A dark-haired girl stared back at him. Unsmiling. She did not look familiar but, then, as a senior, he paid little attention to the young girls in the school, preferring flirtations with the older ones. Still, as he stared at the picture, he saw the promise of beauty in her features.
Putting the yearbook away, he sat down at the counter, determined to not put off the eulogy any longer. Closing his eyes, he thought back to his few conversations with Lenny. The Navy. The early days of war in the Middle East and being on a ship. An aircraft carrier.
As the older man’s war stories came back to him, Zac began writing them down. An hour later, he re-read what he had written.
Standing, he moved to his sofa, but did not turn on the TV. Instead, his mind was filled with Lenny Stevens…and Zac’s own father. Did they know each other? Shaking his head, he wondered if they had been buddies many years ago. Closing his eyes in anguish, he forced thoughts of his dad from his mind until he was interrupted by a call out.
Jumping up, he rushed into the fire station, getting into his gear as the group of volunteers did the same. Heading out, he gratefully settled his mind on the danger ahead, leaving the past where it belonged.
5
Madelyn walked down the aisle to the front row of pews in the funeral home chapel. Like a dream, she felt as though she were floating near the ceiling, looking down on the gathering. The room was filled with more people than she could imagine her father knowing, all smiling politely at her.
Swallowing deeply, she wondered what they thought of her. Do they think I abandoned him, when it was the other way around? Forcing a neutral expression as she nodded toward the smiles sent her way, she sat in the front row, acutely aware that she would be there alone. All alone.
A shadow appeared next to her and she looked up in surprise as Jillian and a man slid into the seats next to her.
“No one should be alone at this time,” Jillian whispered, her eyes warm.
As her gaze shifted from Jillian to the handsome man accompanying her, she startled, recognizing Grant Wilder from high school. Every teenage girl had had a crush on the handsome football quarterback, but he only had had eyes for the pretty homecoming queen. Looks like fairy tales can come true…for some.
Feeling less conspicuous, she offered a grateful smile, then looked to the American Legion Chaplain in the front of the room, as he began his welcome. Scripture verse followed, along with the singing of Amazing Grace. He spoke for a few minutes about having met her father at the American Legion meetings.
“His fellow antique collector, David Wills, would like to say a few words.”
She watched as a dapper, middle-aged man walked to the front, his smile wide as he began relating the many trips he would take with her dad as they looked for antiques to refinish or collect. Her heart felt a pang, remembering when she was a little girl and he would take her out to visit shops or auctions. Glad when Mr. Wills finished, she hoped the service was drawing to a close.
The chaplain spoked once more. “At this time, I invite Zachary Hamilton to come forward.”
She heard shuffling from behind as a man, dressed in a dark suit, walked to the podium and turned to face the crowd. She sucked in her breath as recognition flooded her. Zac…one of the Baytown Boys. She remembered the dark-haired boy, all lean muscles and cute smile. She used to watch him at baseball practices, hating to go home too early. What is he doing here? How did he know my father? Palms sweating, she wiped them on her skirt, hoping no one noticed.
Zac looked out on the gathering, the attendees mostly from the American Legion, though there were a few other townspeople. His gaze roamed past his friends, landing on the front row at the beautiful, dark-haired woman sitting next to Jillian, her wide eyes pinned on him. Knowing he must be looking at Madelyn, he faltered at the realization that her early adolescent promise of beauty had been fulfilled. Her stare glued him to the spot and it took a second before he dragged his eyes away from her, remembering his eulogy. With a deep breath, he began.
“I had the privilege of meeting Leonard Stevens about six months ago at an American Legion meeting. He approached me after the meeting to say that he had served in the Navy, as had I, and he just wanted to shake my hand. Of course, it was an honor for me to be the one shaking his hand.
