a while.
Life.
Things.
I currently live over an hour away.
I notice our grandma standing at the side of the casket, looking down at Grandpa. It’s an awful tradition if you ask me. I’ve never been a fan of funerals. Nevertheless, I make myself walk forward and take a moment since she’s alone.
“Grandma,” I say as I lay my hand on her lower back.
“Oh, Marshal,” she says with a smile. “Do you think he did this?”
“He?”
“Your grandpa?”
Did what...died?
I’m not sure what she means.
“This weather,” she says as she takes in my puzzled expression. “It would be just like Lloyd, you know.” She lowers her voice. “He never liked funerals or weddings, or well, any gathering. Unless it was a pitch-in. He loved pitch-ins.” A smile breaks across her face as she turns to the windows and back. “I can just hear him up in heaven talking to the good Lord and telling him to dump a snowstorm on us. For heaven’s sake, it’s April.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It was Lloyd. I just know it. He’s telling me that I should have bypassed all the pomp and circumstance.”
“Marcus and I were saying something similar.”
She turns and reaches up to my cheek with her cool hand. “You’re a good boy, Marshal.”
There it is again.
Boy.
Apparently, to family members kids don’t grow up.
“When are you going to settle down?”
“You know me, Grandma.”
“I do. You’re a lot like him” —she peers over at Grandpa— “you know?”
I turn and stare at my grandfather’s body.
While it’s not really there, I see the smirk on his lips, the way his eyes would sparkle when he’d play a joke or tease. He was always quick with a laugh and even quicker at giving his opinion. I don’t mind the comparison.
The door from the vestibule opens, bringing a gust of cool air.
Grandma turns and grins. “Well, lookie there.”
I turn and gaze in shock and awe as Sami shakes the snow from her hair and her mom whispers in her ear. Her dad, Paul, is a few steps behind. When Sami looks up, her green eyes meet mine. But instead of talking to me first, she and her parents go straight to my grandma. I watch as first Jean and then Sami reach for my grandma’s hand and offer their condolences. With each passing minute, I feel a sense of relief that my grandma has visitors, and at the same time, looking out the window, I want to scold Sami for traveling all the way from Ann Arbor in this weather.
Finally, she comes to me and lifts her arms around my neck. “I’m sorry, Marsh.”
“I should kick your ass,” I whisper as we hug, “for driving in this weather.”
When she steps back, her pretty face has a grin from ear to ear. “You tried that when we were five. I believe I bloodied your nose.”
Looking down at all five feet five of her petite frame compared to my six feet three and knowing I outweigh her by at least one hundred and twenty pounds, I shake my head. “You always have been violent.”
“Me? You just threatened me.”
I reach for her hand. “Seriously, you shouldn’t have.”
“No, Marsh, I should. When have you ever let me down?”
“Well, there was that one time when I took all your M&M’s from your Halloween candy.”
Her green eyes open wide. “It was you. I blamed Millie.” She soft-punches my arm. “And you let me. You said you’d always tell me the truth.”
I nod. “If I remember correctly, you jumped to the Millie conclusion without asking me.” I shrug. “I simply didn’t correct you. That isn’t lying.”
She takes a step back and scans me from head to toe. “Just like that dance. You look good in a suit, Marsh.”
I do the same, taking in her pretty smile, soft sweater, black slacks, and boots. I shake my head. “I’m glad you didn’t wear that red dress. You would have given Grandpa a heart attack, if he hadn’t already had one.”
“Marsh.” She elongates my name. “Are you all right?”
“If I tell you that I’m better with you here, does it make me sound like a pussy?”
“No. It makes you sound like a man who could use his best friend.” Her gaze goes to the window and back. “Besides, it’s a bit cold for that dress.”
Taking her hand, I lead her out of the big room, down a hallway.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“Trust me?”
Her smile grows. “Always and forever, but...”
I stop. “But?”
“You have a history of getting me in