by Sarah Turtle
Organ music echoed throughout the chapel, masking the pounding in her chest, which Willa was so convinced that everyone would be able to hear otherwise. An altar boy signaled that it was her turn to follow behind him, when she obviously left too large of a gap after he had gone, and so she took her first few steps down the aisle. To Willa’s horror, everyone stood and turned in her direction to face her. She vowed that after this experience ended, she would never scoff at having to walk down a red-carpet event ever again.
The first pew that she went by, located in the very back, had Brynn positioned on the end closest to the aisle, because it was the only wheelchair accessible spot in the church. Willa glanced down at her briefly as she passed, but the bright blue of her eyes were clouded with darkness and filled with sorrow. It was too much for her to bear, so Willa forced herself to look away. If she hoped to make it to the altar without withering into a hysterical mess, she had to focus on the intricate designs of the urn in her hands instead of the people surrounding her.
Placing the urn on a pedestal was as nerve wracking as picking up a newborn baby for the first time, and the audience behind her made it even more terrifying. Through sweating palms, trembling fingers, and a dizzy mind, she somehow managed to steady the urn onto the tiny square platform. In a haze of confusion, she searched for guidance on what her next move should be. The lector motioned for her to take a seat in the first pew, which, to her surprise, was completely empty. There wasn’t an available space in the entire church, and yet she was secluded from everyone.
The only person with a blood relation to her was her aunt, and Beth sat behind Willa, holding the hand of a man that she assumed was the librarian that she had spoken of the day before. The seat was hard and cold and Willa didn’t think that she could handle the idea of everyone’s eyes on the back of her head during the most miserable hour of her life. She turned and searched the crowd until the first familiar face she noticed came into her line of vision.
Shannon flashed her a supportive, yet serious smile. Willa shook her head slightly, to show that she needed more than just that from her. She leaned over the back of the pew and held her hand out, palm up, to invite her over to sit with her. Shannon nodded and excused herself as she slipped past a row of people that had to push their knees aside for her to pass, and continued on to take a seat next to Willa. She leaned her head in close to Shannon’s ear. “Thank you,” she said as she let her face rest on Shannon’s shoulder.
The organ music suddenly came to a dramatic end and the rustling of the crowd settled to an eerie silence. The minister raised his hands up and closed his eyes in preparation. A clicking sound of heels on the wooden floor approaching them caused Willa to lift her head up. Megan was hunched over, attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible, but failing, as she was the only one moving around in the completely silent church. The minister glared at her as he held off on beginning the ceremony until she was seated. Megan had a hold of her daughter Ava’s hand, and nudged Willa to slide over to make room for them on the pew.
The minister pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and raised his eyebrows at Willa, as if he were asking her to cease with the distractions. She glanced to her newly created support system of friends by her side and bowed her head for him to begin. The minister’s voice was anything but frail as it boomed so loudly that it could be felt deep inside those within the chapel’s walls. “We have gathered here today in remembrance of our dear friend and family member, Henry Barton.” Those were the only words that Willa paid attention to throughout the entire service. There were times when she followed the motions of others around her, such as when to kneel on the narrow wooden board at her feet, which Shannon was sure to pad down with her sweater, under the knee with the stitches on it. There was also a time when they stood in line to eat the wafer that tasted to her like a stale piece of cardboard. For the rest of the time, she focused on the silky fabric of her designer pants suit, one that her father had commented on liking when he saw it in a photograph that a fan took at a book signing.
Time flew by so swiftly that Willa wasn’t even sure what was happening when Megan prodded her side to stand up again. She promptly figured out that it was time for her to carry the urn back out again. The words spoken during the ceremony, although lost upon Willa’s ears, had clearly affected the rest of the crowd, because there were many tear streaked faces amongst them. The sight of their pain, mixed with the background music from the organ and the hauntingly sad voices of the choir singers, brought on the tears that she had worked so diligently at holding back. She didn’t dare move one of her trembling hands from either side of the urn to swipe the tears away, so she lowered her head and rushed down the aisle, practically pushing her way around the procession line in front of her. When she believed that there was no possible way to escape the scrutiny of everyone’s stares, a pair of hands reached up and took the burden of the urn from her.
Traditionally, Willa was supposed to wait at the rear of the chapel as people walked by and offered their condolences, but she had no desire to torture herself further with this parade of pain she felt like she was taking part in. Instead, she went straight for the exit and rushed out to her car. Willa’s fingers fumbled in her pockets for her keys, but during the process of trying to unlock it, she accidentally hit the alarm button. Between water filled eyelids and fingers that shook uncontrollably, she couldn’t find the right button to stop the shrieking horn honking and flashing headlights, both of which were drawing all the attention she was attempting to avoid in her direction.
An arm wrapped around Willa’s waist and helped ground her so that the feeling of helplessness subsided from her body. The keys, held so tight in her fist that they would leave imprints a long time afterwards, were removed from her hand and the alarm stopped. A tiny click sound released the locks on the car doors, and the arm around her waist gently guided her down into the driver’s seat. With her feet dangling out of her open car door and mascara running down her face, Willa stuck out her lower lip and sniffled. “I made a total fool of myself in there, didn’t I?”