“He missed several meetings after that, but the next time he came, I invited him to the pub afterwards, but he declined. I got the feeling that he still wanted to chat but the pub might have been too noisy. Anyway, we ended up stacking the chairs by ourselves after the meeting and spent time talking. He asked about my time in the Navy, but I was most interested in his. He spent his tour of duty off the Saudi Arabian coast near the Iran-Iraq War exclusion boundary. He served as a radioman on the frigate, USS Stark, and he told me he was onboard during the Incident.”
Zac grinned slightly, shaking his head. “I always thought it was funny that the United States called it an incident. Guess that makes it sound better than attack. Anyway, an Iraqi jet aircraft fired missiles at the Stark.”
Sobering, he continued, “He said thirty-seven crew members died that day and over twenty more were injured. I know a lot of people just assume that the Navy did little during the Gulf Wars, thinking of the land-locked countries, but between aircraft carriers, diving missions, escorting oil tankers and other craft, the Navy saw a lot of activity. But the attack on the Stark was different and I could tell it struck Lenny deeply.”
He chanced a glance toward Madelyn, seeing her eyes still wide, his story obviously not familiar to her. He felt drawn in for a moment, staring into her eyes, seeing a strangely familiar, haunted specter in them. Clearing his throat, he said, “Lenny said that he was the radioman who was ordered to message the unidentified aircraft to identify themselves and when no such identity came back, he had to send the order again. Only one minute passed before the fighter fired their missiles. He remembered the whole ship rocked with the explosions and orderly chaos began. He stayed in the radio room, not knowing the extent of the damage, the ship listing to one side. He recalled how fear curdled in his stomach, wondering if he would ever get back home. It wasn’t until later that he would know who had perished and the deaths stayed with him for years afterward.”
Zac paused for a moment, casting his eyes over the group. “For those of us who served, in whatever branch or capacity, we go in knowing that death can be a reality, yet it is only when it occurs to those we know that we can truly appreciate the sacrifice of service. After we talked that night, he didn’t come to the next few meetings. I saw him in town one day and he mentioned that he had been sick, but that he would be back soon. I wish I had had a chance to get to know Lenny more…I now feel guilty about that. But that night, he thanked me for allowing him to talk about his time in the service. He said it gave him some closure to talk about that day. So, to Lenny Stevens, I thank you for your service and you can rest easy knowing that we will assist your daughter in any way we can.” Smiling toward Madelyn, he observed her shock at his words and the slight blush that rose over her cheeks.
Madelyn sat in stunned surprise during Zac’s eulogy. She had never heard her father speak of being in the military, much less on a Navy ship during wartime. A flash of unfamiliar jealousy shot through her as she realized how much more of her father Zac knew than she did. Well, that’s not true, she argued with herself. He only knew the small bits Dad told him. I’m sure I am the only one with the knowledge that I wasn’t worth fighting for.
As the service came to a close, she pushed those negative thoughts to the back of her mind. God, now I have to get through the reception.
The inside of the American Legion meeting hall was utilitarian, but the Auxiliary had placed tables together, laden with food. Platters of chicken wings, vegetable and fruit trays, bowls of potato salad and pasta salad, and cakes, brownies, and pies galore. At one end, punch bowls and glass pitchers filled with iced tea sat near plastic cups.
Madelyn, escorted inside by a wave of well-wishers, smiled
her thanks while battling light-headedness. Soon, the ladies had her seated at a table, a plate of food in front of her and an endless line of people expressing their condolences.
It seemed each one wanted to share a tale, experience, anecdote about her father, and with each reminder that she never really knew him she grew angrier. Refusing to let it show, she smiled, shook hands, nodded appropriately, and after what seemed like an eternity, the crowd finally started thinning and those left had gathered at other tables to talk amongst friends.
Mr. Wills stopped by, grasping her hands in his, and said, “My dear. You must be so overwhelmed. I know your father had a great many antiques in his house and I might be one of the few people in the county that know their worth. Please give me a call as you decide how you want to settle things.” Before she had a chance to respond, he pressed his business card in her hand and walked off. Staring dumbly after him, she simply slipped the card into her pocket, before turning to the next person.
