by Carol Henry
Silence surrounded the snug alcove planked by budding hydrangea bushes not yet in bloom. The well-tended hillside cemetery contained many such secluded mourning areas where one could rest, reflect on their loved one’s passing, and celebrate their life. But her reflections were not so angelic or honorable. No. Her reflections centered on why she needed to visit Sebastian’s grave after all this time. The answer? She needed closure.
What had she seen in him? What had drawn her to him? Yes, he’d been a charismatic man and handsome. They had met at a July Fourth celebration. She hadn’t known about his wife—he hadn’t worn a ring. She’d been walking along the pier, tripped on one of the loose boards, and almost fell into the bay when he caught her and pulled her into his strong arms. He’d invited her for coffee at one of the cafés along the pier. She’d willingly agreed. The rest was history. He’d been charming, witty, and attentive. She’d recently broken off her relationship with Dustin, thanks to his infidelity. On top of that, her grandmother had fallen and broken her hip. After a long rehabilitation, she had died of pneumonia. Her grandmother had raised her after her parents’ deaths when she was ten, and she had no one to turn to at the time. Yearning for love and affection, she’d soaked up Sebastian’s warmth and caring like a woman dying of thirst on a parched desert. What bothered her the most was her asinine behavior at his burial, in front of the entire town of Lobster Cove as her witnesses.
Tears escaped, slid between her cold fingers. She wiped her face with trembling hands. Good Lord, she’d made a bigger mess of her life than she’d bargained for—there was no end to her shame.
****
Gavin knelt next to his wife’s headstone, closed his eyes, and sighed. He missed her. Had Celina already been gone two years? It seemed like forever. She had gone through so much the two years before her death, especially once the cancer took hold, filling her body. And although his wife no longer suffered, it didn’t ease his guilt at not having been there for her when she needed him the most. He’d let his own priorities take precedence before he’d realized how sick she had been. She had kept her sickness to herself.
How the hell did his sister expect him to even think about another relationship, let alone a temporary fling, so soon? Just because his mother had moved on and remarried after his father’s death didn’t make it any easier for him to do the same. His father had been in a VA home for so long his mother had lived on her own for years.
He laid his hand on the top of the etched headstone. It was cold to the touch. He removed his hand, stood back, placed a single rose at the bottom of the cement pad, and shook his head. He looked out over the wide expanse of the rows and rows of headstones and monuments. Several had small flags next to them, identifying them as veterans, reminding him he had to attend the annual memorial services on Monday. His mother expected it. Truth be told, he expected it of himself. Not so much for him, but for the others. He needed to honor those who gave so much for their country. He knew the price many had paid, including his father.
He closed his eyes and whispered an “I miss you” to his wife, and then, hands in his pants pockets, wound his way along a narrow path to the left, toward his father’s plot. And spotted Nora Spears sitting on a bench. Her head was bowed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. For a moment, he had the strongest urge to go to her, comfort her. The slight breeze and silence drifting through the cemetery washed over him. He had wanted to come and visit Celina’s resting place without family or a crowd of onlookers before Monday morning. He didn’t need anyone witnessing his grief. He assumed Nora Spears was of the same mind. He didn’t want to encroach on her private visit with Sebastian McClintock.
About to turn away, he took another moment to observe her in her time of sorrow. Nora raised her head and spotted him. His heart ached at the raw emotions etched on her tearstained face. He knew her grief. Losing a loved one had taken the zest for life right out of him. Unable to turn and leave without offering condolences, he slowly made his way to her side. The old wooden bench creaked as his body settled in, and he rested against the back.
“I assume you’ve decided, as I have, to come for a visit before the crowds descend Monday morning?”
She wiped her tearstained face with the back of her hand and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly between trembling lips. “Yes. It would be difficult to stalk your lover’s gravesite while their family was nearby.”
“Nora, I wasn’t insinuating anything.”
“That’s okay. I know Bethany has more than likely filled you in, unless you were already up to date on all the old gossip.”
“Lobster Cove is a small community, and having the McClintocks as one of my clients, I’m bound to hear things. Doesn’t mean I have to believe everything I hear.”
“You should. They’re more than likely all true. Chalk it up to being green behind the ears, but I’ve certainly learned my lesson.”
“Life is full of lessons. We all learn from our mistakes. Sometimes they’re nothing more than not prioritizing what’s really important in life before it’s too late. It seems as if we both had to experience a loved one’s death to appreciate what they truly meant to us.”
“I know you’re trying to comfort me, but in my case, I’ve learned the man I loved wasn’t really in love with me, and I found out too late. Talk about a shock. My tears aren’t for a lost love so much as for a lost life. Not to mention feeling sorry for myself over what a fool I made of myself in front of the entire town. So yes, I’ve no doubt the stories you’ve heard about me are true. I’m here today to pay proper respect. Nothing more.”
“Very commendable of you.”
“You’re being too kind. I’m pretty sure you’re the only one outside my circle of friends to think so. But thanks.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
He patted her clasped hands. They were cold to the touch from the cool morning air. Concerned for the sadness in her eyes, he had the strongest urge to take her in his arms and comfort her.
