by Marie Force
“Oh wow,” she whispered as she saw the size of the crowd.
“People wanted to come,” Nolan said simply.
On a stool next to where Homer’s casket had been laid, Jack strummed out a slow, reverent version of “Ventura Highway,” another of Caleb’s favorite songs from his time in Southern California. Jack had played the same rendition of the song at Caleb’s memorial, so the tune immediately brought tears to Hannah’s eyes.
Her parents arrived with her grandfather, followed a short time later by Caleb’s parents. All her brothers had worn suits and ties, Hannah realized as they trickled in one by one. Cameron, Ella and Charley had dressed up, too. Becky and Hannah’s other Thursday afternoon friends were there, along with Myles Johansen, Mrs. Hendricks, everyone from the store and Hannah’s beading friends from the craft guild. People brought chairs and covered dishes they put on a table someone had put by the arbor that led into her backyard.
“Oh my God,” Nolan muttered as Skeeter came in with Dude, both of them wearing suits and ties and solemn expressions.
Hannah could feel Nolan trying hard to hold back laughter, and the tension inside her eased when she realized all these people had come mostly for her—and many of them had come for Caleb, too. She had asked Turk to be master of ceremonies, and when the people finally stopped coming, he stood before them, handsome in a dark gray suit and burgundy tie.
“Friends, on behalf of Hannah, I thank you for being here today to celebrate the life of our dear departed Homer Guthrie. For more than sixteen years, Homer was the faithful companion of first Caleb Guthrie, then Caleb and Hannah, and most recently Hannah. I happened to be with Caleb the day he found Homer abandoned by the side of the road. He brought him home, washed days of filth off the poor boy and fed him the first good meal he’d had in a long time. During the course of that first night, Caleb gained a loyal friend who remained by his side for the rest of his life. In typical Caleb style, however, he set out to find the rightful owner, knowing that’s what he would want if he’d somehow managed to lose his dog. Little did Caleb know then that Homer had finally found his way home to the place he was always meant to live and the person he was meant to live with.
“Caleb used to say that people are either dog people, or they aren’t. ‘There’s really no gray area’ he would say. Caleb was a dog person. More to the point, he was a Homer person. Hannah told me this week that it’s given her comfort to think of Homer crossing the rainbow bridge and jumping into Caleb’s waiting arms. Ever since she shared that thought with me, it’s given me comfort, too. The loss of Homer is the end of an era for all of us who loved him and Caleb. May they live together forever in the kingdom of heaven, where no one ever dies and there’s never a shortage of beer or dog biscuits.”
Laughter, applause and tears followed Turk’s comments.
Hannah gratefully took the handkerchief that Nolan offered and dabbed at her eyes.
“Hannah has asked Gavin to say a few words about Homer,” Turk said, “and after that, anyone else who wishes to speak is more than welcome to. Gav?”
Wearing a pinstripe suit with a white dress shirt and a tie that had belonged to Caleb, Gavin made his way to the front of the gathering. He rested a hand on Homer’s box before turning to face the audience.
“The news of Homer’s passing brought back a lot of memories I’d sooner forget. I’m sure many of you felt the same way. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last seven years, there’s no such thing as outrunning grief. It manages to find you no matter where you hide and makes you do stupid things you immediately regret.” This was said directly to Hannah and Nolan.
“After Hannah asked me to speak today, I thought a lot about the time I spent with Caleb and Homer. Our duo became a trio after Homer adopted Caleb. Everywhere we went, he came, too. Fishing, skiing, snowboarding, hiking, camping. You name it. Homer did it. We once took him camping, and Caleb got the big idea to leave him in the tent while we went into town to get a pizza. We came back to find our tent running around the campground with Homer still zipped inside. He was not pleased to have been left behind, and he made his point rather convincingly. We never did that again.”
Even though the story was legendary, it still resulted in hysterical laughter.
“I’ll never forget the first time Caleb took him skiing with us. I’d questioned the wisdom of bringing Homer with us, but Caleb reminded me of how ornery Homer could be when he got left behind. So I relented even though I still wondered how it would work. We got on the lift with Homer sitting between us, and the lift operator says, ‘How the hell are you going to get the dog down the mountain?’ Caleb says, ‘I’m far more worried about getting my brother down the mountain than I am about old Homer here.’”
Everyone cracked up laughing as Gavin was known for his lackluster skiing skills and had taken an endless amount of abuse from Caleb, Hunter and Will, who were outstanding skiers.
“Sure enough, when I finally made it to the bottom of the hill, Caleb and Homer were waiting for me, ready to do the whole thing again, much to my dismay. There was nothing Homer wasn’t game for, no adventure Caleb could dream up that Homer couldn’t handle. When Caleb traveled or deployed, Homer would sit by the door day after day until his best friend finally came home. After we lost Caleb, Homer mourned right along with us. You’ll never convince me he didn’t know exactly what’d happened, and he turned his faithful devotion toward Hannah for all his remaining days. Will any of us ever forget the way he’d run to Caleb and leap into his outstretched arms? I know I never will.”
