by Maria Siano
Faith sprang up next to Summer. "Kyle, I can’t believe you’re actually here! I wondered if I dreamed you visited me in the hospital. If Summer didn’t write an article about it, I wouldn’t have believed it. She’s my witness, though. It did really happen."
Kyle gave Faith a pat on the back. "It’s good to see you doing so well."
Faith blushed. "After a year of treatments and wondering if I would recover, it feels great to be working and focusing on something other than cancer. I finally started at the Spring Valley Environmental Group a week ago. It’s my dream job."
Kyle nodded. "Right." He widened his stance. "I read in Summer’s article that you were involved in environmental work."
"I found the perfect job for me," Faith said.
Kyle grinned. "I’m sure you’ll be a great advocate for the organization. Your enthusiasm is infectious."
Faith put her hand on Summer’s shoulder. "Please show Kyle where the bar is," she whispered. "And get a drink yourself, too. I know you’re working tonight, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun." Faith winked at Summer and then waved to her mother across the room.
As Faith trotted toward Caitlin, Summer led Kyle to the bar. Yes. This job has been a lot of fun lately, Summer thought.
CHAPTER 4
Summer flicked on her computer and logged into her email account. A slew of unread emails waited. As usual.
She skimmed the fifty messages for any needing immediate attention before her phone interview with the mayor at 10:30 that morning.
A message from Caitlin Sheridan halfway down the list caught her eye. The subject line read: Our daughter, Faith.
In the three weeks since the benefit dinner for Faith, Summer hadn’t spoken to Caitlin, or Faith. They didn’t have any other interviews scheduled any time soon either.
A sharp pain shot through Summer’s side as she clicked open the message. About twenty other email addresses were listed in the "To" section.
Friends:
We’re deeply saddened to tell you that our daughter, Faith, died last night. She developed an infection in her chemo port and passed away at Grace Hospital.
Please keep us in your thoughts as we try to cope with this devastating loss.
Caitlin and Patrick Sheridan
Summer drew in a breath. It can’t be.
She reread the message. How did this happen? Faith was so full of life at the benefit dinner just weeks ago. Done with chemo treatments. Working in her dream job.
Her life was back to normal.
Through the tears welling up in her eyes, Summer checked the clock on the wall. She needed to call the mayor about the revitalization project planned for the downtown area.
She wiped her eyes and reviewed the interview questions in her notebook. Then she dialed the mayor’s number.
She took a deep breath as the phone rang on the other end.
After mechanically conducting the interview, Summer hung up and checked her email inbox again. Another message from Caitlin sat at the top of the list.
Summer hoped to find it had all been a mistake, a mix-up. Faith was perfectly fine, and healthy. She inhaled as she opened the message:
Summer,
John Jenkins is organizing a memorial service for Faith on March 15th at his family’s funeral home in town. We’d love for you to attend.
Caitlin
Summer hit "Reply."
Caitlin,
I’m so sorry for your loss. I’d be honored to attend the memorial service. I’m sure my editor will want me to cover it for the paper. Is it OK if I write an article about it?
Summer
***
Memorial Service Planned for
Spring Valley Resident Faith Sheridan
By Summer Madison
SPRING VALLEY OBSERVER Staff Writer
SPRING VALLEY — A public memorial service in honor of Spring Valley resident Faith Sheridan, who battled Hodgkin’s and died last month at age 23, will be held Friday, March 15, at 7 p.m.
An environmental activist, a month before her death Sheridan began working as an environmental educator with the Spring Valley Environmental Group.
At the memorial service, residents will also be able to donate to a fund created to help the family with unpaid medical bills and funeral costs.
"We are grateful to all those who have offered their support to us as we grieve the loss of our daughter," said Patrick Sheridan, a general contractor who lost his job with a local builder a few months ago, after the builder filed for bankruptcy. "Without all of the generous donations from the community, we would have already lost our home."
John Jenkins, owner of the Jenkins Funeral Home and a long-time neighbor of the Sheridans, is donating the facility for the memorial service. He is also organizing the fundraising efforts.
"Patrick has meant a lot to this community," Jenkins said. "He’s been a volunteer firefighter in Spring Valley for more than 20 years. Now he needs our help and we can’t let him down."
The Jenkins Funeral Home is located at 145 Main Street.
***
Summer opened the door to the funeral home. The crowd filled the lobby, but she managed to push her way inside the entrance.
She slipped in between the people milling around the room as she attempted to cross the lobby.
A familiar face stood out among the crowd. What’s he doing here? Summer drew in a deep breath as she watched Kyle meander between the circles of people.
It had been weeks since they last talked at the benefit for Faith back in February. She thought he had returned to Los Angeles, for good.
In the past few weeks, every time she tuned in to an entertainment show, Kyle’s face popped up on the television screen, on Access Hollywood, Entertainment Tonight, Extra. And all of the interviews were done from Los Angeles studios, which brought her a sense of relief — to know he was back in Hollywood, and out of her life.
Since Faith’s death, she had started to rethink Kyle’s motives for visiting Faith in the hospital. She wondered if it was just a publicity stunt, after all.
