3

Emily and Nick arrived at Bishop and Schulz Funeral Home and, ironically, couldn’t find a place to park in the overfull lot, so Nick pulled the car under the large overhang at the front entrance. Emily could only imagine how many people were packed inside. Cathy was probably in there frantically setting up more chairs in the back instead of allowing herself to play the part of grieving widow.

Emily realized just at that moment she hadn’t prepared anything to say. The last few weeks had been a blur, and cobbling together any string of thoughts or decisions had been almost beyond her abilities. She would have to wing it and just speak from her heart. It wouldn’t be too hard to praise the younger version of this man who had lovingly raised her and formed her into the surgeon she was today. It was the older version of Dr. Robert Hartford who was the enigma. Especially in light of his last words to her. She would play it safe and focus on the father of her youth.

“I’m just gonna park it here. What are they gonna do? Arrest me?” said Nick.

Emily grinned at his joke.

“Don’t move,” he said, getting out of the car. Nick went around to her door, opened it for her, and helped her out. He took her arm and opened the right door of the double doors.

“It’s going to be okay. Freeport loved your dad.”

Did they? She wished she could know that part of him now.

“You’ll probably get to hear lots of stories today that will fill in some details that you’ve missed.” Nick had read her mind.

“Yeah.” She would get to know better the father she had abandoned … and who had emotionally abandoned her after her mom’s death.

“Emily?” said a voice behind her. She turned to see Brandon rising from a high-backed chair in the corner.

“Oh my goodness. Brandon. You’re here.” Her hands dropped limply to her sides, and she could feel the corners of her mouth turning down into a frown. This was a surprise, especially since their last words to each other had indicated they were over.

Cathy shuffled in from a side room and grabbed Nick by the arm. “Nick, I could use your help with something for a second.” The two of them disappeared into the side room.

Emily turned to Brandon, who embraced her. He smelled amazing, and she melted comfortably into his arms like she had a thousand times throughout their relationship. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know about Dad.”

“Don’t worry. The way we left things … you had a lot on your plate.”

“Nice of you to come up.” She forced a small smile.

“Are you okay? Of course you’re not. Stupid question.” He was nervous—a trait she had never seen in him before. “I’m so sorry about your father.”

“Thank you.” Emily nodded and swallowed the lump growing in her throat.

“I know this is really weird timing, but as soon as I heard about your father’s passing, it got me thinking about how little time we have on this earth, and that … that I’m sure, one hundred percent, that I want to spend the rest of it with you.”

Emily pulled away and looked into his eyes. Was he serious? Now? Of all times and places?

“I’m about to bury my father,” she whispered.

“I know. And that’s why I feel so urgently about this. I love you, Em. I don’t want to wait another minute. I had to be here for you. To tell you that I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

“This is not the right time, Brandon.” Her unease shriveled up, replaced by a warming sensation of disgust squeezing her rib cage. Is this what a panic attack feels like? She had heard them described this way by her patients.

“I’ve got a year left on my contract with Northwestern. After that, the sky’s the limit. We can go wherever you want.”

“Anywhere but Freeport. Isn’t that what you mean?” she pressed. She had introduced the possibility of settling in Freeport when he’d come to visit during her father’s recovery, but he had shut it down. Brandon was a city boy, through and through. Freeport’s small-town way of life was a joke to him.

“Why limit ourselves? Why not try a place that’s new to both of us?”

This was a new twist.

“What about the brownstone? Your parents? The city?” Emily had learned that Brandon’s loyalties lay with his beloved life in Chicago. She was just the pretty add-on.

“Just come back to Chicago and we’ll figure it all out together.”

“Clearly I’m not in the right state of mind to make that decision. You understand that, right?” This babbling, begging version of her former fiancé added to the surrealness of the day. Her thoughts began to swirl again, impervious to capture. Is this really happening right now? Where are Nick and Cathy to save me from this conversation!

The piped-in organ music further contributed to the silent-movie melodrama of the moment.

“Okay. Okay. We can move to Freeport,” he blurted out. “I’ll see if I can get out of my contract early. I’ll start a practice here. I can make this work.” He grabbed her hands and held them to his chest. “Please, Em. I miss you.”

Emily’s eyes blinked wide with overwhelm. “I don’t know what to say.” She exhaled and felt her rib cage release a little pressure. “I have no idea what the future holds. I have no idea how long I’ll be here. If I even want to stay.”

“You have to return to Chicago. To finish your residency.”

“I guess. Maybe.” She should. Right? She had worked so hard for it. Only two more years to go.

The side door swooshed opened and Nick stepped into the lobby. “We had to get some more chairs from the cellar,” he said, his eyes landing on Emily’s hands as they slipped from Brandon’s. She detected Nick’s perturbed look as he lasered his focus on Brandon. They faced each other, caught in the awkwardness of the moment.

“We should get Emily seated,” said Nick.

Brandon’s nervousness was replaced by an annoyed expression, but before he had a chance to take the conversation further, Cathy whisked in with a professional stride from a side door in the lobby that connected to the main viewing area where her father’s casket lay.

“Okay. We’re ready. You?” Cathy took Emily gently by the shoulders.

“No one’s ever ready for a day like this.”

Emily knew from the dampness around her hairline that Cathy had been working overtime on Dad’s funeral. That’s what you did in small towns—you pitched in because you had to. But she knew Cathy didn’t mind; she wouldn’t have been satisfied sitting around feeling gloomy and depressed while every guest around reminded her how gloomy and depressed she should feel.

“You’re amazing. Thank you for making this so special. I know you’re hurting, too.” Emily gave Cathy a little squeeze and noticed tears filling her eyes.

She quickly brushed them away with the back of her hand. “You should see all the arrangements inside. Like a botanical garden in there. Your dad would’ve loved it.”

“It’s too many for us to take home. Can you bring some to the nursing home and hospital? They love the fresh flowers,” said Emily, the lump returning.

“Absolutely. Come on. I have a seat for us and Nick in the front,” said Cathy in a quiet tone.

“Ms. Bishop. My condolences.”

Emily noticed Cathy glance over her shoulder as Brandon came between them and gave Cathy a firm handshake.

“Brandon, if I would have known you were coming, I could have set an extra chair for you in front. But I’m afraid it’s full down in front. You can slide in in the back.”

Emily could read Brandon’s disappointment, but she knew Cathy was protecting her. She felt Cathy’s gentle tug as she pulled her away from Brandon and Nick. Emily didn’t care in the moment what they said to each other, to her, or where they sat. She grabbed tightly onto Cathy’s warm, strong arm, a safe and sturdy haven. That’s all she needed right now to get through the next few hours.