sons started to whisper on the bench next to him as the pastor got up and said Wes would be the final speaker, and Ames turned his attention to them as they continued to argue.
“Knock it off,” he growled. Sophia reached over and took the coloring book from Lars. She indicated he should go sit on her other side, and she scooted over to separate the twins. She met Ames’s eyes, and his gratitude for her doubled.
She lifted her arm around Chris and patted Ames’s shoulder, a gorgeous smile on her face. It wobbled, and Ames knew she’d miss his mother as much as he would. His eyes burned, and he seized onto the warmth and used it to strengthen his anger.
As he turned back toward the front, everything got cemented back into its rightful place, where he could deal with it later.
Cy Hammond watched his girls sing for their grandmother, and it made his heart fill with love. Over and over and over. When they returned to the bench, he took them both into his arms and whispered how amazing they were.
The Lord had given him and Ames a set of twins each. Ames had boys; Cy girls. Ava sat on his lap while Ella took the spot on the bench next to him.
Cy was in a bad way, but his heart had been lifted by the spirit of song, and he glanced over at Patsy. She met his eye, worry in hers, and he gave her a fast smile. She bent to pick up something Wade had just thrown on the floor, and Cy reached for the two-year-old too. He pulled the boy on his lap and pointed up to the front. “See Uncle Wes? We have to be quiet so we can hear him.”
Wes read a poem that was their mother’s favorite, and he talked about everyday life with her. “She asked me no less than fifty times if I was seeing anyone,” he said, a big smile on his face. “I think she about died when I finally told her I was dating Bree. In fact, she was rendered speechless, and anyone who knows Mom knows how hard that is to do.”
Cy smiled, and the rest of the funeral felt more like a celebration instead of a tragedy. When Gray had called and said Mom had died, Cy hadn’t been able to move. He’d stood in his office in the motorcycle shop, numb from head to toe. His secretary had found him there, and her voice had unfrozen him.
Since then, it felt like every cell in his body buzzed and raced and zipped through his blood. Only now did he start to feel slightly calmer.
The service ended, and once again, the family paraded after the casket. They gathered on the sidewalk outside while the casket was loaded into the back of the hearse, and then the funeral director said, “Family should follow first, and then guests. We’ll begin the graveside service in thirty minutes.”
Thirty minutes, Cy thought. Maybe he could breathe normally for thirty minutes. His role in the funeral was to speak at the luncheon. Her letter specifically stated that it didn’t need to be long, but that Mom wanted each of her sons to contribute to the events of the day.
Cy still wasn’t sure what to say at the luncheon, but Gray had arranged for it to happen at the church, and Cy figured the Lord would be there to guide him.
Cy’s girls stayed close to him, and he led them toward their truck. “Climb in, guys.” He turned to help Patsy with Wade, and he lifted the child into the car seat strapped in the back. “Tommy, you ride up front like on the way here.” His five-year-old did as he said, and when Cy got behind the wheel, he started the truck and paused.
He met Patsy’s eyes, and then each girl’s in the rearview mirror. “I love you guys,” he said. “Each of you, so much. Your mother loves you, and we’re glad each of you are in our family.” He reached across Tommy and took Patsy’s hand in his.
“Love you, Daddy,” Ella said, and Ava echoed it.
“Love you, Dad,” Tommy said, and from right behind him, Wade said, “Wuv, da, da, da.”
Cy started to laugh, and that caused everyone else to do the same. As he turned on his lights and eased into the procession behind Colton, Cy took a moment to press his eyes closed and whisper, “Thank you, Dear