A Walk Along the Beach by Debbie Macomber Page 0,92

when she looked back at me. “I don’t know why you would think that, Sean. It’s all very sweet of you, but unnecessary.”

“Why?” I said, much too loud for being in a church. My voice echoed in the empty space like a bell toll. “You’re my girl. Don’t you realize how important you are to me? I love you.”

It seemed as if my declaration of love went directly over her head. For a long time, all she did was stare at me. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” I insisted.

She shrugged, as if my declaration was nothing more than empty words. From all the calls, texts, and voicemails I’d left, she had to know she was constantly in my thoughts. I wanted to remind her that the last time I was home, not all that long ago, she’d slept in my bed. I spent the night with her in my arms. She’d needed me. Sought out my comfort.

This had to be her grief talking. I consoled myself with the hope that within a short amount of time, and with patience, we’d be back on an even keel. As hard as it was to leave matters as they were, it would be best to leave this discussion for another day.

The doors at the back of the church opened and the man I recognized as Harper’s friend and physician walked down the center aisle toward us.

Immediately, Willa came to her feet, edged past me, and raced toward him. As I watched, she flew into John’s arms, hugging him and weeping on his shoulder. With her face buried against his front, I couldn’t make out what she said.

Watching another man hold Willa caused my stomach to tighten. I should be the one comforting her, but Willa didn’t want me. It hurt in a physical way I hadn’t expected.

CHAPTER 29

Willa

The morning of Harper’s funeral, I rose early and headed for the beach, needing to clear my head. I hoped to find strength and some badly needed peace in the one place I knew I’d find solace.

Sleep had evaded me since my sister’s death. I tossed, twisting the sheets about me until exhaustion would finally lay claim to me. Then within an hour, possibly two if I was lucky, I’d wake sobbing, finding it hard to accept the truth that Harper was truly gone.

Everything in our apartment reminded me of my sister. Each item that was hers brought up memories. Her mountain-climbing equipment. The little stuffed mouse she’d purchased for Snowball. Her shampoo tucked in the corner of the shower. She was everywhere I looked.

Eventually I’d need to clear out her bedroom—a task I dreaded. If possible, I’d need to find another roommate, but that was a problem for another day. My rent was paid until the end of the month for both the apartment and Bean There. This month and this month only. My bank account was empty, and I had no way of making the payment for either come December. Today, the one in which we would bury my sister, held enough grief without my dragging my problems of the future into it.

The briny scent coming off the ocean filled the air, and the wind buffeted against me, colder now that it was November. I wrapped my coat more securely around me, hoping to find warmth when everything around me was cold and gray. Gloomy and dark. Miserable.

The overcast sky held the promise of rain later in the day. The burial was scheduled for that morning. The final goodbye. Yet how could I ever really let go of Harper? It would be impossible to release my beautiful sister, even in death.

One of the last things I’d said to her was that she would always be a part of me, and it was true. I would carry her love with me into the future, no matter what it held or where it would take me.

At the appropriate time, Dad, Lucas, Chantelle, John, and I met at the funeral home. The casket was open, and we were given time privately to say our final goodbye before it was closed.

I stood before my sister and looked upon her one last time. Harper’s head was covered with her lilac-colored wig. Leukemia had ravaged her body, but it hadn’t been able to steal her beauty. She looked nothing like she once had, but it didn’t distract from who she was. I touched her face one last time, swallowed my tears, and turned away, bracing myself for whatever this desperately sad

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