Brynn swiped away the dark lines streaming down Willa’s cheeks with her thumb. “Nah, you just look like a daughter mourning the loss of her dad.”
“Oh no, what if someone took a photo of me? I look horrible. The media could attach any kind of story they wanted to a picture like that.”
“You don’t have to worry about that here. The island is like a big family, a highly dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless. Besides, even at your very worst, you’re still gorgeous.”
A blush swept over Willa’s face and to take the attention away from it, she gave Brynn’s shin a playful tap with the tip of her high-heeled shoe. She didn’t even have time to pull her foot back, when she realized what she had done. Her teeth bit down and a hiss came out as she grimaced.
Upon seeing Willa’s reaction, Brynn covered the spot where Willa had kicked with her hand. “Ow,” she said rubbing the spot.
Willa’s eyes widened and she reached down to cover the injured location with her palm. “I’m so sorry,” she said with a frown.
Brynn’s chuckling stopped Willa’s apology from going on any longer. “I couldn’t help myself.” She knocked her knuckles lightly on her leg a few times with her fist. “Can’t feel a thing down there, remember?”
Willa narrowed her eyes. “That is so not funny,” she said, dragging each syllable out to make her point clear.
“It’s a joke in bad taste, I know, but it did get you to forget how sad you were a minute ago, didn’t it?”
Willa couldn’t resist the bright blue eyes practically begging for forgiveness. She had almost forgotten over the years of just how much of a prankster her best friend had always been. “You always cheer me up, Brynn. Thank you for that, and for coming to my rescue, yet again.”
Brynn’s face lit up, and Willa was glad that they could both be alleviated from some of the pain that the loss of a loved one brings, but a sinking feeli
ng swept over her once more as a shadow loomed above them.
“It’s time to go, Brynn,” Griffin announced as he leaned in over the open door.
Willa pulled her legs into the car as she retreated away from the secluded little space that she had made with Brynn.
“Back off,” Brynn said sternly, not even bothering to turn her attention to him.
Griffin made a show of putting his hands in the air as he let go of the door and slowly walked away. “I’m heading out now and there’s no way your chair will fit in the back of that tiny chunk of metal that she flaunts around in.”
Brynn shook her head at his comment. “Ignore him; he’s having a difficult day too, even though he’ll never admit it.”
Someone else approached them, but this time, to Willa’s relief, it was Shannon.
“Because there’s no burial, everyone’s looking for a place to gather to offer up their condolences. I figured you didn’t have anything planned, so I spread the word that they could meet at my house, if that’s okay with you?”
“That’s very kind of you.” Willa reached out and squeezed her wrist. “I appreciate your help.”
“Of course. I need to get home, because people are sure to be showing up soon. Come by when you’re ready.” Shannon rushed off into the crowd of people in the parking lot. Willa nodded and wondered if she would ever really be ready to attend a social event with a group of people who were hardly even considered acquaintances, and discuss how much they missed her father.
“Are you going to be there?”
Brynn looked down at the urn still in her lap and frowned. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to bring Griff there and I don’t want to leave him today. It’s like we lost another father all over again.”
“I understand.”
Brynn placed her hand on the top of the urn and closed her eyes for a second. Willa watched as Brynn said her silent goodbye to Henry, then she carefully handed it over to Willa. “Take Dad home and then get to Shannon’s so that you won’t be alone tonight.”
“I will.” Willa lingered for a moment, not wanting to leave just yet. “It was nice seeing you again, even if it was in the worst of circumstances.”
“You too.” Brynn paused and then a huge grin swept over her face. “Hey, Griff is leaving to visit Mom in Florida tomorrow afternoon. There’s a weightlifting competition down south, so he’ll be gone for most of the week. Would you want to spend some time together?”
“More than anything.”
Chapter Sixteen
Willa drove back to the house slowly and cautiously, treating her father’s remains as precious as a newborn infant’s first ride. She had strapped the silver urn in the passenger seat with the safety belt in fear that it might slide off the seat if she had to come to a sudden stop. It wasn’t until she had him settled upon the mantle in the living room, as he had requested, that she was able to be at ease.
With a vague anticipation of the events that might occur at Shannon’s house later, Willa removed her contacts, wiped away any trace of what remained of her severely smudged mascara, and put on her glasses. If she were to shed any more tears, she wanted to do it with slightly more dignity than before. The glasses, even though they provided nothing more than a false sense of security, still felt like a shield to her.
Rows of vehicles lined the edges of both sides of the road leading up to Shannon’s house. Judging by the sheer number of them, it seemed as though just about everyone that had attended the service had chosen to gather here. Willa was thankful for the compact size of her car now, because there was a space large enough for her to park at the end of the driveway. She shuddered when she pictured herself having to walk all that way on the side of the road in high heels.
