in his seat. His blue eyes meet mine, softening sadly. “I just…”
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I’m here to be supportive. Alphabetical torture tactics are off the table today, boss. I promise.”
Climbing from the car, I straighten my simple, black halter dress. I curled my hair, pinning it so that it cascades down my back. Vehicles line the paved road that lines the cemetery. Six men in uniform walk by, carrying a casket draped with an American flag. Mitch, and a boy who looks barely legal, both dressed in black suits, walk just behind them. A small crowd follow, holding flags and little paper memorial cards, all heading up to where more men in uniform stand holding guns. Taking Luke’s arm, I allow him to lead me toward the crowd that has gathered.
Noticing that the service has already started, we hang back a little and watch. I have never been to a funeral, especially not a military one; I had no idea what to expect. I thought I would feel uncomfortable, like an outsider who didn’t belong here while everyone around me grieves the loss of a man I didn’t know. Instead, in this moment, I find myself in awe. The respect shown by the men in uniform as they pay tribute to one of their own is very humbling and emotional. Every part honors a man who was a part of something bigger than himself, but that’s not all. The respect for the family, for those who lost a loved one, has me fighting back tears more than once.
Mitch sits up front, his eyes covered by sunglasses. He seems fine on the surface, but when his jaw ticks, I see the cracks in the mask he wears so often. I hate watching him hurt, especially having seen how deep his scars really are. I want to go to him, but I can’t, not yet. I don’t want to cause a disruption.
Once it’s over, Luke and I wait for everyone to shake their hands and extend their condolences before making our way over. By the time we reach the front, I see Mitch step away and head toward the road.
“Sorry for your loss, Micah,” Luke says to the kid when we reach him. “Frank was a good man.”
“Thank you for coming; it’s Luke, right?”
“Yeah,” Luke nods, “Shelby, I want you to meet Micah, a friend of Mitch’s. Micah, this is Shelby Winston, she runs the shop. Without her we’d be lost.”
“Nice to meet you.” Micah shakes my hand, but my eyes are on Mitch. Facing away from us, he leans against a tree. People walk by, glancing at him, but don’t approach. It’s funny how his body language wards everyone else off, but at the same time, draws me in.
“Excuse me.”
Unable to help myself. I slip my arm free of Luke’s grip and make my way over. I don’t know what to say to him, but I know now isn’t the time for some meaningless words. Slipping my hand in his, I lace our fingers. “Is the word of the day cremation, sweetness?” he asks, clearing his throat.
“Hi,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say.
Turning me to face him, Mitch releases my hand and pulls me into his chest, burying his face in my neck. “Hi,” he chokes out, squeezing me tightly.
I can feel the tension begin to leave his body. My fingers slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his back. When he pulls back, he presses his lips to my forehead. The tender gesture causes a shiver to run down my spine. “I know that you didn’t have to drive all the way up here, but thank you.”
“Told you that you weren’t alone,” I reply. Releasing him, I straighten his tie and smile up at him. “I meant it.”
“There he is,” a woman calls out behind me. “See, Maddie, I told you he wouldn’t take off without saying hello.”
“Wow.” Stepping around me, Mitch removes his sunglasses and takes in the women walking over with Luke and Micah. The older of the two has olive skin and long, black, wavy hair pulled up into a clip to keep it off her neck. The other is petite, blonde, and very pregnant. Both are in black dresses, and even though I almost can’t believe it, the
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I’m here to be supportive. Alphabetical torture tactics are off the table today, boss. I promise.”
Climbing from the car, I straighten my simple, black halter dress. I curled my hair, pinning it so that it cascades down my back. Vehicles line the paved road that lines the cemetery. Six men in uniform walk by, carrying a casket draped with an American flag. Mitch, and a boy who looks barely legal, both dressed in black suits, walk just behind them. A small crowd follow, holding flags and little paper memorial cards, all heading up to where more men in uniform stand holding guns. Taking Luke’s arm, I allow him to lead me toward the crowd that has gathered.
Noticing that the service has already started, we hang back a little and watch. I have never been to a funeral, especially not a military one; I had no idea what to expect. I thought I would feel uncomfortable, like an outsider who didn’t belong here while everyone around me grieves the loss of a man I didn’t know. Instead, in this moment, I find myself in awe. The respect shown by the men in uniform as they pay tribute to one of their own is very humbling and emotional. Every part honors a man who was a part of something bigger than himself, but that’s not all. The respect for the family, for those who lost a loved one, has me fighting back tears more than once.
Mitch sits up front, his eyes covered by sunglasses. He seems fine on the surface, but when his jaw ticks, I see the cracks in the mask he wears so often. I hate watching him hurt, especially having seen how deep his scars really are. I want to go to him, but I can’t, not yet. I don’t want to cause a disruption.
Once it’s over, Luke and I wait for everyone to shake their hands and extend their condolences before making our way over. By the time we reach the front, I see Mitch step away and head toward the road.
“Sorry for your loss, Micah,” Luke says to the kid when we reach him. “Frank was a good man.”
“Thank you for coming; it’s Luke, right?”
“Yeah,” Luke nods, “Shelby, I want you to meet Micah, a friend of Mitch’s. Micah, this is Shelby Winston, she runs the shop. Without her we’d be lost.”
“Nice to meet you.” Micah shakes my hand, but my eyes are on Mitch. Facing away from us, he leans against a tree. People walk by, glancing at him, but don’t approach. It’s funny how his body language wards everyone else off, but at the same time, draws me in.
“Excuse me.”
Unable to help myself. I slip my arm free of Luke’s grip and make my way over. I don’t know what to say to him, but I know now isn’t the time for some meaningless words. Slipping my hand in his, I lace our fingers. “Is the word of the day cremation, sweetness?” he asks, clearing his throat.
“Hi,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say.
Turning me to face him, Mitch releases my hand and pulls me into his chest, burying his face in my neck. “Hi,” he chokes out, squeezing me tightly.
I can feel the tension begin to leave his body. My fingers slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his back. When he pulls back, he presses his lips to my forehead. The tender gesture causes a shiver to run down my spine. “I know that you didn’t have to drive all the way up here, but thank you.”
“Told you that you weren’t alone,” I reply. Releasing him, I straighten his tie and smile up at him. “I meant it.”
“There he is,” a woman calls out behind me. “See, Maddie, I told you he wouldn’t take off without saying hello.”
“Wow.” Stepping around me, Mitch removes his sunglasses and takes in the women walking over with Luke and Micah. The older of the two has olive skin and long, black, wavy hair pulled up into a clip to keep it off her neck. The other is petite, blonde, and very pregnant. Both are in black dresses, and even though I almost can’t believe it, the
Similar Books
