boy, he’d think. But I’d prove him wrong.
Her words have me aching for her, my heart. I wish there was something I could do to help her.
When the Marines behind us shout their “oorah”, I see the tears she’s been trying so hard to hold back. I can’t let her fumble her way back. I won’t.
I get up and walk to her.
When she whispers my name, it’s full of gratitude and warmth.
“I’m here, baby. I’m here.” I carry her back to the chair reserved for her, but I don’t guide her to sit. Instead I gather her into my arms, sit, and hold her on my lap, allowing her some modicum of privacy.
When it’s over, I feel her stiffen.
“What’s wrong? What can I do?” I ask.
She shakes her head and looks at me. Her makeup is running down her face. I take the handkerchief my mother always told me was part of wearing a suit, and begin to wipe the black streaks away.
“I must look horrible. I vowed I wouldn’t cry until later. But when they saluted me in honor of my father… I just broke.”
“It’s alright. Let’s go up to the house and get cleaned up before everyone comes in to stuff their faces.”
She smirks. “I never understood that tradition. I suppose it’s a celebration of sorts. But wait until you see the food everyone in town’s sent over. Talk about comfort food.”
“Yeah? You been eating?” I ask.
She shrugs as we walk toward the house. “Some. I’ve been keeping busy helping muck out the stalls.”
“Eww,” Audrey says coming up behind us with Isla.
“Doesn’t it stink?” Isla asks.
“Oh yeah, no matter what you do, cow shit will always smell like cow shit,” Jillie answers. “I tie a bandana around my face to cover my mouth and nose, and if it’s a particularly bad day, I put a little Vicks beneath my nose. I learned that from Eddie. I’ll introduce you to him after I use the restroom. He manages the farm. Be right back.”
“She’s so pale,” Audrey tells me.
“I see it. She’s dealing with it in her own way, just like her Aunt Ruthie said. If the Psychiatrist Aunt isn’t worried, I’m not as worried as I was before,” I answer.
“But you’re still worried,” Isla counters.
“I’d be a heartless asshole if I wasn’t.”
“Speaking of heartless assholes,” Audrey begins. She tips her head to the side. “The guy over there with the heavily pregnant girl? Jillie’s ex.”
“How’d you know?” I ask.
“She has pictures of her life before Shell Beach, you know,” she replies.
“Knocked someone up. Lovely,” Isla says.
“Don’t be a snob. It happens. Remember Shayla Conners? And she came from a very wealthy family as did the guy she banged,” I remind her.
“True. I guess I’m just used to seeing people like us,” Isla says.
Jillie leans in. “I’ve got a secret for you. Trey’s family? They’re richer than you are.”
“Get out of town,” Isla replies.
“Serious as a heart attack. Where do you think your corn and milk come from? Farmers. You pay them for the product they grow,” Jillie whispers. “Think about it.”
She grins at me then slips her arm through mine. “Let’s go introduce you all to the family and friends.”
