Eight
Alyssa’s sisters came over the following morning. All of them looked as shell-shocked as she felt. She threw a huge pot of soup on the stove to feed them all, and they sat for a little while in the living room, just looking at each other. None of them could figure out what to say. Or do.
Alyssa swiped away a tear and started the conversation, needing the silence broken because they had to plan a funeral. How on earth were they supposed to plan something of that magnitude while they were still shell-shocked with grief? “While we’re all here, we need to talk about the funeral. Mom and Dad chose the funeral home and their burial plot, but we need to decide who is speaking and what is happening. Anyone want to sing?” They all had sweet voices, so it was truly up to whoever thought they could sing at that time. “I’m thinking Wednesday for the service. Their lawyer is planning to come here on Thursday to talk about the will. We all need to be here for that.”
Taylor swiped a tear from her eye. “I have the entire week off, so I’m good to help with whatever.”
Lauren sniffled. “I could use help cleaning out their closets and such. I’m guessing we’ll be getting the house ready to sell.”
“Move in with me. You don’t need those memories surrounding you. I think right now they’d hurt too much. We’ll all go there Saturday and get it cleaned out . . . once we know what the lawyer has to say. You never know . . . maybe Mom and Dad were swimming in debt.” Alyssa took her sister’s hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t know that any of us need to be alone this week.”
That got a smile from several of the sisters. “Slumber party at Alyssa’s!” Lauren called, and there were a few chuckles.
“Remember that night when all the cousins went hunting for lightning bugs together?” Kayla asked. “We were up really late—which may have been eleven to my child mind—and we all slept in the living room telling stories of the Bear Lake ghost. I think we talked a little about the Bear Lake monster as well, but I can’t quite remember for sure on that one. It was a favorite lake topic, though.”
Amanda grinned. “We had the bugs in jars, and we kept them inside our sleeping bags. I tried to read by the light of the bugs, but they just weren’t bright enough.”
Alyssa shook her head. “We were all giggling half the night, and Dad finally came out and told us we needed to zip it and get some sleep.”
Lauren frowned. “Why don’t I remember this?” She obviously felt left out of the memory.
“Because you were about four,” Alyssa told her sister. “One of the worst parts of being the youngest is not having all the fun memories the rest of us have.” She nudged Lauren with her shoulder as they sat side-by-side on the couch. “What’s your favorite memory of the lake?”
Lauren thought for a moment. “I remember being there one May, and we came up expecting to spend the week water skiing, but it snowed instead, so we made snowmen and built snow forts. And we did a little snowmobiling. It was amazing.”
They all grinned at that.
“I remember that,” Kayla said. “I remember a snowball fight, too, and I think it was Alyssa who threw a little too hard and a little too high . . .”
“And I broke the living room window, and Mom said no more snowballs, because if I was packing them that hard, I was going to give one of my sisters a concussion, and she wasn’t making an emergency room trip because we didn’t know how to behave when there was snow on the ground.” Alyssa found herself laughing, and she surprised herself with it. Was it even okay to laugh right after your parents died? “Anyway, the funeral . . .”
Kayla raised her hand. “I’ll sing. But I’m not singing ‘Amazing Grace’ or anything like that. I’m singing Colin Raye’s ‘Love Me.’” Her whole face crumpled as she named the song, and she buried her face in Lauren’s shoulder, because Lauren was on the middle couch cushion. “I can’t believe they’re really dead.”
Lauren wrapped her arm around Kayla, stroking her shoulder. “I can’t either. This is crazy.”
Amanda bowed her head for a moment, and when she lifted it, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “What’s your favorite memory of Dad?” she asked no one in particular.
Taylor was the first to respond. “Do you remember that first summer when Mom kept us all at the lake with her, and Dad would drive up on Thursday nights for a long weekend? Well, when he got there after being gone one weekend, he tried to teach me to ride one of the water scooters. I almost ran into a boat dock with it, and he was shaking his head at me. He told me that it would be Mom’s job to teach me to drive because his nerves couldn’t handle it.” She shook her head. “I giggled and giggled, and then I told Mom, and Mom was laughing hysterically. When Dad came into the kitchen, she looked at him with a straight face and said, ‘I think it’s going to have to be your job to teach this girl to drive, Dwight. She just walked into a wall, and I can’t be responsible for that.’ Dad’s face went pure white, but he nodded. I don’t think he ever realized she was just having fun with him.”
The sisters laughed, even as they struggled through their tears.
“I can just see it,” Kayla said. “Dad would never ask Mom to do something he didn’t think he could do himself.”
“Do you remember the time Mom backed into the mailbox at the lake house, and she paid a neighbor to fix the mailbox, but she kept the van in the garage all weekend so Dad wouldn’t see it? She got it taken care of while he was at work the next week. We were all sworn to secrecy, and I remember giggling about it with Hannah.” Alyssa grinned. “Mom always said she never kept secrets from Dad, but I don’t know if he ever found out about that fender bender.”
“Probably not.” Amanda scooted to the floor and hugged her knees to her, reminding Alyssa of the way she’d sat when they were small.