As Jillian, Katelyn, Belle, Tori, and Jade sat down at her table, she stood suddenly, desperate for a break. “I’ll be right back,” she said, a smile cemented on her face. “I just need to run to the ladies’ room.”
Turning, she quickly escaped, finding a hall nearby. A door to the outside was just beyond the restrooms and she gratefully pushed through, the sunlight hitting her face. Propping open the door with a rock to keep it from locking her out, she leaned against the warm brick building, closing her eyes as she breathed deeply, willing the day to be over.
Utter, bone-wearying exhaustion threatened to overtake her. How do people get through these things? She wondered if it would have been easier or harder if she were still a Baytown resident with a close relationship with her father. Doesn’t matter…I’m not and I didn’t.
Hearing a noise, she jumped, her hand landing on her throat. Blinking in the bright sunlight, she noticed Zac in the doorway, his eyes pinned on hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said, staring at her. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I saw you leave and wanted to make sure you were all right. Then, I saw you standing there and realized…uh…well…I thought you might want to be alone. Which, I suppose, if you did, then I’ve just ruined that, haven’t I?”
A snort of laughter erupted from her lips and she immediately covered her mouth with her hand, thinking both how refreshing it was to see him flustered and how inappropriate it was for her to laugh on the day of her father’s funeral.
“Please don’t stop smiling,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s the first real emotion I’ve seen from you today.”
Like a cold shower, she sobered, adopting a composed persona. “I haven’t thanked you yet for the kind words you shared at the funeral today. I’m sure my father would have been pleased.”
Zac stared, silently observing as her robotic façade slid into place, and wondered what was going through her mind. Her pale complexion was flawless but it was her brown eyes that riveted him. Deep brown with gold flecks. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek pony tail at the base of her neck. Her dark dress was demure, yet classy. Wanting to know what she thought, he asked, “But were you pleased?”
Blinking, she startled, opening and closing her mouth a few times before blurting, “What?”
“I’m just wondering if you were pleased.”
“Me? I don’t see what I have to do with anything—”
“Because, Ms. Stevens, the funeral is for the living…those left behind. I just noticed that you seemed so uncomfortable inside.”
Pinching her lips together, Madelyn wanted to rail at him, call him out for his impertinence. He doesn’t know me. How dare he judge me for my emotional state at my own father’s funeral. Swallowing deeply, she remained quiet, looking back out onto the quiet street.
“So,” he continued, his voice as soft as silk, “I just wondered what you thought.”
Whipping her head around to face him, causing the loose strands of her hair to fly about her head, she glared. “What I think? What I think is that I am surrounded by people I don’t know offering condolences for the loss of a man I hardly knew and hadn’t seen in fourteen years! Who felt free to tell other people that he was in the Navy, saw things, lost things, but didn’t even want to keep what he had!” Inwardly wincing at her harsh tone, she forced her grimace to stay firmly on her face, until she saw the hurt flash through his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping backward. “I should not have intruded.” With that, he turned and, after making sure the rock was still in the doorway, he re-entered the building, leaving her standing alone.
Slumping back against the wall, she attempted to swallow the tears threatening to fall. Swiping her fingers under her eyes to clean any running mascara, she straightened, taking a deep breath before throwing open the door to make her way inside, once more plastering a polite smile on her face.
Entering the reception hall, she made her way back to the table, seeing the other women sitting there. Sitting, she apologized for her delay.
“Oh, sweetie, this day has been really hard, I know,” Belle said. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”
Glad that their conversations turned to other topics, she finally worked up the courage to ask about Zac. “The young man who gave my father’s Navy eulogy, I believe he was one of the Baytown Boys?”
“Yes,” Jillian acknowledged. “He, along with Mitch, Grant, Aiden, Brogan, Callan, and Philip. They all left for the military after high school…each finding their way back to Baytown.”
