“I love you, Max.” I whisper.
He brings his arm up and pulls me closer. “Love you too, Jayc. Forever and a day. Because forever will never be long enough.” We both fall asleep within minutes wrapped in the comfort of his words.
We rise early the next morning. We have to make the one-hour drive to Kerr County to lay baby Cole to rest. Uncle Brock and Aunt Paige received word that even after Cole’s passing, the judge granted the adoption with special circumstances and allowed the name to go on the birth certificate with them listed as his parents. They made phone calls to Lex, our second cousin, at the funeral home and to Mama Boudouin, Aunt Paige’s mom. Mama Boudouin got on the phone with their pastor from Church of Christ and arranged for a small service to be held this morning. Following the service, we’ll take him to the Boudouin family cemetery that lies on a hill at the back of their property. Lex promised them he’d take care of the rest. He’d get Cole from the hospital, then to the church and to the cemetery. He refused payment of any kind, telling them they were family. I think we all feel bad about being scared of him. It seems he shares the same heart of gold as his cousin, my grandpa.
My grandma is riding with Max and I to the church. During the drive, she tells us that the social worker who spoke to the judge about Cole, told Aunt Paige and Uncle Brock that as she explained to the judge, my aunt and uncle still wanted to follow through with the adoption, even though Cole passed. The judge had signed the papers with teary eyes, touched not only for the loss of Cole, but the beautiful gift my aunt and uncle were giving him. We all feel that way.
We arrive at the church at almost the same time as the rest of the family. Pulling into the large gravel church parking lot, we see it’s full except for a few open spots, side by side. Heading into the church sanctuary, I wonder if there’s a service that will be letting out before Cole’s begins. A man who looks about the same age as my dad approaches us. He’s in blue jeans, a white snap down western shirt, boots and a tan stetson.
“Mornin', I’m Jace Mays, the pastor. Ya’ll must be Brock and Paige’s family.” My dad steps forward and shakes his hand. “Yes, we’re the McGinty’s. Good to meet you; just wish it were under better circumstances.”
Pastor Mays looks down and shakes his head. “It’s a shame. Such a young precious life, gone too soon. After Paige’s momma called and told my wife and I what happened, my wife got on the phone and started making calls. She believes that little baby deserves a big send off. Seems our entire congregation,” he glances around the parking lot and back to the church, “has shown up along with most of the town sharing that feeling. Some folks' carpooled in knowing the lot would fill up. They left those spots for y’all.” He gestures to the spots we just parked in. “Y'all can go on inside. We’ll be starting in a few minutes. I just came out to collect my thoughts. I got a little overwhelmed when I walked in and saw the sanctuary. Y'all may want to prepare yourselves.” With that, he nods and heads back inside.
When we enter the sanctuary's vestibule, we stop and stare, shocked and overwhelmed just like Pastor Mays warned us we would be. Tears fall from my eyes as my grandma and Aunt Savannah pull tissues from their purses and start handing them out. I take one and wipe my eyes as Max pulls me to him. Collective coughs and throat clearing come from the men standing with us as we all face the church’s altar.
The tiniest, shiny, silver and blue coffin sits at the alter. On top, lies a cross made from blue and white flowers. Although sadly beautiful, what catches my heart is what has been placed around it.
Toys are spread all around Cole’s little coffin; a firetruck and some matchbox cars, blocks and a little blue tricycle. As we walk closer, I notice baby rattles and stuffed animals, toy soldiers and a wooden rocking horse. There’s even a red wagon with a giant stuffed elephant sitting in it. The sight of all the things that should have been Cole's is enough to have my heart breaking in two.
The pews are packed with people and its standing room only. Blue balloons are all around the church. I stand in awe of this until I see my Uncle Brock and Aunt Paige start walking towards us. Neither speak, they just gesture for us to sit up front with them and Aunt Paige’s family. Shortly after we take our seats, Aunt Paige’s family members and ours exchange quiet hello’s. Moments later, Pastor Mays comes in.
