She sniffled. “Sorry, Mama. He’d tease me if he saw.”
Across the aisle, my grandson Toby stood stiff in his polished shoes, trying hard to look older than he was.
“You okay, Grandma?” he asked, his voice low. “Do you need anything?”
I squeezed his hand. “Been through worse,” I said, trying to smile for his sake. “Your grandfather hated all this stuff.”
He grinned a little, glancing down at his shoes. “He’d tell me they’re too shiny.”
“Mm, he would,” I said, my voice warming. I looked toward the altar. “Two cups of coffee every morning, even if I was still in bed. He never learned to make just one.”
“He’d tease me if he saw.”
I thought of the creak of his chair and the way he’d pat my hand when the news got too grim. I almost reached for his fingers now, just out of habit.
**
As people began to leave, Ruth touched my arm. “Mama, do you want to go outside for air?”
“Not yet.”
That’s when I noticed a stranger lingering near Walter’s photo. He stood still, hands knotted around something I could not see.
Ruth frowned. “Who’s that?”
“I don’t know,” I said. But the man’s old army jacket caught my eye. “But I think he’s here for your father.”
That’s when I noticed a stranger lingering.
He started walking toward us, and the room suddenly felt smaller.
“Edith?” he asked quietly.