“What about you?” Nora asked, shifting to the side. “I take it you were visiting your wife’s resting place?”
“Yes, well, as much as I loved her, I had no idea what she was going through in the beginning. How she suffered.” He sat back, his hands secure, once again, in his coat pockets. “When it finally hit me how ill she had become, it was too late. The cancer had progressed beyond hope.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
He’d heard those words so many times over the last year it didn’t faze him any longer. They were nothing but words. Words hadn’t consoled him then or made the hurt any less. How his sister thought he could walk away was beyond him. You didn’t stop loving someone because they had died.
The sun shifted behind the trees, causing a shadow to fall over the stillness surrounding them. A squirrel scampered along the bushes across the way. Two birds twittered, flew overhead, and settled in a pine tree to the left.
Calmness settled inside his gut. He drew in a deep steadying breath and then rose. Nora also stood and gathered her blue peacoat collar tight around her neck. Her eyes found his. The misery he saw in them increased the urge to cradle her in his arms and hold her tight, soothe her frayed emotions. Instead, he clasped her shoulder in acknowledgement of a shared pain and then stepped back.
“If you’ll excuse me, I want to visit my father’s site while I’m here.”
“I was about to leave, as well.”
She looked embarrassed. He hadn’t meant to upset her. He nodded and then turned down the path to his right, leaving her standing alone to face her own demons. He had plenty demons of his own needing attention.
Chapter Seven
Memorial Day arrived with the sun shining over Lobster Cove and the excitement of the day’s events weighing on her mind. The May temperature along the coast was seasonally cool. She was glad she’d gone to the cemetery Saturday instead of waiting to visit Sebastian’s gravesite today, not wanting to run across any of the McClintocks
or their friends. She stayed outside the cemetery gates and kept to the side behind an old, gnarly, leafless maple tree where she could observe the proceedings in private.
The American Legion Color Guard stood at attention inside the cemetery entrance, waiting for the community organizations and general public to arrive. The American flag flew at half-mast. Exactly on the stroke of ten, the town supervisor stepped forward and announced the program to begin. Father Zack appeared and offered the opening prayer, and then a Legion member took his place at the podium and recited the World War I war poem “In Flanders Fields” by Lt. Colonel John McCrae:
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
A hush fell over the crowd, giving pause to reflect on the meaning of the words, which were then followed by the Legion’s Women’s Auxiliary singing “God Bless America.” Within seconds, those who had gathered at the cemetery joined in, filling the hill high above Lobster Cove with patriotic sentiment. Immediately following, the seven color guards issued their twenty-one-gun salute, followed by a lone bugler from the high school band playing “Taps.” Final statements were issued, and then Police Chief Daryl Johnson jumped in his squad car to initiate and lead the parade procession back to the town square.
The Legion Color Guard led those legionnaires who were able to march, followed by the Women’s Auxiliary, the local Coast Guard, the Boy Scouts, and the Girl Scouts, to the beat of the high school drum corps and marching band’s patriotic music. Bright orange poppies were worn by many, as well as being given out on the streets to those who didn’t yet have one. Once the procession stepped out onto First Street, they turned down Maple Avenue where kids on their bicycles, horses and riders, and a few stragglers wanting to be included, joined the parade. The local ambulance and a few fire trucks brought up the rear.
Nora joined Jackie and the others as they walked along the sidewalks, following the parade through town to the main square next to the bay. Jackie’s husband, Brad, was one of the color guards, while her boys, Timmy and Cody, marched with the Cub Scouts.
The parade turned down Main Street where flags flew from many of the homes’ front porches. The procession turned left, directly into the Town Park. Sea mist scents mingled with the odors coming from the grills filled with barbequed chicken, hot dogs, and hamburgers, as the morning sun rose and warmed the day. The parade marched toward the large white gazebo decorated in red, white, and blue bunting. Large wreaths adorned either side of the entrance as well as behind the podium in the center of the staging area. Small flags lined the perimeter of the gazebo, along with colorful potted plants. The band marched to the left, stopped, turned to those already assembled, and immediately started playing “America, The Beautiful” as others continued to fill the town square, waiting for the ceremonies to begin.
Nora was happy to observe from behind those wanting a front row view. Jackie had other ideas, however, and took her by the arm and tugged her through the crowd toward the front.
“Brad is one of those being honored today. I want to capture the moment with my camera.”
“I’ll wait here. You go ahead.”
Nora dug in her heels and insisted they at least find a spot to the side where she wouldn’t be up front and center. If it hadn’t been for Jackie insisting she come to watch her boys in the parade and Brad receive an award, she wouldn’t have come at all.
When she viewed those assembled in the gazebo, she was positive she shouldn’t have come. Sebastian’s mother, Eugenia McClintock, stood front and center, groomed to the nines from her salon-styled hairdo to her shiny, patent-leather, two-inch heels. Her red, white, and blue dress suit gave her a patriotic appearance to fit the occasion. Mark Logan was also there, standing tall in his uniform befitting a local war hero who had come back to Lobster Cove and now worked for Homeland Security. Juelle McClintock’s best friend, Katelyn, Mark’s wife, was sure to be close by. Another reason Nora preferred to remain hidden in the crowd. Dining at Mariner’s Fish Fry with Gavin a couple weeks ago hadn’t been easy, as it was Katelyn’s family’s diner. Though she’d managed. But bumping into Katelyn, face to face here at the park, was a different kettle of fish, something she didn’t want to do.