Everyone sits in silence as he recites an opening prayer. He goes on offering no reasons or justifications for the loss of this little life. He explains that these are the times he has to let go of trying to make sense and turn it all over to God. He recites the poem, “Footprints in the Sand” to assure us, Cole, in his short journey here with us, was never ever alone and that he’s sure God himself comes to bring the children home.
The congregation stands to say the benediction and then we make our way back out to our cars. As we walk, I find myself still wiping my eyes and taking deep breaths trying to relieve some of the tightness in my chest from my heart breaking for little Cole. I'm not the only one affected; men hold their women while wiping their tears, talk softly and give one arm hugs. Parents walk with their children, pulling them closer as they realize how blessed they are to have them here. As we reach our car and open the doors to sit down, my grandma leans over and takes my hand and holds it tight for a few moments before letting go.
We line up for the short drive to the Boudouin’s family cemetery with the hearse leading the way. We park in a field that runs beside an old iron fence that surrounds the graves. The hearse pulls inside the gates and up alongside a newly dug grave. As Max holds me close, my chest becomes tight again as tears fall. Cole is gently and lovingly placed above the grave on a grate by Lex and others from the funeral home. My heart and mind are torn between the beautiful care and heartache of the reality of watching a child placed to his final rest. The people from the church and town pull up the hill and exit their cars, crowding into the small cemetery with many having to stand outside the fence. They, just like me are touched. Many hold hands and link arms. I briefly wonder if they know each other or if they are strangers so deeply touched they find the need to reach out to one another for support. They’re holding the balloons from the church and some of the toys. After Pastor Mays says a short opening prayer, Jesse steps forward with his guitar and pulls the strap over his shoulder. He starts strumming and everyone falls silent. Jesse rarely plays and sings for anyone. It’s his private gift. When he starts singing, everyone goes quiet and listens, surprised by the soft beauty of his voice. When the chorus starts, the crowd starts to softly sing along with him between their tears as they tell baby Cole to go rest high on that mountain. After the song finishes, Pastor Mays gives the final prayer and we release the balloons. Over a hundred blue balloons rise into the air, heading for Heaven as the children in the crowd start clapping and laughing which makes everyone smile and take shuttering breaths. I stand and stare at the sky watching as the blue balloons disappear. Rest in peace, Cole Jaxson McGinty.
A long line of cars and trucks travel down the old dirt road that leads to the family’s farmhouse. It’s a beautiful plantation style house nestled in between the trees. The house is bright white with red shutters and a wide, covered porch. Chairs and rockers line one side and a porch swing hangs on the other side with more chairs. There are even ceiling fans spinning slowly that help keep you cool while sitting outside in the Texas heat. I visited here a few times when Aunt Paige’s grandparents still lived there. After both her grandparents passed, her mom and dad moved here from the city and took over running the estate. I’ve been in love with the house and land since my first visit. Behind the house, there’s a dirt road that leads to an old red barn that’s not used anymore. A newer barn is down a road not far from the house. The cars pull up and people start climbing out, carrying food covered with foil and bags. As they head towards the house, a couple of women standing on the front porch start taking the bags and setting them aside before they continue on into the house with their covered dishes. My dad and Violet lead the way as we walk up to the
porch. A very pretty brunette with beautiful blue eyes smiles down at us in greeting.
“Hi, I’m Bobbie Sue Mays.”
“Pastor Mays’ wife?” Violet asks.
“Yes, Pastor Mays’ wife.” She points to the bags, “I’m going to start taking these down to the storage area in the new barn. It’s donations for Callie. I tell you, small towns, the love they show is incredible. I grew up in a bigger town and although we were close, it wasn’t like this.” She starts picking up bags when Jake, Jesse, Nash, Chase, Connor, Bradley and Max step up and grab them from her.
