Chapter 21

The note in Gracie’s hand postmarked January 3 was the most recent, Kage’s ninth letter to her. She received this one tucked inside a package. She bought him a new pocket knife for Christmas, and he’d mailed her an Everly Brothers record with her favorite song “All I Have to Do is Dream.” She pictured Kage in her mind. At what point had the awkwardness given way to excitement, and the excitement extended to friendship, and now, had it become love? She relived the feeling of his arms—the protection, the happiness, the love. It was nice to enjoy thoughts of Kage without having to admit that the distance and passing days made it difficult.

She jumped. The crash in her grandfather’s bedroom sent her running. Along with his wedding picture, Thomas slumped against the bedroom floor.

* * *

Gracie imagined it was the fright in her voice that encouraged Dr. Laben to arrive so quickly. He and Gracie managed to get Thomas back in bed, but he wasn’t responding. Dr. Laben dropped his head, avoiding Gracie’s gaze. “I’ll call Pastor Ted.”

His words caused Gracie’s heart to nearly stop.

Gracie sank to the floor in the hallway as she pulled the ruffle around the neck of her nightgown to cover her face. The sting of the cool hardwood against her legs awakened the rest of her body which had gone numb. She wrapped her arm tightly around her knees, her body balled up. She didn’t cry, only shook. She wasn’t ready for this.

January 4, 1966

Thomas Edward Howard

joined his wife and son

in the peaceful arms of our

Savior, Jesus Christ, in Heaven.

He is survived by a sister and granddaughter.

It took everything she had to call her Aunt Elaine in Bellmont who was bedridden after complications with her hip surgery. The conversation altered between tears, comforting words and more tears. People drifted in and out of Gracie’s house bringing food, envelopes of money, and more flowers than she knew how to care for. The evening passed in a daze, each hour colliding with the one before. Erma declared she would stay with Gracie for the night, while Aaron’s mother, Roberta, insisted on taking Gracie home with her. In the end, with lots of assurance from Gracie that she’d be fine, they went home. She waved goodbye and closed the front door. Though Gracie hadn’t wanted anyone to stay with her, she was aware of one thing that chilled her all over—she was truly by herself, alone, for the first time in her life.

* * *

Pastor Ted stepped toward the front of the church. Unlike at other funerals he had presided over, he had no notes in his hands. He just stood looking from where Thomas peacefully rested to where Gracie sat. He looked down, not yet speaking.

Every pew was filled, parents held young children on their laps. The church was a sea of black, the only color coming from potted plants surrounding the sanctuary and Erma Franklin’s shawl. She wore the traditional black and topped the outfit off with a large black hat, the bow vying with the size of the ribbons hanging from the flower baskets. Her shawl, made of silk ribbons and authentic bird feathers, draped her shoulders. The bird feathers intertwined and tangled with the silk ribbons, creating a bright red, purple, and orange wrap. Her arrival had caused an outbreak of sneezing as she found a seat near the front. The shawl whipped against the kids’ noses as she passed, tickling sneezes right out of them.

Pastor Ted seemingly struggled to begin the eulogy. His eyes focused on the floor, he started, “I’ve known Thomas my entire life, and through him I’ve learned more than any sermon that has ever passed through me to you.” His voice was quiet, unlike when giving the forceful sermons that Gracie had grown accustomed to over the years. He told tales of Thomas and recounted the amazing faith Thomas had maintained throughout a life that would have shaken the devotion of many others.

In the middle of the eulogy, when Pastor Ted had praised Gracie for her love and care for her grandfather, Erma had cried out, “Oh Gracie, Gracie, my Gracie!” and buried her face in a handkerchief.

Pastor Ted paused. He wiped a tear and continued. “Gracie wanted me to read something to you today.” He reached beneath the podium and pulled out a thin book. “I’ll close today with this Bible verse that Marilee wrote in a journal to Gracie. Marilee begins, ‘On your toughest days, know these words. Psalms 34:17-18. The righteous cry out and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Pastor Ted closed the journal, held it to his chest and bowed his head. The next few seconds passed with a rhythm of sniffles. “Amen,” he concluded. Then added, “Those of you who wish to come forward for a final moment with Thomas are invited.” Pastor Ted motioned for Gracie to come forward to stand beside him near Thomas.

Erma was first to their side, bird feathers that fell from the elaborate stole mapping her trail. She dramatically leaned her head back and held tight to her hat with one hand and the front of her shawl with the other and wailed. Gracie turned her head to avoid the feathered madness as Erma reached out to hug her. Seconds later Pastor Ted was smothered as Erma collapsed against him. The line of folks waiting behind her stood patiently for a moment until a rustling of hushed whispers began and children scurried to gather freed feathers.

Though the ruckus, Willy and Gene stood somber. For the first time Gracie noticed the slight resemblance between the two brothers. Willy’s face seemed thinner without the goofy grin. He dressed in his best effort of a suit and tie, the varied shades divulging nothing had been purchased in unison. Gene kept his head down. Gracie wondered if his eyes were damp. This was the only time in Gracie’s life that she would hug Willy and Gene. As she had suspected, it was awkward, but that had fitted well into a day full of uncomfortable moments.

* * *

Kage had arrived late for his shift. His boss hadn’t spoken kind words to him all day. When the phone rang and he handed it over without reprimand, Kage knew something was wrong.

“Oh, Gracie!” Kage paced. “When’s the funeral?”

“It was today,” Gracie murmured.

“Are you going to be okay?” Though she was miles away and he could only hear her breath in the phone, he knew she was shaking her head, unable to speak.

Kage’s boss, though considerate enough to let him talk with Gracie, banged shut the cash register drawer and stomped outside to pump gas, clearly sending a message for Kage to end his conversation.