by Clare Hexom
Men’s voices in the foyer, then the dining room.
My body trembled as I spoke with finality, “Answer me, Dana. Does Chad know Ben is alive?”
Her cold eyes froze, glared. “Yes. Chad has always known.”
EPILOGUE
Wearing Aunt Judith’s veil and redesigned gown, I stood proudly beside my Ben, whom I’d love forever as she loved her Steven. The late November sun streamed a prism of color upon us through stained glass windows. A Thanksgiving wedding was fitting considering the tragedies we had endured.
The day was frosty. The remaining leaves clung to the trees as a backdrop of brown and gold interspersed with evergreen above the layer of pristine snow Aunt Judith predicted many weeks ago.
Caleb stood tall beside his father and Ronnie stood on crutches beside me in her floor-length charmeuse gown. Rick sat in a wheelchair, his body leaning left. Mom and his family sat with Tony’s widow and daughter in the pew beside him. Aileen, her husband, and their family sat behind them. Our families and friends filled many of the remaining rows.
The Hollands, able to attend, seated themselves likewise across the aisle. Ben’s mother sniffled often and held onto his father’s hand throughout the ceremony. Ben’s brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, and friends sat in the rows behind them.
The Kings, Eggers, and the Engstroms, Ginny Hughes, her husband, and our new friends Jillian and Travis, Rachel and Adam were there, too. Mom cried and smiled at the same time. Tears of happiness for us and tears of sadness for Judith, whom we’d buried beside Uncle Steven.
My cheek was healing but a scar would remain as a reminder of that awful day. My brother was recovering better than expected, despite Erik smashing a large figurine over his head. His droopy face was cheerful when Caleb walked me down the aisle.
Erik had shown up at the hedge that Sunday in May, over seven years ago. He’d found Dana standing beside Harwood’s body. No questions asked, he buried his friend to protect her and sacrificed the rest of his short life to please her. She killed her husband, hoping for a life with Ben.
Emma remained in protective services but Missy wanted to raise her. The police removed baseball bats from the Fowlers’ garage to hold as evidence in Jack’s murder.
Ronnie tracked down a Harwood uncle living in North Carolina who offered to arrange to have Jack’s remains removed from beneath the round patio and interred beside his mother.
Mom invited us to live in the Kenwood home with her for as long as we wanted. She put a never-ending smile on Caleb’s face when she welcomed Sage, too, whether for his benefit or to warn her of lingering spirits. Judith’s neighbor found homes for her cats. The yippy little minion stole Grant’s heart. Natalie took in the blue-ribbon retriever after seeing how the dog took to Rick and put a smile on his sad face.
Our wedding was a comforting event, as was the news that our second baby was due in late summer. Reverend Grant pronounced us husband and wife, and after our kiss, we turned and faced our guests. There in the back row hovered a familiar glowing essence—Lance Garner. He tipped his head, ever so slightly, and waved graciously. His spirit then wafted into a mist of gray.