Tears flowed freely down Hannah’s face as Nolan kept an arm tight around her. She wasn’t the only one sniffling over Gavin’s touching words. Hannah noticed her sister Ella wiping her tears without ever taking her gaze off Gavin.
“In preparation for today, I poked around a bit on the Internet, looking for something that would adequately portray the bond between Caleb and Homer, and I think this story says it all.” Reading from a paper he withdrew from his suit coat pocket, Gavin said, “It’s called ‘A Man and His Dog’ and the author is unknown, but I could picture Caleb and Homer in this story, and I hope you can, too.” He relayed the touching story about a man who declined to take his place in heaven because he couldn’t bring his dog. Later, he learned the first place was really hell. The real heaven, he discovered, allows pets.
“Thank you all for being here to remember Homer. It means a lot to Hannah and to my parents and me that you still care for Caleb, too. Jack has another song for us, and then you’re welcome to share your memories of Homer and Caleb.”
As Gavin returned to his seat and received a hug from Ella, who was sitting next to him, Jack strummed the opening notes to “Stand by Me,” a perfect song to sum up the relationship between Caleb and Homer.
The funeral turned into an Irish wake of sorts after that, with unlimited whiskey for the numerous toasts and tributes to Homer. Before everyone got too drunk, Nolan suggested they carry Homer to the final resting place he’d prepared in Hannah’s garden at the foot of an old oak tree.
Landon produced a beautifully carved cross that had Homer’s name on it along with 16 YEARS OF FAITHFUL COMPANIONSHIP.
Hannah hugged her younger brother. “Thanks so much, Landon. It’s lovely.”
He kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you like it.”
They buried Homer and placed the cross to mark his grave, and then the party resumed. Suit jackets and ties came off, shirtsleeves were rolled up, cigars were produced and the beer and liquor flowed freely. Someone started the fire, and no one left until close to sunset, when the locals began filtering out.
In need of a breather, Hannah went into the kitchen to check the enchiladas she’d put in the oven to heat and found Ella up to her elbows in soapsuds, tending to a huge pile of dishes. “You don’t need to do that, El.”
“Someone’s gotta. Why not me?”
“Thank you.”
“This was a really nice day. Caleb would’ve
loved it.”
“He would’ve. At times like this I can almost feel him with us.”
“Me, too,” Ella said.
“Are you crying?”
“Maybe a little. I miss him.”
Hannah slipped an arm around her sister’s waist and kissed her cheek. “I know.” She leaned against Ella’s shoulder. “Could I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“The business we talked about at Mom’s the other day. Is it Gavin?”
If she hadn’t been wrapped around Ella she wouldn’t have felt every muscle in her body go tense. “No. Of course not.”
“Ella . . .”
“It’s nothing, Hannah. Don’t go there.”
“I saw you watching him when he was speaking. It didn’t look like nothing to me.”
“Please, Hannah. He barely knows I’m alive. He’s a god. What would he want with me? He could have anyone he wanted.”
“Are you serious? Do have any idea how gorgeous you are?”
“Don’t try to make me feel better. It’s never going to happen. I accepted that a long time ago.”
Aghast, Hannah raised her head from Ella’s shoulder. “How long ago?”
“A long time,” Ella said with a resigned sigh.
“How long?”
“Around the time when Caleb died. Gavin was hurting so badly. It was hard to watch. It still is. I realized then I had feelings for him, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.”
“Why haven’t you ever said anything?”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Hannah, I think your brother-in-law is hot, and his pain makes my heart ache?’”
“To start with, yes.”
“And then what?”
“And then I tell him my baby sister, who’s the sweetest person I know, thinks he’s hot and wants to kiss him better.”
Ella blanched with horror. “You’d better not. I swear to God . . . Hannah.”
“What?”
“Don’t do it. I mean it.”
“What shouldn’t she do?” Nolan asked as he and Gavin came into the kitchen carrying dirty dishes.
“Nothing,” Ella said emphatically.
“Whoa,” Gavin said. “Looks like we interrupted something good.”
“I’ll get it out of her,” Nolan said, coming at Hannah with a gleam in his eye.
“No, you won’t,” Ella said, reaching for a dish towel to dry her hands and then fleeing the room.
Hannah moved to go after her, but Gavin stopped her.
“May I?”
Hannah eyed him warily, wondering if perhaps Ella’s one-way street might not be so one way after all. “By all means.”
“What was that all about?” Nolan asked when they were alone.
“Apparently, my sister has a thing for Gavin and has for a while now.”
“Wow. I’m learning all kinds of Abbott secrets hanging out with you.”
“I never knew there were so many secrets until lately. Don’t say anything, okay?”
“My lips are sealed.” He eyed the stairs and then looked back at her. “I’m going up to change into something more comfortable. Want to join me?”
“Is that a come-on line?”
“Take it any way you want to.”
“Go, quick before someone comes in.”
They scurried up the stairs laughing all the way.
CHAPTER 25
Every time I see Nolan, he makes me feel so special. He’s easy to talk to and is always happy to see me. I find myself putting off buying a new car because my old SUV requires frequent maintenance, which gives me an excuse to see Nolan every now and then. Thank God for such amazing friends. I never would’ve survived without them.