Kyle spotted Summer and waved.
She waved back as he continued to zigzag between the clusters of people huddled across the lobby.
As he continued to shuffle toward her, trying to clear a path among the crowd, a shrill sound echoed behind her.
"Summer! Can I get a minute? I need to talk to you."
The sound grated through the din of the crowd. And Summer didn’t have to turn around to place the gravely voice.
It belonged to only one person. Maxine, Kyle’s publicist.
The last person Summer wanted to talk to.
"Hi, Maxine." Summer forced a smile, to be polite. As a reporter, everything she did in public reflected on the Observer in some way. She never forgot that. "Nice of you to attend to support the Sheridans at this difficult time."
Maxine hovered close to Summer. "You know Kyle’s new film is about to open in a few weeks." She reached for Summer’s elbow. "How about including him in the article you’re writing about this event?"
Summer yanked her arm away as Maxine recited her standard pitch. How dare she use the tragedy of Faith’s sudden death to try to get Kyle’s name in the paper again? Hadn’t Kyle already gotten enough publicity by attaching himself to Faith?
Summer didn’t want to believe Kyle would use Faith’s illness, and now her death, to publicize his new film. But she didn’t really know him anymore. If she ever did.
Summer pretended to listen as Maxine jabbered on, but she tuned out as much of Maxine’s voice as she could as she stretched her neck to peer over the crowd to look for Kyle. She had lost sight of him with Maxine’s interruption.
As Summer peeked over her shoulder, Kyle brushed up beside her.
Maxine stopped talking — finally — and stepped
away.
Then Kyle leaned forward and rested his hand on Summer’s shoulder. "Good to see you, Summer." He leaned in further and kissed her on the cheek.
Summer’s heart jumped. "I’m surprised you’re here." The kiss surprised her, too, but she tried not to let on.
"I just got in from LA this afternoon." He lowered his head. Then he looked up at Summer. "I sent you an email about an hour ago."
Summer normally checked her email messages obsessively, but she needed to complete two other interviews before attending the memorial service. "It’s been a crazy day," she admitted. "I haven’t even thought about checking my messages all afternoon, which might be a first for me."
Kyle gripped Summer’s arm. "I’d love to get together while I’m in town." He lowered his hand. "Why don’t we go inside to make plans..." He pointed toward the side room.
Summer shook her head. "I need to speak to a few more people first for my article." Stay focused. Don’t be charmed. Not this time. "But when I’m done I’ll try to find you."
Kyle touched Summer’s arm again. "I’ll save a seat for you next to me."
As Kyle stepped away, Maxine approached again. "Summer, let’s schedule an interview for an article about Wreckless..."
Summer held up her hand. "I’ll talk to my editor, and I’ll get back to you." Even though her tone sounded harsh, she didn’t regret being so forceful. She couldn’t let Maxine turn the event into a publicity stunt.
Caitlin and Patrick headed for the doorway into the viewing room, and the rest of the crowd in the lobby started to follow behind them, quickly filing into the small room. Summer lingered in the less-crowded foyer as she reviewed her notes. She strolled past a long line of people waiting at the donation table and then stepped into the viewing room.
The set-up, typical for a wake, included a narrow aisle separating two groups of chairs, about fifty on each side.
An empty seat on the aisle next to Kyle caught Summer’s eye and she moved toward him, glad he chose the back row so her notetaking during the service wouldn’t distract anyone.
When she reached Kyle’s row, he pulled the empty chair back slightly and motioned for her to sit down. He leaned toward her as she sat and he started to whisper something. Summer couldn’t hear him and leaned closer. But before he could answer, a Catholic priest came in and everyone grew silent.
Summer leaned away from Kyle and straightened in the chair.
The service began with several prayers and two Scripture readings. Then Faith’s 21-year-old brother, Mark, walked to the center of the aisle to give a eulogy. Summer jotted a few notes as Mark spoke:
"Faith seemed determined not to show her pain. I would often try to talk to her about her treatments, to be supportive, but she never wanted to talk about her illness." Summer flipped to the next blank page in her notebook.
"...Faith never complained and she worried more about how her illness might be affecting my parents and me than how it had so drastically changed her life..."
Then Mark stopped talking.
Summer glanced up as he doubled over and Caitlin jumped to her feet from the front row and hurried to him.
Mark held up his hand to stop her but Caitlin ignored her son’s gesture and wrapped him in her arms.
In the silence, a chill raced up Summer’s spine and she started to shiver. Tears started to form, but she managed to blink them back as Caitlin returned to her seat and Mark continued the eulogy.
Summer closed her notebook and listened to the rest of Mark’s tribute to Faith.
***
When the service ended, people struggled to move around the crowded room, criss-crossing in different directions. Some were trying to make their way to the Sheridans at the front of the room, and others pushed their way toward the back of the room.
Summer stepped into a long line and shuffled toward the back doorway.
Kyle followed beside her. "Did you see Tyler?" he asked as they inched forward in the line.
Summer glanced at Kyle. "I guess I missed him." Were Kyle’s watery eyes a sign of jetlag from his flight in from LA? Summer wondered. Or had Mark’s emotional speech moved him, too?
