cold and damp with sweat. How pleasant for him, she thought fleetingly.
His girlfriend, Maura, seemed distressed by the whole situation. In her smooth black dress and wrap, she also looked beautiful, like a Victoria’s Secret model. Next to her, Lily felt dismally ordinary.
Under the circumstances, she should not feel anything of the sort, but there it was. Her best friend was dead and Lily was having petty thoughts. She was a terrible person.
For Derek, there was a graceless but moving tribute from his caddie, who sobbed through the whole thing. Travis Jacobs had been with Derek for fifteen years and knew him in ways no one else would or could. Given what Lily knew about him, the eulogy was generous, sometimes funny and utterly sincere. When Travis concluded his reading, the sound of Louis Armstrong singing “What a Wonderful World” drifted from the speakers, and Lily’s heart was seized by melancholy.
She kept an eye on Jane Coombs, who sat beside her lawyer across the aisle. Judging by her devastated expression, she was in shock and grieving deeply. Jane hadn’t had much to say over the past few days. She behaved as though she didn’t know the children at all and was as lost as they were.
Lily tried not to think ill of the woman who had stolen her best friend’s husband, but it wasn’t easy. She distinctly remembered Crystal’s shell-shocked expression when she had come over to Lily’s house one night and said, “Derek has someone else. And I’m pregnant.” All in the same breath. Either one would have rocked her world. Together, they changed her life.
Lily tried not to think about that time. She tried not to think about all the hurt and humiliation Crystal had suffered. As she said in her tribute, Crystal had experienced soaring joys and profound blessings. That was what Lily told herself to dwell on. Not the other things, the failed marriage and the money troubles, or the fact that, right before she died, Crystal’s best friend had told her Charlie was failing third grade.
Crystal’s pain and confusion that day followed Lily to bed each night and haunted her dreams when she slept. She had no idea how to get rid of it. She glanced around the church and tried to take comfort from those gathered here—friends and associates, people from work and school.
Somehow they made it through the rest of the service, which included prayers she felt all the way down to her soul and songs that bore a hole in her heart. There was only one reason she managed to stay standing, and that was the fact that Crystal’s children were depending on her.
This was an issue, she expected, that would be addressed at the reading of the wills.
Charlie tugged on her hand. “When are we going to the seminary?” she whispered.
“Cemetery,” Lily whispered back. “In a little while. After ‘Over the Rainbow,’” she added, remembering that she had requested the version sung by the late Hawaiian artist, Iz. She thought it might remind Cameron of the time he and Crystal had taken ukelele lessons together. He hadn’t wanted any input into the service and in general was disconcertingly quiet about the loss of his parents.
She leaned closer and said into Charlie’s ear, “Why do you ask?”
“I need to know when to really say goodbye,” Charlie said.
Lily slipped her arm around the little girl’s shoulders. “Oh, honey,” she said in an aching whisper, “you don’t ever have to say goodbye.”
chapter 22
Lily had no idea what to wear to the meeting. What in the world did a person wear to the reading of a will?
Her choices were limited. Although she had been at Crystal’s place for nearly a week, she hadn’t brought much with her. It occurred to her that her school wardrobe didn’t seem quite right. A sweater embroidered with teddy bears might look fine in the classroom, but not at a serious meeting.
Her one and only business suit would suffice, she supposed. There would be lawyers present, finance would be discussed. She owed it to Crystal to appear professional.
She felt a keen sense of mission as she put on a white blouse and tied it in a crisp bow at the throat. Then she pulled on a dark A-line skirt and blazer with brass buttons. Great, she thought, stepping into low-heeled pumps. I look like Sergeant Pepper.
She pulled her hair in place with a pair of barrettes, then frowned at her image in the mirror. How did women pull this off?