never get to see the pictures of the moss they’d put in her special tree. Her heart squeezed. She’d like to believe she already knew, though.
“I’m so sorry you called before I had a chance to let you know.” Judy sighed.
“No, that’s fine. I understand.” She would miss Maeve, but believing that at long last she’d be reunited with Jarvis, it was hard to feel sad for her. “Judy, your sister was special. Thank you again for allowing me to have that sweet time with her. Please let me know what I can do to help.”
“Well, thank you too. I’m not sure why she finally gave in and came, but we treasured our time together. It was too short, but she wasn’t in any pain.”
“I’d love to go to the service if you’ll send me the details.”
“I surely will.”
Amanda hung up the phone and walked over to the overstuffed chair in Maeve’s sunroom, or secret shell room, as Hailey called it. She sank into the chair, praying for Maeve. She must have passed as they lit up the moss in her tree. She hoped somehow their thoughts of her last night had comforted her all the way to heaven and that Jarvis greeted her as though they hadn’t missed a single day together.
A tiny bit of her wished she could see Jack, to tell him they were okay. To tell him herself that although her life was changing and growing, her love for him would always be there.
Amanda took a photo album from the bottom shelf and carried it back over to the chair. It was Maeve and Jarvis’s wedding pictures. Maeve had been stunning—a model-like beauty. Her gown had been simple, but that’s all she needed. Jarvis’s love for her was undeniable in the way he looked at her.
“You’re with Jarvis now. I can picture you two holding hands.” She let out a small cry, tears dripping from her chin. “Please tell Jack I love him and that he will always own a corner of my heart.”
31
At the end of the week, Judy called to inform Amanda she was following Maeve’s wishes to be cremated and have a funeral on Whelk’s Island at the church Maeve had gone to as a child, where their parents were buried. The same one that Amanda, Paul, and the kids attended now.
Thank you. It was as if Maeve had reached out and hugged her.
Amanda couldn’t wait to tell Tug. He’d been so quiet. He was hurting, and this would most definitely help him feel like he could say goodbye, with the service being right here.
She invited Judy to stay at the house, offering to let the family have it and she’d use her cottage during the funeral, but Judy refused. She’d already booked a condo on the marina, and she was coming by herself.
“May I take care of the obituary here locally, or have you handled that?” Amanda asked.
“Already done,” Judy said. “Don’t be impressed. Maeve had all this outlined and finalized. All I have to do is show up.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Me neither,” Judy said with a laugh.
Maeve’s obituary ran in the paper the following morning.
On the day of the funeral, cars were parked down the main beach road for as far as Amanda could see. Throngs of people came to say goodbye to Maeve.
The service was beautifully done. On a large easel at the front of the church was a large portrait of Maeve on the beach, facing the water, her skirt flowing in the breeze and her arms open wide. A gorgeous carved wooden box with a golden seashell on top contained her ashes.
The pastor did a lovely job outlining Maeve’s life, then opened the microphone for anyone who cared to share their memories.
Amanda, Paul, Hailey, Jesse, and Tug sat in the front row with Judy. Becky, Kimmy, and Nate sat behind them. The rest of the pews were filled with people from town.
A few folks got up and shared stories about their relationship with Maeve, and then Tug rose to his feet and walked to the front. He seemed shaken, but his voice was loud and strong. He looked across the room, then closed his eyes. “Maeve, my girl, I’ll never stop loving you. You’ve been the light in my heart for as long as I’ve known you. You’ve been the life of this town. If you can see all of us here today, then you can see that you’re already missed.”