“So, Kayla’s singing. Does anyone feel up to the eulogy?” Alyssa asked. She knew they had to get this planned, whether they wanted to or not. The funeral preparations were the main priority for the day. That and grieving.
Lauren sniffed once more. “I didn’t take all those public speaking classes for nothing. I’ll do it.”
Alyssa typed the note into her phone with her thumbs. “I want to tell people not to send flowers. They should donate the money instead. But to what?” She had no desire to deal with a million flowers. They would just remind her that their parents were gone.
“Battered women,” Amanda said, avoiding Alyssa’s eyes. “I think there should be a lot more education on just what kind of behavior qualifies as abuse. Some of the smartest women I know have stayed in abusive relationships for years, feeling like they deserved what they got.”
“I can agree with that.” Though Alyssa knew her sister was talking about her, she believed in the cause. The others all agreed, and she made a note. “I’m supposed to have a conference call this evening with the funeral home director, so I’d like all the little details lined up.” She glanced up at her sisters. “Do we want a meal provided? I know it’s customary, but I’d rather it just be the five of us grieving together and not a bunch of people we don’t know.”
Taylor tilted her head to one side. “I would rather it just be us as well. We’ll go to Dad’s favorite restaurant, and we can just be together with no one patting us and telling us how sorry they are for our loss.”
“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Amanda said. “We’ll just meet up at the Longhorn in Ogden and hope we can get Brandi for our waitress. Dad liked her best.”
“Oh, Dad just liked to eat,” Kayla said. “Remember that time he tried to make ribs on the grill, and they were burnt? He’d been thinking about those ribs all day, so he took us all the way to North Salt Lake just so he could eat ribs. We were all asleep before we got back to the lake house.”
Alyssa frowned. “What are we going to do with the lake house? None of us wanted it sold, and I would bet Mom and Dad left it to all of us together.”
“And the house in Kaysville,” Lauren added. “That’s two houses. And M
om’s car is paid for.”
“I think you get the car,” Taylor said to Lauren. “You’re the only one of us without a new car. Yours is a demolition derby reject.”
“Hey! Be nice to Galahad.”
“That old boat does not deserve to be called Galahad,” Amanda said. “He should be called rust bucket or something.”
Lauren crossed her arms over her chest as if she was angry. “I don’t like you guys dissing my car, but you’re right. I do need a new one. If only for job searches. Maybe I’ll start searching for jobs at the lake.”
“I think we should Airbnb the lake house,” Alyssa said softly. “We all need to think about exactly what we want, and we can talk after Mr. Kunz leaves on Thursday. We’ll have a better idea of what we need to be discussing then.”
“Do we need to disclose the secret passages on Airbnb?” Taylor asked, her eyes full of memories. “Remember how none of the cousins knew about the secret passages and they just thought we were the best hide and seekers ever? I loved being able to go through the bookcase in the downstairs living room and pop up into the family room upstairs, and from there we could go anywhere. And they thought they were so smart guarding the stairs. Especially Ben. He was such a dork about it.”
Ben was their cousin, and he was Alyssa’s age. He’d thought he was so smart, but he’d never figured out any of the passages.
“And all of the passages between the bedrooms upstairs? I always giggled when we played Clue because of those secret passages. I was sure he was going to figure it out, but he never did.” Amanda shook her head. “It’s hard to believe he’s a doctor now when he was so dense as a kid.”
Kayla looked far away. “My favorite part of being at the lake was always helping Mom with the flowers . . .”
“You complained about it whenever it was your turn!” Alyssa said with a frown.
“I know I did, but looking back at the long talks we each got to have with Mom as we helped, I realize it was the highlight of my summers. We each put in an hour of work every day, and my favorite was when I got to sit with Mom, surrounded by the beauty she always made sure enveloped the lake house, and she would talk to me about anything that was on my mind. Sometimes I just wanted to talk about my dreams of building a treehouse in the big oak tree in the back . . .”
Lauren sighed. “I loved that treehouse. It had eight floors.”
“It did!” Kayla grinned. “I could build even then. Dad always called me his favorite son.”
“Is the treehouse even still there?” Alyssa asked. “It’s been so long since I’ve been to the lake . . .”
“It is,” Lauren said. “I was there a few years ago. It’s looking a little dilapidated, but I think with a fresh coat of paint and a hammer and nails used by someone who knew how to use them, it would be perfect again.”
Kayla smiled. “I’ll make sure to take some the next time I go.”
Alyssa thought she looked excited at the prospect of working on her first real building project as an adult.
As the day wore on, they made the rest of the arrangements for the funeral, but more importantly, they shared memories of their parents at their favorite place in the entire world.
The later it got, the more the sisters realized they didn’t want to split up. They had all made sure they had off until the following Monday, and they planned to take the time to just be together and grieve.
“Do you still have real-sized clothes?” Amanda finally asked Alyssa. “You know, like you wore BT?”
Alyssa started to ask what BT meant, but she realized it meant Before Tim. Her sisters had always measured her life before and after he’d come into her life. “I do. In one of the spare rooms. And I have a washer and dryer. And extra toothbrushes and toothpaste, and so much room. Please stay.” They all knew she didn’t want to be alone, but none of them blamed her. They didn’t want to be alone either. No, it was a week for the sisters to stay together.
