“Now, just a minute here,” Stasia began, laughing.
“Okay, everybody ready to go?” Cole asked.
The rest of the crowd piled into cars, Josie sitting on one side of JJ, and John, driving his Jaguar, on the other side. They hadn’t even planned it. It just seemed right somehow.
They’d opened a grave at the local Methodist church cemetery. Wreaths and sprays of beautiful Christmassy flowers were perched all around the burial site. JJ burst into tears when he saw the casket with its beautiful blanket of white and red flowers on top.
Josie cuddled him while he cried. Then they filed in under the canopy where the seats were.
The minister smiled and gave a short speech about JJ’s dad and his love for his son and his hard work to keep the small family together. JJ was so impressed. So was Josie. She knew Cole or John had talked to the minister beforehand and summarized JJ’s father’s short life. It was a beautiful speech.
There was a prayer. The minister shook hands with everyone. Before they could get up, a small military unit arrived, all in uniform, rifles slung. They greeted the family and lined up past the casket, where the flag had remained draped, because JJ’s father was a combat army veteran.
The unit gave a twenty-one-gun salute, to JJ’s fascination. Afterward, they took the flag from the casket and folded it carefully into a thick, neat triangle. They presented it to JJ with words of commendation for his dad. JJ cried and thanked them all.
The ride home was quiet. Josie sat with her arm around JJ, who was strapped in between her and John in the front seat.
“It was real nice,” JJ said as they reached the house. “And the flowers were so pretty. And Dad got a flag.” He held the flag tight. “Those men said he was a hero.”
“He was,” John replied. “A brave man and a good father.”
“I know you’ll miss him, JJ,” Josie said softly. “But time heals.”
He smiled at her. “You lost your mama,” he said softly. “I guess it was hard for you. The funeral, I mean.”
He was so perceptive. She dropped a kiss on his hair, hiding her tears. “Funerals are hard,” she said, sounding choked.
Amazingly, John reached past JJ and curled his hand around Josie’s.
She looked at him through eyes veiled with tears.
“Time heals.” He repeated what she’d said. He smiled at her. And for the first time, it was a genuine smile.
When they got back to the house, JJ went in with Heather. John and Josie were at the end of the procession back inside.
She looked up at him. “You going to call the herpetologist about Precious?” she asked.
He nodded, looking down. “I know he’s just a snake. But I’m attached to him.”
She smiled gently. “I had all sorts of pets, too. And I loved all my pets that I lost. I had this huge husky, white with red points. He loved to jump in the snow, and we had a lot of it up in Wyoming where the ranch is—was,” she corrected. “My dad’s selling it,” she added quietly. “He said he’d have Mama’s grave moved. She’s buried there.”
He heard the pain in her voice. “You loved the ranch.”
She nodded. “But I can’t run a ranch,” she said sadly. “I just hope that somebody gets it who won’t sell all the cattle and plow up the land or build things on it that don’t belong there.”
His eyes narrowed. “That would be sad,” he said, and his mind was working already. He had contacts in real estate circles...
“Anyway, I had a husky. He was called Rikku, and I loved him dearly.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“He got cancer.” She looked down. “It spread to his bones. They said they might be able to save him if they cut off the infected leg and did chemo and radiation.” She smiled sadly. “But the vet told me that it wouldn’t save him. It would keep him alive.”
“And he’d just suffer longer,” John guessed.
She nodded, without speaking. She was too choked. She cleared her throat. “My mother died last year. She was in the hospital the week before she died, and I wasn’t able to be with her. I had this job...” She stopped short, about to betray herself. “My dad was off with some other woman, as usual, and I had no siblings. So when they released her from the hospital she was mostly alone. A maid found her on the floor one morning, already gone.” She smiled quietly. “I was away a lot when she needed me. But she never threw it up to me. After all, she sacrificed her family life for her job. It was what she expected people to do.”
He didn’t like the picture he was getting of her life. He wondered what sort of school she’d gone to. Reform school, maybe? “She sounds like a good woman.”