Kyle pressed up against Summer as a few people squeezed by them. "Tyler left just as the service ended," Kyle confirmed as he held both of Summer’s arms while more people rushed past them.
"Oh —" Summer stepped to her left to separate herself from Kyle.
"Hey, I wanted to ask you..." Kyle hesitated and lowered his head. "Tyler’s in a band with some people we went to high school with. I’ll be going to see them perform at Rockafella’s tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?"
"Sure. Sounds like fun." Summer stopped with a jolt. The answer had flown out of her mouth, before she had time to think about it. Something she found herself doing a lot around Kyle lately. "Should I meet you there?" she asked.
"How about if I swing by your house around 7:30?" Kyle’s eyes widened.
"Okay." Summer flipped through her notebook and started to compose a rough draft of the article in her mind.
Kyle pointed to the notebook. "So, do you know what you’ll write about yet?"
She flipped to the next page. "I have a general idea." She read through the notes scribbled in all different directions across the long, narrow page. "I’ll focus on the turnout... There have to be at least 200 people here... And the donations already total more than $20,000." She flipped to another page. "But I have to emphasize that the Sheridans still need much more to cover all of Faith’s medical bills. Especially now that they have funeral costs, too. By my calculations, they’ll still need at least another $175,000. Since Patrick just lost his job—"
Kyle touched the top of her hand.
Summer stopped rifling through the notebook pages. "I just hope I can write an article that will inspire people to make a donation." She peered up at Kyle. "The Sheridans have been through so much in the past year—"
"Your article will help." He covered her hand with his.
Summer glanced down and caught the time on her watch. "It’s 8:30 already? I really need to get back to the newsroom. I have to submit this article tonight. My editor wants it in tomorrow’s paper. I don’t have much time." She maneuvered through an opening in the line.
Kyle stuck close behind Summer as they pushed their way into the lobby.
"Oh!" Summer stopped walking and pointed to the far corner of the lobby. "I need to talk to John Jenkins for a minute," she yelled back to Kyle, hoping he could hear her over the noise of the swarming lobby.
Kyle cupped his hands. "No problem," he shouted back. He continued to follow behind her, toward the table with the "Donations" sign across the front.
When they reached John, Summer flipped through her notebook to find an empty page.
"I’d like to make a donation, Mr. Jenkins," Kyle said.
"Wonderful, Kyle!" John raised his hands.
Of course John knows Kyle’s name, even without a formal introduction. Summer couldn’t help but smile. Kyle’s press tour for Wreckless during the past few weeks had evidently produced the intended results. People knew his face, and his name, again.
John guided Kyle to the table. "You can make a check out to The Faith Sheridan Medical Fund. Or, we have a laptop set up here where you can make a donation by credit or debit card through the fund’s website." John pointed to the computer on the table.
Kyle stepped closer to the table. "I’ll use the website."
While Kyle completed the online transaction, Summer tried to read the computer screen, but she didn’t have a clear view. She noticed John glancing at the screen every few seconds, too. Did he have a better view? Summer wondered as she found an empty page in her notebook. "John, can I ask you a few more questions for the article? It’ll just take a few minutes."
"Sure." John moved to the end of the table.
&nb
sp; Summer stepped into a narrow hallway, farther from the noise of the crowd so they wouldn’t have to strain too much to hear each other. "Do you have a current total of the donations?" She held her pen in mid-air.
John grinned. "Well, with Kyle’s generous donation, it looks like we should be able to cover all of the Sheridans’ unpaid medical bills." He leaned toward Summer. "Kyle just donated $200,000!"
Summer tried to hide her disbelief as she wrote the amount in her notebook.
John continued to talk about the fundraising campaign and about Kyle’s generosity, but Summer’s mind grew foggy.
Half-listening to John, Summer watched Kyle wander away from the table and cross the lobby, stopping near the entrance.
Kyle paced back and forth in front of the door, somehow managing to find the only uncrowded spot in the room.
Summer’s scrambled mind struggled to focus on John’s words, but she continued to mechanically record his comments in her notebook, as other thoughts rushed through.
Why did Kyle make such a large donation to the Sheridans, when he barely knew them? And why did I agree to a date with him?
Patrick Sheridan breezed past Summer, bringing her out of her daydream. Her eyes followed Patrick across the lobby.
He appeared to almost stomp across the room as he pushed through the crowd.
Was he heading straight for Kyle? Summer’s chest tightened as Patrick continued in Kyle’s direction. No. No. He couldn’t be. Not with the tension between them at the benefit dinner for Faith back in February. Patrick wouldn’t confront Kyle at the memorial for Faith.
Or would he?
When Patrick reached Kyle, they began to talk. Calmly.
Summer breathed a sigh of relief. Patrick must be thanking Kyle for attending the memorial service.
But then Patrick inched closer to Kyle, and Kyle began to wave his arms in the air.
Summer’s heart jumped as Patrick’s voice grew louder.
"Let me tell you..." Patrick pointed his finger close to Kyle’s nose.
Summer drew in a breath.
"You used my daughter to keep your name in the press and to get publicity for your new film."