“Okay. Well, thank you,” she smiles at their gesture and they follow her to the barn. Uncle Brock comes out and shakes hands with his brothers and hugs the women. I look around and see I’m not the only one touched by this outpouring. Others are taking it all in as well. One woman, with the most beautiful blonde hair stands silently off to the side quietly crying and, taking everything in, like me. A man towing the cutest red tricycle with a basket and horn with ribbons falling from the handle bars notices her crying quietly too. He goes to her and they speak softly to each before she pulls him into an embrace before standing back and looking at all the gifts being given for Callie. He and I both watch as she gives a tight smile, turns and starts back towards the cars parked out front. I take a deep breath; my throat and chest tight from all the emotion being shown by everyone.
We stay, have brunch and talk with many wonderful people. The beauty of the countryside and the kindness of the people here draws me in; I can imagine moving and living here forever. Before Max and I leave, we decide to walk down to the barn to grab a few bags to take back to town so we can lighten the load for my aunt and uncle. When we reach the barn, we stop and look around. Again, this community proves to be amazing. The outpouring of love they've shown, not only for Cole but for Callie is beyond measure. Someone has gone through the bags and sorted things between clothes, toys, food not only for Callie but for Uncle Brock and Aunt Paige. There’s bedding and wall decorations fitting for a little girl. A few dolls are along the wall with over a dozen pair of shoes ranging from dress shoes to sneakers to sandals and a couple of pairs of little girl cowboy boots. There’s a pink cowboy hat, dresses, overalls, blue jeans and tops, and a bunch of beautiful little girl gowns and also footed pajamas. The red tricycle sits across the room along with a dollhouse and red wagon. A piece of paper with a picture catches my eye and I walk forward to see what it is. It’s a receipt marked ‘paid’ with a picture of wooden jungle gym. It has a tire swing off one end and a twisty slide off the other. Max and I turn towards each other and he shakes his head, both of us amazed at the volume of things donated.
Aunt Paige arrives and gasps, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. Aunt Paige barely had time to recover when Uncle Brock entered the barn, his step faltering as he approached his wife. Several emotions played across his features as he drew Aunt Paige to his side, his voice thick when he finally spoke. "Um, yeah. I think we're going to need a bigger truck."
“Yep, A really big truck.” Max replies.
“They’ve thought of everything, Brock. Look. Everything.” He nods.
“Well, I guess y'all go on and take off. I’m going to go talk to Stone and Duke and your brothers about loading this up.” He leans down and gives Aunt Paige a kiss before taking one last look around, shaking his head. We share a smile with Aunt Paige; it seems as though little baby Cole took care of his mom, dad and sister from Heaven.
Max and I head back into town but we make a quick stop at home to change. Max is going to do some painting and putting up decorations; I'll be stuck watching him because of my shoulder. When we walk into our bedroom, I stand still and take in the beauty of the room and all the thought and love put into it. Max comes up behind me and wraps me in his arms resting his chin on my head.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like today and I don’t think I ever will again, Jayc.” I nod and turn around in his arms to look at him.
“I know. I mean, there are no words.” I slide my hand up his chest and wrap it behind his neck. “Max, today I went through every emotion I've ever had.” He nods in agreement before we silently change our clothes and head over to get things ready for Callie’s arrival.
When we pull up to Uncle Brock and Aunt Paige’s two story white stone home, we see about half the family is already there. The men. It figures. Today was emotional and although I know they felt it, enough was probably enough. We walk up the sidewalk right as Jesse opens the door to run out to his truck and get something.
“Hey Brat, Blue,” he says and starts to walk off but I reach out and grab his arm, stopping him. I pull him into a hug surprising him. After a moment he softens and gives a tight hug back before releasing me and quickly walking off. I’m so proud of what he did for Cole today.
Walking through the threshold of the house with Max, I study the cherry wood door that is mostly frosted glass. The scripted M in the center that stands for McGinty is a signature piece that I've always loved. It looks so serene against their white stone house. They have a couple of old wooden benches on their front porch and rows of potted plants. In the front yard, off to the side, stands a Magnolia tree but there’s no blooms now. I love that tree. One day, I want one of my own. I think every southern girl should have her very own Magnolia tree.