—From the diary of Hannah Abbott Guthrie, age thirty-two
Gavin looked for Ella in the sitting room and dining room before heading outside, where he found her on the porch swing. She appeared lost in thought as the swing swayed in the late afternoon breeze.
“You know, my grandfather built that swing for my grandmother when they were newlyweds,” Gavin said as he leaned against the porch railing.
She seemed surprised to see him there. “It’s in good shape if it’s been here that long.”
“We’ve taken good care of it over the years. A lot of Guthrie family history has transpired on that swing. Push over, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Ella hesitated before she moved over to make room for him.
“You may not know this,” he said when he was seated next to her, “but my grandmother told my grandfather she was pregnant with my dad right here. And when my parents were dating, this was one of their favorite spots.”
“This is where Caleb proposed to Hannah.”
“Told you—lots of history. Three generations’ worth.”
“I’ve always loved it here. It’s so peaceful.”
“One of my favorite places.”
“Your eulogy for Homer was amazing. Very moving and humorous and perfect.”
“Thank you,” he said, oddly touched by her approval. Her dark hair, so much like Hannah’s and Hunter’s, fluttered in the breeze.
“Caleb would’ve loved all this. Everyone coming together on Homer’s behalf.”
“Yes, he would’ve. The times with his friends and family around him were always his favorite, even if the occasion was sad.”
“I hope you know how much we all miss him. It’s nothing like what you’ve been through, but I think about him all the time. He was like another brother to me, and losing him was the worst thing to ever happen to me.” She looked away, seeming embarrassed.
“It means a lot to me and my parents that the people he loved still remember him so fondly.”
“Could I ask you something that’s none of my business?”
“Sure, why not? We’re practically related, right?”
“We’re not related,” she said forcefully—so forcefully that Gavin wondered what she was really thinking. “But what you said about outrunning the grief . . . Do you ever get any relief from it?”
“Do you know, you’re the first person to ever ask me that?”
“I don’t mean to pry. It’s just that I hate to think of you in that kind of pain all the time.”
Had he ever known anyone sweeter than her? Not that he could recall, and the way she looked at him . . . “You’re not prying, and it’s a great question. I get some relief out of my work. It keeps me so busy I don’t have time to think about anything else, and I like it that way. I work twelve or even fifteen hours a day so when I get home I’m too tired to do anything but sleep. That’s how I outrun it on many a day.”
“Does it work?”
“Sometimes.”
“What do you do when it doesn’t work?”
“Drink,” he said with a lazy grin. “A lot.”
Her brows knit adorably, and he just knew she had other questions she was dying to ask.
“Go ahead. I’m an open book.”
“Have you ever considered that therapy might be better for you than booze?”
“Sure, I’ve considered it, but the booze gets the job done. For the most part.”
“For the most part. What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said with a sigh, “when the booze doesn’t work, those are the really bad days.”
“How often does that happen?”
“You sure you aren’t really a shrink, Ella?”
“I’m sorry. I’m being terribly nosy, but it’s just . . . I hate to think of you hurting like that for all this time without let up.”
“It’s not quite as bad as it used to be. At least I’m no longer convinced it was all a big misunderstanding, and he’ll be showing up to say ‘psych’ any day now.”
“How long did you hope for that?”
“Far longer than I should have. At the beginning, I couldn’t conceive of a life without him at the center of it, where he’d been my whole life. Sometimes, I still hope I’m going to wake up and find
out it was all a bad dream. Like the end of the Newhart show. Remember that?”
Ella shook her head. “I remember the show but not how it ended.”
“It was one of my mom’s favorite shows when we were kids. Bob Newhart played an innkeeper in Vermont with a hot-to-trot wife and a bunch of lunatics around him. The last episode showed him waking up in bed with his wife from the earlier Bob Newhart Show, and he told her all about the dream that had been the second show. It was clever.”
“That is clever. I love it.”
“I want to know how I can manufacture things so the last seven years were nothing more than a bad dream. I’ll wake up in bed with a gorgeous woman who will hold me when I cry about the awful dream I had that my brother, my very best friend in the world, died at twenty-eight with his whole freaking life ahead of him.”
Ella placed her hand on his arm, the gesture comforting and something more. Something he couldn’t quite fathom. “I wish I could make that happen for you. For all of us.”
“That’d be nice, right?” He glanced at her, noticing the specs of gold in her dark eyes and the light smattering of freckles on her nose that he’d never seen before. She was really quite lovely. “Did you know Hannah tried to talk him out of going in the army?”
“She did? I never heard that.”
“Don’t let on that I told you. He told me. I guess they had several big fights over it. She didn’t understand why he would turn down a possible career in professional hockey to be gone all the time in the military. He loved the army life when my dad was on active duty. He liked the moving around, making new friends, the whole thing. I never had a doubt which way he would go, but I guess Hannah was blindsided when he chose the army over hockey.”
“She never let on that she was upset about it. To us, it seemed like she rolled with it all in typical Hannah fashion.”
“I think she’d tell you their senior year of college was one of the more trying periods in their relationship. A lot of decisions to be made. Many late nights. Lots of fights.”