Inside the house, Willa noticed Shannon was standing in front of an oil painting displayed on her living room wall. A group of people were surrounding her and admiring the artwork as she described the particular brush strokes the artist used to create it. When she caught sight of Willa, she excused herself from the others and came over to greet her. “How are you holding up?”
Willa held out her hand and waved it diagonally a few times. “It would have been a lot worse if I had to host something like this at the last minute back at the house. I wouldn’t have been prepared at all.”
“I don’t think it occurred to your Aunt Beth either, until she saw the turnout at the chapel. Her house is too far away on the mainland, and tiny from the description she gave me. Besides, I literally know every person here,” Shannon motioned to two elderly women as they reminisced over a photograph of three generations of doctors in the Martin family, “and I think they’re starting to see me as a person instead of just a healthcare provider.”
Willa smiled warmly. “I’m glad that something positive is coming from this.”
“If you need some time to yourself at all, go to the second room on the left down the hall. It’s a spare bedroom with its own bathroom so you can step away from the chaos momentarily.”
“Thank you. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“No, I’m going to fill some pitchers with ice water. You should mingle with the guests, though; you’d be surprised at how many stories of your father they have. He was a beloved man in the community.”
Willa nodded and crossed her arms in front of herself, pretending to rub at the cold on her skin even though it was quite warm inside, especially with the large number of people gathered there. Social events for Willa consisted of book signings, movie premieres, and awards ceremonies. People attending them were either fellow colleagues in the industry or fans of her work. It was all too easy, and often times annoying, to start up a conversation with just about anyone who surrounded her. Complete strangers seemed to know details about her life and used that information to converse as if they had known each other for years. She dodged those sorts of people at events, and yet at this particular moment, she would have appreciated the attention that they showered her with. Old feelings resurfaced as if she were once again the socially awkward bookworm that she had been back in high school.
She decided, after scanning the room, that she would embrace the one thing she knew the most about and check out the bookshelves that lined one wall of the living room. An elderly woman with her head tilted to one side was reading the spines of a row of books, so Willa took a spot near her to start looking. It became evident after examining more than one shelf that every book had something to do with the human body. There were countless books on anatomy, the skeletal system, the circulatory system, blood, and many other detailed medical textbooks on subjects of the body that she had never even heard of before. The closest thing that she could find that even resembled a story was a book of personal accounts of doctors in emergency room situations. Willa pulled it down from the shelf and flipped through the pages. She skimmed a few of the stories, but they were quite gruesome in the details and they made her cringe. “Gross,” she said, scrunching up her nose and placing the book back on the shelf.
“Oh my, the subject matter of these books is less than desirable, unless you’re a doctor, of course,” the elderly woman said, taking a step closer to Willa.
Willa looked up from the book about the human brain that she was currently browsing through. “I couldn’t imagine having to memorize all of this information for college either. No wonder so few students make it through medical school.”
“We are quite fortunate that Dr. Martin followed in her father’s footsteps and took over his practice. Without her, we would have to travel to the mainland for every injury and sickness we had.”
“I never thought about that. Wouldn’t another doctor have purchased the clinic if she hadn’t wanted to?”
“And have to put up with life out here, and people like us? No, you have to be from here to want to stay. Half of the people who own the summer homes on the Cove are doctors from out of state, but they know well enough to be gone by snowfall so that they don’t have to endure our harsh winters.”<
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Willa bit at her lip and hugged the hardbound book to her chest. “I learned the difficult way that when you do leave, you realize that there is no other place that compares to this,” she said softly.
“That’s because you’re one of us, dear, and you always will be, just like your father.”
“May I ask how you knew him?”
“We only spoke a time or two, but if it wasn’t for both him and Dr. Martin, my grandson wouldn’t be alive today.”
Willa looked at the woman with narrowed eyes. She most certainly had never heard any stories of her father and Shannon doing anything together, much less saving a life. “Are you sure it was Henry Barton that saved your grandson?”
“Oh yes, it was him, for certain.” She pushed her bifocal glasses that had been seated at the tip of her nose up, and blinked her wrinkle-encircled eyes into focus before starting the story. “Last summer, a storm had come in faster than expected and my daughter called to tell me that Ethan was still out fishing in his kayak. I live close to the docks so I rushed over, but all of lobster boats had gotten in early to avoid the storm. The only man left down there was Henry. He went right back out and found Ethan overturned and hanging on for dear life to his kayak. He had taken in some water in his lungs and had a touch of hypothermia, but your father got him over to Dr. Martin in time to help him until the ambulance came in from the mainland.”
Willa’s thoughts drifted as she envisioned the events of that day, and how brave her dad had been to go back out into a storm alone. “He never told me that story.”
“That’s because he’s a humble man disguised in a hero’s body.”
Willa smiled. She had always thought that about him, but she assumed that every little girl felt that way about her father. It was something altogether different to hear it come from a stranger, though. “Thank you for sharing the story with me and I’m glad your grandson is okay.”