Nodding, Madelyn recognized all of the names and had seen them all at the funeral, except for one.
Katelyn, watching her face, said, “Philip Bayles didn’t make it back. He’s buried in the town cemetery.”
Suddenly remembering seeing Katelyn and Philip together in high school, she sucked in a quick breath, but before she could speak, Katelyn continued.
“I grieved for many years, but found love again.”
A smile curved her lips, and she recognized it as only the second heartfelt smile of the day. The first one being outside with Zac. Who I was completely rude to. Before she had a chance to ask more about him, Jillian spoke.
“Zac had to attend the funerals of both his parents, so I always wonder how hard these are for him.”
As the other women clucked in sympathy, her heart stopped. Oh, my God, and I was such a bitch! Lashing out at a man who has suffered loss himself and was only trying to help. Closing her eyes for a moment, she knew she needed to apologize. Glancing around the room to the few still in attendance and the Auxiliary women packing the food away, she observed he was no longer there.
As she stood, about to make her farewells, two attractive older women approached. Introducing themselves as Nancy and Claire Evans, Mitch and Jillian’s moms, they hugged her before letting her know that they were packing the food for her to take with her.
Looking at the table, now loaded with Tupperware containers, enough to feed an Army, she was about to protest, when two more women approached, Corrine MacFarlane and Marcia Wilder, Katelyn and Grant’s mothers. Seeing her wide-eyed stare, they shared a look between themselves.
“I can see that this is overwhelming,” Nancy said. “How about if we give you a little food to take back home and we can donate the rest to some of the needy families in the area?”
Madelyn’s relief was obvious as her forced stance relaxed. “Oh, thank you. I would so much more appreciate that than to have it go to waste.” As she stood there, surrounded by women, their men nearby, feeling more supported than she had in years, she let out a long sigh.
Another woman approached, her hand extended in greeting. “I know you’re overwhelmed, but I wanted to say how sorry I was about your father. I’m Tonya Bayles. I believe you were in the same class as my daughter, Sophie.”
Casting her mind back, she remembered Sophie Bayles, a little red-headed girl with pigtails. Smiling warmly, she nodded as she said, “Yes, I do remember her.”
Tonya
stepped back next to the others and Madelyn turned toward them, glad for what they had done and, yet, ready to flee.
“I want to thank you all,” she said, reaching out to grasp Jillian’s hand while her gaze landed on the entire group. “For the service and this reception. I don’t think I could have done it alone.”
“What are your plans?” Mitch asked, his hand resting on Tori’s waist. “Is there anything we can assist with?”
She shook her head. “You’ve done more than enough. I’ll call Mr. Wills and have the furniture assessed before I sell it. Then I’ll contact a realtor to have the house go on the market before I leave.”
“How long will you be here?” Tori asked.
Shrugging, she said, “I took one week off work so, hopefully, I’ll get it all done by then. If not, then I should be able to handle things long distance.”
As exhaustion crept over her body, she offered hugs of thanks and goodbyes before taking her few food items and walking back outside. Looking up, she noticed the sun had moved across the sky. A memory of her father taking her mother and her to the pier to watch the sun set filled her mind. Back before everything went to hell. Maybe this evening…for old times’ sake. Just one more sunset…this one for me.
6
Zac stood at the end of the pier, watching the gulls dip into the water as the sun began its descent into the horizon. The blue sky was now lit with every shade of orange, pink, blue, and slowly morphed into adding shades of purple.
Leaning his forearms on the railing, he kept his eyes trained where the sky met the sea, the sight never getting old. He remembered his dad bringing him to the pier to fish on weekends when he was little. Before. Before life changed and there were no more fishing trips. At least not with his dad.
Rubbing his hand over his face, his mind moved to the funeral. Sighing heavily, he thought of Madelyn with her haunted eyes. After what she had said, he figured she wasn’t just sad for the loss of her father. The funeral was just a reminder that she had already lost him. I know all about that.
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