A few rows back is where my grandparents were laid to rest. When my Nan passed away, the thought of her being buried in a place that is abandoned by society used to give me chills. I knew that it was just her body being placed into the earth and that her soul was in a much better place, but there’s something about graveyards that makes a person feel lonely, and I didn't want her to feel that way.
Once Pops was buried next to her, there was a sense of comfort knowing that her body was no longer resting here alone. I’m still working through the grief and pain from their loss. Knowing that Johanna is near them brings me reassurance, just like it did with my grandparents. Unfortunately, saying goodbye to her has stirred up even more grief inside my heart.
I rub the chill away from my arms and lean closer into the embrace my mother holds me in. I’m thankful that Zane stayed home with Annabelle for me. I didn’t want her to have to witness another funeral, especially with how hard she took my Pops’. I want her to remember Johanna as the joyful woman she was—always checking in on us, bringing over freshly baked treats, taking Annabelle to the art studio downtown, and filling Annabelle’s library full of books.
I study the faces around me and notice that there are no smiles being shared in remembrance of her. I only observe sorrow over the loss of the wonderful person that Johanna was. She has a large turnout. Most of the town is here along with people that, I assume, are her family and friends from out of state. The town really came together to provide everything for the funeral. Zackary and Jerica Huffman, the owners of Enchanted Petals, donated dozens of flower arrangements. Cindy Potter offered her art studio up for the funeral reception. Olivia worked hard to provide the food while Grayson Tompkins offered free coffee. It is comforting, watching the town come together to honor Johanna.
I stand across from Raine. She’s standing next to Earl and Olivia with a blank expression on her face. I wish I could read her thoughts, reach a hand inside her heart, and wipe away her sadness.
Raine was always one to keep her emotions locked deep inside. She has the best poker face out of anyone I’ve ever known, but I used to be able to read the truth within her gray-blue eyes, see the chaos she hides behind her mask. She has away of appearing strong when around others. However, Iwasthe person she would reveal her true emotions to.
What would things be like if I hadn't messed up and became another reason she wanted to run away from Covewood all those years ago.
Becoming an adult, for me, has been learning to live with regret and doing my best to not allow it to consume me. The older I become, the more mistakes I seem to make, opportunities I miss, a longer list of people I’ve disappointed. Each passing day, I have to remind myself to be kind and forgiving, not just to others, but to myself.
We watch together as the top of Johanna’s casket slowly disappears into the ground. I whisper a last goodbye to the woman who was like family, dropping a purple iris flower, her favorite, on top of her casket. I hold a second iris in my hand and plan on giving it to Raine.
My mother takes my hand into hers and leads us toward Earl and Raine. My nerves grow with each step. I look at Raine, but her eyes remain forward, trapped in grief, fully unaware of my presence. I know that feeling all too well.
We wait as a few townspeople give the family hugs with words like “I’m sorry for your loss.” Once it’s our turn, my mother reaches for Raine first and pulls her into a tight hug. She whispers something in her ear, which causes her to blink away the blank stare she was wearing, and she looks at my mother as if seeing her for the first time.
Earl tugs at my arm and pulls me closer to him. “Can I hitch a ride with you? I want to escape these people,” he whispers.
“Yeah. Of course,” I tell him and nod toward the truck. “But Raine?—”
He waves at me and continues in a whisper, “I can tell that the idea of going to the farm is too much for her right now, so I let her off the hook on taking me home. She’s also wanting to skip thereception.”
“Is she going back home?” I ask quickly. The thought alone sends my stomach plunging out of my body—a constant reminder that she’ll leave again.
“Back to her hotel room for now.” Relief floods me with his answer.
Mom reaches up and places her hand on Raine’s cheek, giving her a look that only a mother could, before walking away and focusing on Earl. Now is my chance to talk with her.Why am I so nervous?We were able to talk decently well at the hospital. Things feel much more fragile now. I’m scared I’ll mess things up again.
I take the purple iris in my hand and place it into hers. My hand is trembling slightly, and I hope she doesn’t notice. Her eyes follow the flower, up my arm, and land on my face. Her expression is empty, but her eyes reveal the internal pain she’s suffering. I want to touch her, wrap my arms around her, comfort her like I used to do. However, I’ve lost the right to comfort her that way.
I open my mouth to say something—anything would be better than this silence—but I can’t find the right words. We stand there for a moment, staring at one another, until someone besides us clears their throat, and then Earl breaks our silence.
“I’m going to have Ryland take me home. Don’t you dare leave town without telling me, okay?”
My eyes study Raine’s. Would she leave this soon? Leave her grandfather during this time of grief?
“I won’t. Thank you for letting me skip the reception. I love you,” she mumbles and gives him a quick hug, and he whispers something to her before she turns to walk toward the parking lot. I watch her closely as she makes her way to a white Honda Accord and slides into the driver's seat.
“Let’s get going,” Earl says and walks to my truck.
As we both hop inside, I look back over toward Raine’s vehicle, but she’s already backing out and making her way to themain road. “Where is she staying?” I ask Earl and put the key into the ignition.
“Down at the old motel on highway ninety.”
“Why didn’t she stay with Olivia?” I question.
“I guess she wants to be alone during all of this,” he answers, and I can hear the sadness in his voice.
“Oh,” I say and pull the truck out onto the main road and turn left. “How long do you think she’ll stay?”
I peek over at Earl and see him shrug. I can’t help myself with asking the questions, but I sense that he isn’t in the mood for much small talk. I keep the rest of my questions to myself as we drive through the curvy roads that lead to their home—now,hishome. The thought of him sitting alone in the unfinished farmhouse brings back memories of my Pops and the same concern I had for him after Nan had passed.
As if reading my mind, Earl asks, “How did Cliff do it? Find a life after Anna…passed.” I can hear him fighting against tears as he speaks.