Their house has an open floor plan downstairs. The kitchen is in the center and it’s one of the most awesome kitchens I’ve ever seen. The countertops are tiled red along with the backsplash with a few random white ones thrown in here and there. Their appliances are all stainless steel and her cabinets are a deep cherry wood like the front door. On the counter sits an old cowboy boot being used as a vase and it’s holding sunflowers just like the ones sitting on my dresser in my bedroom.
We hear voices and head up the winding wood staircase to the landing. There’s a large bay window with a seating area built in with a cushion and throw pillows. Off to the side, there’s a chaise that’s a dark cream color, an odd-shaped coffee table with only three legs and an inviting sofa and loveseat with baby blue and white stripes. The walls are decorated with random shelves holding books or small vases with flowers and black and white pictures of them, dating back from their high school days to the present.
Off to the right of that room, is the guest room. It’s has a warm, old-fashioned feel with simple furniture and a beautiful quilt laying across the bed. Walking past that, we finally reach what is now Callie’s room. It's been taped up and the floor is covered. Uncle Duke is kneeling next to a paint can, mixing and complaining, trying to convince Bradley to do the painting. Uncle Duke looks up and sees us and smiles.
“Thank God.” He stands and hands Max the roller and paint pan. “I hate painting and Bradley here,” he gestures with his thumb over his shoulder at Bradley, “won’t help his old dad out.” Bradley rolls his eyes behind his dad’s back. “I can tape and float all day but just can’t do the painting,” Uncle Duke says and walks away leaving us standing in the middle of the room looking at his back.
Max turns to me and Bradley. “I think he hates painting.”
“You think, sugar bear?” I ask with a laugh.
He grins at my pet name and his dimples show in all their glory.
Bradley laughs as he leaves the room following his dad. “Sugar bear.”
He continues laughing as he walks down the stairs. Max looks at me in question, expectantly waiting an explanation.
“Yes, sugar bear.” I nod with all seriousness and explain. “Well, you started calling me love, and I swoon every time you do.”
He drops the roller and pan and walks to me and wraps an arm around my waist, playfully yanking me to him and dips me a little. I reach for his shoulder with my arm not in the sling and let out a little yelp.
He looks down at me grinning. “My love, you swoon for me?” He leans down to kiss my lips while chuckling.
“Yes, I swoon, sugar bear.” I drag out the word swoon and he starts to laugh harder
as he moves his lips to my neck and with a final kiss, he brings us back up.
“Love, how about you don’t call me sugar bear in front of any of those alpha males in your family. That can be your secret name for me. But in front of the guys, please refer to me as maybe, Thor, Hulk, The Hammer, Rock or Titanium.”
On that last one, I crack up. “Titanium, huh? Titanium bear?”
I’m still laughing and so is he as he replies. “Yes, titanium. No bear.”
“Titanium bear it is,” I agree.
He grabs me and pulls me to him. “Love, if you ever call me those in front of the guys, I will turn you over my knee and spank you.” he warns me.
Well, holy freaking heck and shit. My body freezes and I raise my eyes to meet his.
“I’m sorry, Jaycee. I wasn’t thinking,” he says as his expression turns serious. He brings his hands up and cups my face. He looks so scared. “I would never hurt you, Jaycee.” he whispers.
Oh, that’s why. “Well, I know that, Max. Of course, I know that.” I roll my eyes.
“I felt you stiffen and then your face fell so I thought—” he starts but I interrupt him and look down to the floor before replying.
“No, when you said turn me over your knee and spank me…” my voice trails off.
“What?” he asks. I make nonessential mumbling noises. He lets out a deep chuckle and tries again. “What, Jaycee? My love?”
I still don’t look up but I shuffle my feet and mumble again somehow managing to yell “spank” loud and clear. UGH! Kill me now!
“Jaycee, what are you trying to say?” When I don’t respond, he leans into me. “You're saying you like the thought of me turning you over my knee and spanking that amazing ass of yours till it’s as pink as this paint?” I fell my body jolt again. He’s turning me on and I’m blushing red with heat and embarrassment but I don’t say anything. “Good to know, love.” He pulls me close and kisses me. When he pulls back, he's smirking, a dark promise evident in his gaze.
Love Is Forever Blue Page 3