The day was turning out to be a disaster.
Jackie waved to Brad, who was standing in the front row on stage along with other legionnaires. Gavin hadn’t marched in the procession but stood in the background, a stern look on his face, an indication he was uncomfortable in his Air Force blues. Although not a shy man, he was an unassuming and humble man who didn’t knowingly seek attention. He looked so eye-catching standing there her heart skipped a beat.
He spotted her, nodded. The smile he gave her made his dimples more pronounced. Their gazes locked, and her insides warmed to molten lava thinking about their encounter at the cemetery on Saturday afternoon. She averted her gaze, and dismayed, was met with Eugenia McClintock’s infectious smile directed right at her, neatly breaking the spell between her and Gavin. She had a hard time reciprocating the woman’s smile. But not wanting to be rude, she nodded in acknowledgment. If she could, she would have inched her way to the back of the crowd and right on out of the park. Instead, she tried her best to return the smile and was surprised when Mrs. McClintock nodded in return. Thankfully, the American Legion commander, in full regalia, took the podium and welcomed everyone to “this auspicious occasion.” All eyes were focused on him.
“We have four members who have earned high honors for their distinguished service and continuous work with our disabled veterans and fund-raising efforts here in Lobster Cove since their return from serving our beloved country,” the commander addressed the crowd.
Brad, Gavin, Mark Logan, and Ernie Davis were called forward and each given a certificate of appreciation. The crowd erupted with cheers and thunderous applause while the band belted out another patriotic number. Once things quieted down, the commander called Eugenia McClintock forward.
“Many of you know Eugenia McClintock is an Auxiliary member of our great organization and has graciously donated funds in her son Sebastian’s name to the local veteran’s hospital. It is with deep appreciation that we recognize her for this wonderful donation. This gift will go a long way to help our wounded vets and their families.”
Eugenia didn’t hesitate to step forward, clear her throat, and scan the park with a bright smile on her face that about outdid the sun. Not one to shy away from the public eye, Eugenia presented a confidant air and an assumed gratitude as she accepted the award without hesitation.
As anticipated, the crowd cheered and clapped.
“Thank you everyone.” Eugena stepped to the microphone and scanned the crowd. “As you know, although I no longer am a shareholder of the McClintock’s, I still have the privilege to allocate funds from endowments for local causes. However, this particular asset became available, thanks in part to one of our citizens, and is earmarked for the rehabilitation of our local wounded vets. Therefore, I wish to acknowledge Nora Spears for her considerate and selfless donation to this worthy cause. Thank you, Ms. Spears.”
The stunned silence rang in Nora’s ears. She hadn’t expected Eugenia McClintock to be so vocal in regards to her gift. Actually, her refusal to take Sebastian’s money couldn’t be considered a gift. Eugenia had been extremely vocal in the beginning about who the money belonged to. It didn’t matter. She hadn’t wanted any part of it. But Mr. Jordan had explained the details of the will, and so she’d decided to donate the money to the McClintock fund for wounded vets. At least it would be put to good use. Why Eugenia had embarrassed her by formally announcing to the world that she had donated the mone
y as a gift, she had no idea. It wasn’t as if she had a ton of money to give away. She wanted the ground to open and swallow her. But then someone—Gavin—started clapping, and others followed suit.
Oh, God. All eyes were on her.
She met Gavin’s eyes and his warm appreciative smile. Her head grew light, her knees weak. Jackie wrapped her arm around her shoulders as the crowd clapped, filling the square with their appreciation.
“Buck up, girlfriend. Eugenia McClintock has welcomed you back into the community with open arms in front of the entire town.”
“I’m not sure it’s where I want to be.”
“Smile. Let them know you’re not hiding your head in the sand any longer.”
She smiled, mouthed a thank you to Eugenia McClintock, and was shocked when Jackie turned her around to face the crowd. What she didn’t see on everyone’s faces was condemnation, anger, or even pity. Relieved, she smiled, nodded, and sighed. She leaned into Jackie before her knees gave out.
The band erupted into another marching song after the commander’s farewell address.
“Can we go now? I need to assimilate all this.”
“I’d love to go with you, but I have to collect my boys. Brad and I are taking them on a whale-watching tour this afternoon. Robert Matheson and his niece Sandra Godfrey are offering a special tour for the scouts and their families this afternoon.”
“OMG, Jackie, you can’t leave me.” She followed Jackie as her friend headed toward the scouts. “Why would she do such a thing? Why would Eugenia McClintock put me on the spot in front of the entire town? We hadn’t exactly parted in good terms when I refused the money from the bank.”
“Maybe she’s trying to atone for her son’s less-than-perfect actions. Since her husband and son died, she and Mr. Jordan have become an item. Maybe she’s learned a thing or two about being humble this past year. Or discovered her son wasn’t such a nice boy after all. I know everyone thinks highly of Mr. Jordan.”
“You could be right.”
