Chapter 196

NOLAN

Thick morning fog rolled through the cemetery in a hurry, kissing the edges of headstones that cluttered its path. It dissolved under the slow footsteps of three black-clad mourners crossing the dewy grounds as they picked their way toward the yawning mouth of an open grave.

A lone priest in a long black cassock stood waiting near the casket. In one hand he clutched an old book, a fragile artifact bound in soft purple cloth. The other hand rose in greeting as first Nolan, then Yena and Cindy came into his view, stomping out fog in their wake.

Nolan let go of Yena’s hand when they reached the old man’s graveside. He exchanged some words with the priest, with whom he’d earlier spoken on the phone, and then made introductions between the holy man and his wife and good friend.

“An honor to meet you all.” The priest bowed his head. “I am very sorry it is under these circumstances.”

The man was middle-aged, but his voice sounded weathered, perhaps permanently hoarse from decades of overuse.

“My condolences,” he added, taking turns looking the three of them in the eye, “for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Nolan gave the holy man a slight bow of his own head.

He shared brief glances with Yena and then Cindy, who both nodded at him encouragingly. Then returned his gaze to the priest.

“This will be it,” he said. “We can begin.”

The priest coughed quietly and pulled his wool scarf a little tighter against the cold. Then he took his book into both hands and pulled on a flat red ribbon bookmark to open it up to a predetermined page.

With a rhythmic cadence to his rasping voice, he read aloud a passage from the holy book first. Then he instructed the mourners to bow their heads and recited an even more poetic prayer.

The religious performances completed, the priest took a ceremonious step backward, away from the coffin, and invited Nolan to deliver the words that he had prepared.

The prince had written out his eulogy in the small hours of the morning, when he could not sleep. His notes were folded up and currently residing inside the breast pocket of his jacket. But he didn’t need them. He remembered what he wrote.

Nolan fixed his eyes on the big coffin that housed his old friend’s remains, took a small step toward them, and began.

“Thank you, Alaster.” Unlike the priest’s soft utterances, Nolan’s voice was clear and loud, and carried across the cemetery’s lengths along with the rolling fog. “Thank you for being my only friend for many years. You were the only person who ever encouraged me, when I was a child, to be a whole person. I thank you, friend, for staying with me until I did.”

At his side, Yena dabbed her eyes with a silk handkerchief that Nolan had insisted she pack in her pocketbook this morning.

“You were not my father,” Nolan continued, “but you treated me like a son. I did not have to be anything, do anything to please you. You loved me for who I was. It’s because of your example that I know I will be able to do the same for my own son. Today, your body, so long your adversary, finally rests in peace. And I know your spirit lives on, because it is alive in the hearts of those who remember you.”

Nolan paused.

He was a very experienced public speaker, and could not remember the last time he’d gone breathless while delivering a speech. But the air in his lungs was less under his control than usual.

He had to stop and think through several slow, deliberate breaths before he could speak again.

Yena slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze.

“And even after we are dead and gone,” Nolan finished, “your name will outlast us all, and with it, the legacy of your goodness, your kindness, and your quiet strength.”

EVAN

Out in the front yard of Tina and Peter’s house, Evan was hard at work.

His gray t-shirt was soaked through with sweat, despite the cool and overcast weather. And he was practically covered in dirt—it was on his jeans, his arms, his work gloves, his neck, his face, his backwards and askew baseball cap.

He had a small axe in hand and was actively breaking apart branches that had been lopped off the tall trees earlier in the day. He sorted the small pieces by shape and chucked them into bins that he’d have to carry to the woodshed later, before it rained.

Evan was just taking a tiny break to swipe the back of his wrist along his dripping brow when he saw Nolan and Yena’s limo turn onto the block.

He waved a lazy hand into the air in greeting. Then lodged the axe into the tree stump he’d been using for a sawhorse, deciding that his job was done for now.

Tina had insisted Evan do “simply as much as he could” to clean up the yard before they arrived.

He looked around at his work, pretty pleased with what he’d accomplished.

The crew that came in to trim the trees this morning had left the yard a mess of debris—on purpose. Peter never let them clear it, always insisting he would process the downed branches for firewood. Evan knew immediately he’d wind up doing the wood chopping himself; his father always claimed he would, but after putting it off long enough, Evan would always step in to finish it.

But when Yena called this morning and arranged to bring her prince husband over for a meal, Tina went into panic mode about the state of the property.

“He does not care,” Evan assured his mother a dozen times, and though Tina agreed with him in principle, she still insisted her son clear the front yard as much as was possible.

Yena led the way up to the house, with Nolan trailing behind her.

“Wow,” she said, smiling deviously like she was about to deliver a zinger. “You really get all dressed up for company, don’t you?”

Evan laughed. “Hey, I just work here. Apparently.”

“It’s good to see you, bro.”

“You too, sis. Nolan.” He nodded at his brother-in-law, making an effort to be respectful. That was his new project with Yena’s husband, who’d been showing Evan some respect and really deserved to be treated in kind.

“Evan,” Nolan replied, offering a polite smile.

“Don’t worry.” Evan un-velcroed and started tugging off his filthy work gloves. “I’ll get cleaned up before I join you guys for lunch. I been instructed to tell you to go on inside, and that Mom’s in the kitchen.”

“K, we’ll see you in there.”

Evan watched their backs as Yena and Nolan went into the house ahead of him. He lingered behind, going up the stairs extra slowly. At the top step he paused, turned around and took a seat.

A chill in the air brushed against Evan’s damp skin and started dropping his core temperature quickly. His fast-beating heart finally started slowing down.

It got a little easier for him each time. Seeing the two of them together.

Maybe soon enough it wouldn’t hurt at all.