“I get the green room,” Amanda said, getting to her feet and stretching. “I’m going to find nightgowns for all of us, and we’ll throw the clothes we’re wearing into the washer. It won’t hurt any of us to wear them two nights in a row.”
Together, they went about their pre-bedtime routines, and they found clothes that fit. They would stay together as long as they could get away with it, because only together could they face the overwhelming grief of losing two of the greatest people they’d ever known. Dwight and Elizabeth Romriell.
Nine
The day of the funeral was long and arduous, and the sisters were glad they’d made the decision to have a joint funeral for their beloved parents. They couldn’t go through this twice in such a short period of time. Kayla sang, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Lauren spoke, her voice strong and steady, despite the tears running down her face.
All five sisters stood in a line as people left the funeral home where the service had been held.
“Your father saved me from years of migraine pain,” one woman stopped to say. Alyssa didn’t recognize her, and she doubted her sisters did either, but they heard stories like that over and over as people walked past them, shaking their hands or embracing them, depending on how well they knew them.
The funeral home was filled completely, with people standing at the back to pay their respects.
It took more than an hour for the five sisters to accept condolences from everyone in the group, and then they drove to the cemetery, where a brief prayer was spoken by the pastor of the church they’d all grown up attending. They had chosen a headstone that was for both parents, because they all felt as if their parents wouldn’t want to be separated—even in death.
As soon as they had each sprinkled dirt on the caskets, Alyssa led the others to their cars, which had been first in line between the funeral home and the cemetery, and then they followed their plans exactly.
They all drove back to Alyssa’s house, where they were staying for the week. Everyone had collected their clothes, and they took Alyssa’s car to Longhorn. When they walked in, they requested Brandi. She was on her way out the door, but she saw the sisters and said, “They’re mine. I’ll stay for them.”
After they’d been seated, Brandi came over to check on the sisters, showing them pictures from the cruise she’d taken recently with her daughters. “What brings you girls in today? Your dad isn’t here. Are you allowed to come without him?” The words were said jokingly, but only Lauren—who seemed to have a gift for speaking through pain—was able to answer.
“Mom and Dad were killed in a car accident on Saturday night. We’re here to commemorate their lives, rather than eating with a bunch of strangers who tell us how sorry they are.” Lauren had tears in her eyes, and Brandi gasped, sinking down into a seat at the table with them.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” Brandi reached for the hand of the sister closest to her, Taylor, as she sat, absolutely stunned at the news. “I can’t believe it.”
Alyssa nodded. “Trust me. We understand. It’s all we’ve been able to say since we got the news. Funeral was today, and reading of the will is tomorrow.”
“I don’t even know what to say. I loved your parents. You all know that. I’ll be praying for peace for all of you as you go through this.” Brandi shook her head. “Who gets the job of sorting out the estate?”
“Probably Alyssa,” Lauren said. “She’s oldest and good at stuff like that. We won’t know for sure until we’ve talked to the lawyer, though.”
Brandi pulled out a pad. “What drinks do you want? Let me at least feed you since I can’t take your pain away.”
They all ordered their drinks and talked softly as Brandi hurried away to get them.
“Even waiters and waitresses loved Mom and Dad. What are we going to do without them?” Kayla asked, her eyes bleak.
Alyssa shook her head at her sister. “That’s not why we’re here. We went to the funeral to mourn and to grieve. We’re here to have a celebration of their lives as only the people who l
oved them best are able to have.”
Brandi came with the drinks, catching the last thing Alyssa had said. She had tears in her eyes. “I’ll start off your celebration by telling you my favorite thing about each of your parents. Dwight was always so giving and generous. Any time he saw a group of police officers, he’d make sure to pay their bill. Same with any of the armed forces. He was kind. One of the busboys spilled an entire plate of food on him, and he just cleaned it off, didn’t get angry, and didn’t ask for any money off his check.
“Elizabeth was so gentle, and she loved you girls more than anything else on this earth. She would talk about each of you. When Lauren graduated from college, she brought me pictures of her in her cap and gown and all five of you together. She called you her precious girls. Everyone in this place knew who they were, and they were loved by everyone whose lives they touched.”
All five sisters had tears in their eyes at the beautiful, unexpected tribute.
“Thank you,” Kayla said. “We needed to hear how other people saw them today.”
Brandi brushed away her own tears. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to get your order, but there’s no hurry. I’m here as long as you girls are.” She hurried away from them, going back into the kitchen. She obviously needed to compose herself as well.
Alyssa smiled. “Let’s figure out what we want to eat so we don’t keep Brandi forever, and then we’ll go around the table. First everyone can say what they thought was Dad’s best quality. And then we’ll do it all again for Mom. We’re celebrating the wonderful people who gave birth to us today. We can grieve more tomorrow, but today is for loving them.”
It was an hour and a half and much laughter and tears later when they left the restaurant. They’d had six different people who worked for the place come to the table and offer their condolences, all of them mentioning what they would miss most about their parents.
Changing Dreams (Bear Lake Dreamers Book 1) Page 5
