always be linked with killing Kyle. She couldn’t disentangle the two because she couldn’t tell her therapist about David without also telling him about Kyle. She hadn’t even told her husband about Kyle, or David. Their therapist said Allie had intimacy issues, and they were why her marriage was in trouble. No shit, Sherlock.
A tall man shifted in front of her, giving Allie a view of David’s wife and family. She recognized them from photos on his Facebook page, since his settings were public. He’d married a painter named Martine Jocose, an artsy redhead whose delicate features were today masked by oversized designer sunglasses. She’d had gallery showings in New York, and they’d lived in Williamsburg. Suddenly Martine moved the handbag she was clutching in front of her, and Allie caught a glimpse of her pregnant belly. It took Allie by surprise, since David hadn’t mentioned it on his Facebook page. She felt sympathy for Martine, raising their baby on her own, and for David, who would miss out on becoming a father.
The rest of David’s family stood next to Martine, and Allie recognized them from Facebook, too. His father, a stocky, spectacled man with wisps of salt-and-pepper hair, stood stoic with his arm around David’s mother. She held a Kleenex to her nose, her eyes spilling over with tears, her eyebrows sloping down, and her expression etched with deep grief. David’s brother, Jason, was next to her, somber in a dark three-piece suit, and looked like an older, corporate version of David. His pretty twin sisters stood on Jason’s other side, distraught as the priest finished his prayer.
Everyone said a final amen, then it was time for the goodbyes, and everyone placed a rose on the casket, ending with David’s parents. They stepped up together, and his mother set a rose down, murmuring through her tears, “David, I don’t understand, I don’t understand.”
The mourners reacted with sniffles, and Allie felt her heart wrench, the pressure building inside her. She couldn’t stand to see David’s mother suffer, wracking her brain about why David had done it, when Allie knew at least one reason. She couldn’t be sure that it was the only reason, and she wondered if anyone committed suicide for only one reason.
Suddenly David’s father looked away, and he scowled deeply. He pointed to the right, his arm a straight line of accusation and his anger so sudden, swift, and undisguised that the mourners turned to see what was the matter. Even the priest turned around, and a tall, thin man in a black suit was walking toward them. He had dark, good-looking features, but he was grief-stricken, his head down, eyes puffy, and his expression drawn. He was obviously a mourner who’d come late, and Allie didn’t understand why David’s father was getting so angry.
“Get out of here!” David’s father shouted at the mourner. “You’re not welcome here! You have no business here! No business!”
The mourner stopped in his tracks. His eyes flared in defiance. “I have every right to be here! David would’ve wanted me here!”
“I don’t want you here! No, no, no!” David’s father erupted, letting go of his wife and storming off toward the mourner, wagging his finger. “Get out or I’ll throw you out! I’ll throw you out!”
Allie’s mouth dropped open, aghast. The mourner started walking toward the casket again. David’s father charged toward him, shouting. Jason ran after his father. The funeral director and his assistants raced to intervene. It looked as if a fight was about to break out. The funeral erupted in chaos. The priest and mourners surged forward to see what was going on. Allie moved to the front of the crowd.
“Dad, no!” His father ignored him, continuing to advance on the mourner.
“You have no business here! Get out! Right now!”
“I have every right! He was my boyfriend, whether you like it or not! We loved each other!” The mourner kept advancing, on a collision course with David’s father.
“Get out! Get out right now!”
“This is a public place!” the mourner yelled, and as soon as the two men got close enough, David’s father lunged at the mourner, clamping down on his shoulders and tackling him. Jason leapt into the fray, yanking his father backward. Funeral assistants rushed to restrain the mourner, then pushed him back toward the street.
Allie felt dumbfounded, trying to process what was happening. The mourner was David’s boyfriend. She’d had no idea from his Facebook page that David was gay. She’d had no idea from his kiss,