“Mom and Hunter were cut from the same cloth. She loved him with everything inside her, and he did the same for her. Everyone knows she made sure he had the lemonade he loved, and for the longest time, Hunter had a special desk where Mom kept his crossword puzzles for him.
“She did that for everyone important to her. If Mom found out someone loved to bake, she’d put together a recipe book for them. When Gray married Elise, she set up a sewing studio for her. When Matt told Mom he missed his kids, she put together care packages for them and mailed them to Montana. When my daughters got married, Mom sent cards and gift baskets filled with fruit and chocolate.”
Colton had so much more he could say, but he felt like he needed to wrap this up. He looked down at his notes, his vision blurring with tears. He had no idea how to finish or what to say next, and panic reared within him.
Ames Hammond watched his brother at the pulpit, and there was definitely something wrong. He sat on the end of the row, and without hesitating, he got to his feet and started toward Colton. He had no idea what he’d say once he got up there, and he certainly didn’t want any eyes on him. It was bad enough that he had to dedicate the gravesite, but his father said it was a simple prayer. Ames knew how to pray, but his emotions had been so tangled since his mother’s death that he still hadn’t ordered the words properly.
Colton turned toward him as he walked the last few steps. “Where were you?” he whispered, and Colton held up a whole sheaf of papers, his eyes wild.
Ames put his hand on Colton’s and looked him in the eye. “Deep breath,” he murmured. They breathed in together, and Colton started to calm. Ames had never thought of his older brother as one who’d panic. Everything Colton did seemed flawless, and he, as the middle brother, was the glue that kept the family together.
Ames suddenly knew what to say. He nudged Colton a foot or two to the side and looked at the crowd. “Mom taught Colton that he was the glue for the family. See, he’s the middle brother, sandwiched right between two perfect older brothers and then two rebellious twins. She used to tell him that the Good Lord sent him straight to her, to help her keep the family united.” He looked at Colton and smiled. “He’s always done it too, and I think he’s struggling a bit to figure out how to keep doing it without Mom in his corner. He used to use her as a reason why we all needed to get along. He’d say, ‘Come on, you guys. Mom just wants us all to get along for one afternoon. It’s Mother’s Day.’”
His own throat closed, but panic wasn’t anywhere nearby. He faced the crowd again, his love for Colton as bright as it ever had been. “Now he’ll have to figure out how to unite us without Mom, and I suppose y’all better start praying he can find a way to do it.”
Several people laughed quietly, and Ames smiled too. “We love our mother with our whole hearts, all of us boys. She loved and accepted us for who we were, and she did the same for our wives and children. She was an exceptional woman.” He reached up and pressed one hand to his heart, glad each of his brothers automatically did the same, even Colton.
With that, Ames nodded and gestured for Colton to go in front of him. He did, and the two of them left the dais so Cy’s twins could perform their musical number.
“Thank you,” Colton said when they reached their bench. “I just froze up there.”
Ames could only nod as he retook his spot on the end of the bench. His one-year-old, Jilly, climbed into his lap, her thumb in her mouth. He cuddled her, needing the love of a precious child to calm him. His pulse continued to sprint through a beautiful musical number about springtime and the Savior, and Ames pressed his eyes closed and prayed he could stuff this sadness and nervousness behind the wall of anger.
Anger he knew how to manage. Anger he could control. Anger he understood.
If he could just stay angry enough until the funeral, burial, and family luncheon ended, then he could cry behind closed doors. His