There were few mourners at the funeral and Kaitlin was glad. Never in her life had she wanted privacy more. Not from the family, she was desperate to be near them. But the hardest thing she’d ever lived through was dealing with the undertaker—a stranger coming and taking her mother’s frail body away to prepare for the burial. Every time she thought of it she felt ill.
Without warning, all the duties her mother had performed—the washing and cooking, the teaching and loving—rushed into her heart like a tidal wave. And just as suddenly, the weight of being the eldest daughter crowded in upon her.
I’m not ready to be a mother figure to Sean or Marcail, God. Her heart cried out to her heavenly Father and, even though she was looking into the grave, she was very conscious of Marcail’s little hand seeking comfort within her own. Sean stood to the other side of her, so close that his shoulder brushed her own. Father had knelt down on the far side of Sean as though lessening the distance to his wife’s body might comfort him in some small measure.
Kaitlin watched him rise a few moments later and, out of the corner of her eye, caught the movement of a man approaching.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Donovan,” Dr. Weston spoke quietly as he stepped inside the small family circle.
“Thank you for coming.” Father shook the doctor’s hand and did nothing to hide his tears. Dr. Weston turned and spoke to Sean before moving on to Kate. Kaitlin was thankful for his kindness even as she became aware that Marcail was trying to hide behind her. Kaitlin held tightly to her hand and gave a little warning squeeze. Marcail did remember her manners and thanked the doctor politely when he expressed his sympathy to her but her eyes clearly spoke her distrust. Father had taken time for a long talk with Marcail, as he had planned, but Kate wondered when the nine-year-old would understand that Dr. Weston had nothing to do with their mother’s death.
Dr. Weston spoke at length with Maureen, bringing her tears on afresh. The family watched him move toward his small carriage. It seemed the best time to follow suit. Within minutes the family was aboard their own transportation and headed back to the Kent home.
It was with great pain that the children bade good-bye to their father two weeks later. Kaitlin, already feeling as if something vital had been severed from her with her mother’s death, was so overcome by Father’s leaving that she could not stop crying.
Sean said little, wanting very much to be the man. But his eyes were almost angry, and Father held him tightly in his arms for a long time.
Marcail, having just a week before found out about her father’s departure, was so upset she’d vomited twice. Father held her close and mopped her small face.
His heart toyed with the idea of gathering his children and returning to Hawaii for good, but even as the thought came he pushed it away. He didn’t think he was in any shape to return and minister to the people there. They had only been in California a week before they’d been made aware of the seriousness of Theresa’s illness, so this had not been a restful time as planned.
Father planned to leave very early in the morning so good-byes to his family were conducted at bedtime the night before. No one was asleep the next morning when he left, but everyone stayed in their rooms even as his steps were heard in the hall.
Maureen did her level best to occupy the children for two days before deciding that maybe they didn’t need distraction so much as they needed to let themselves grieve. She planned to allow them a few days to themselves and was feeling very good about her decision when she heard heavy footsteps in the entry way. She was walking the length of the library when a tall figure appeared in the doorway. Maureen rushed forward with a joyous cry and threw her arms around her loved one. Percy was home.