Full Circle by Susan Rogers Cooper Page A

rocker. All new since our last pastor.
    He met me at the door with outstretched arms, grabbing me by the arms and squeezing. ‘E.J., it’s so good to see you! I’m so sorry it had to be under these circumstances! Come! Sit! Coffee? Tea? A soda, perhaps?’
    I came, I sat, I declined refreshment. I pulled the paper the Lubbock attorney had sent me out of my purse and handed it to him. ‘This proves power of attorney.’
    ‘As if I would doubt it?’ He chuckled.
    ‘Now, about the service,’ I said.
    ‘Since you declined a private service, I suppose we’ll need to have it in the sanctuary,’ he said with a sigh. ‘The chapel would be too small for the hordes of curiosity seekers bound to attend.’
    I smiled stiffly. ‘I doubt if we’ll have that many. Now, about the service . . .’
    ‘I’ve selected some hymns I feel appropriate for the occasion.’ He then read off three of the drier selections in the Methodist hymnal.
    I shook my head. ‘I don’t feel . . .’
    ‘I’ve spoken with Choir Leader Johnson. He feels under the circumstances a soloist would be out of the question. A few flowers, possibly. Sedately scattered—’
    ‘Reverend Rush!’ My voice was loud so as to be heard above his.
    ‘Why, yes, E.J.?’ His look of hurt surprise would have withered a lesser person.
    I shoved a piece of paper into his hand. On it were written the titles to three songs. ‘These were Terry’s favorite hymns. These are the songs I want sung at the funeral.’
    He laughed nervously. ‘But these songs are inappropriate for a funeral, E.J.’
    ‘I really don’t care, Reverend Rush. These were Terry’s favorite hymns. These hymns will be sung in her honor. And I’m sure as a friend of Roy’s, Tom Johnson would be happy to do the solo honor himself on “Amazing Grace.” As for the flowers, there will be no flowers. People will be instructed to give any money they want to donate in the Lester family’s memory to the Codderville Children’s Foundation, a favorite charity of both Terry and Roy. The family will be buried at Memorial Hill Cemetery where Terry and Roy bought plots several years ago.’ I hesitated. Then I said, ‘I’ll have to see about two more, I guess.’ I stood up. ‘Now if you’ll kindly draw up a bill for the use of the church and your services, Reverend Rush, and mail it to me, I’ll be happy to add it to the pile of other bills awaiting probate. Good day.’
    I left the room to an amazing quiet. Not a sound. Not a peep. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to turn back for a look.

SIX
    BLACK CAT RIDGE, TEXAS
    I watch her every day, knowing in my heart that we’ll be together soon. I know I messed up last time, not giving her a chance to get to know me. But now she does; she sees me as a friend. Friendship can easily move into love. It happens all the time. She’ll love me soon, as much as I love her. And we’ll be together forever. And there will be no one to stop us. The rest of them will all be gone.
    E.J., THE PRESENT
    I waited outside the theater in the ninety-degree heat, all the windows in the Volvo rolled down, fanning myself with a piece of paper I found on the floor. It was eight o’clock, but the sun hadn’t completely set for the night, and the heat was still stifling. There was a crowd at the ticket booth, paying admittance for the many movies playing at the quadraplex. The doors opened and Graham and Lotta came out. I waved and they came over to the car.
    ‘Why are y’all leaving?’ I asked. ‘The movie’s not over yet, is it?’
    ‘No, not yet, but I didn’t want Megan and that dude seeing us, so I thought we should leave,’ Graham said.
    Feeling guilty, I rummaged in my purse until I found a twenty and handed it to my son. ‘It’s my fault you had to leave, so this is reimbursement,’ I said.
    ‘Ah, Mom, you didn’t have to do that,’ my son said as he hurriedly stashed the bill in his back pocket.
    ‘Shoo now before they come out,’ I