“No, we should attend.”
Claire sat straight. “No! We shouldn’t. Tony, I have not been to a funeral since my parents died. I can’t go to Simon’s.” Her eyes brimmed again with moisture.
For the second time in two days he knelt before his wife. His tone was incredibly sweet and supportive. “I have his parents’ number. I really think you should call. I am not telling you to, I am saying it would be a good idea. The service is private. If they invite you or us, we should attend.” Claire was shaking her head no. Speaking without crying wasn’t an option. He handed her the telephone number, kissed her gently, and went back to his office.
It may have been half an hour. It may have been three hours. Time had temporarily lost its meaning. Eventually Claire knocked on his office door. Together they made the call. The person that answered hesitated before putting Mrs. Johnson on the line. “This is a difficult time. May I ask who’s calling?”
“My name is Claire, Claire Rawlings.” She remembered that Simon had a younger sister and wondered if that was who was speaking. The voice asked her to hold. Soon Simon’s mother was on the line. “Mrs. Johnson, I’m not sure if you remember me.” She said she did and thanked Claire for calling. Claire offered their condolences. Mrs. Johnson invited them both to the memorial service. Claire had prayed she wouldn’t extend an invitation.
Before the conversation ended, Mrs. Johnson added, “Simon and I were very close. I know how much you meant to him. If possible, could you and Mr. Rawlings arrive early?”
Claire looked at Tony, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. “If you would like us to, we will.”
“Thank you. The service will begin at two but the family is having a private viewing at noon. I would appreciate it if you and Mr. Rawlings could arrive at one.” Claire said they would and Tony hung up.
The flight to Louisville, Kentucky was quiet. Incredibly supportive, Tony didn’t work or read his laptop or do anything that was not directed toward Claire. It added to her discomfort. A driver took them from Louisville to Madison, a small quaint town on the Ohio River. It was the first time Claire had been in Indiana in years. The funeral home resembled a colonial mansion, brick with large white pillars. They arrived early and sat in the car. The entire scenario was unnerving. Claire knew she was fidgeting. Finally, Tony grabbed her hand and squeezed. Claire exhaled and looked at her husband. Astounded by his sensitivity considering this was Simon, she vocalized her thoughts without considering the ramifications. “Why are you being so supportive?”
Perhaps doing the same, “Because I wasn’t able to support you when your parents died.”
Shaken by his quick response, “What? I don’t understand.”
He held her hands. “Claire, you had to go through your parents’ death alone. Emily had John but you didn’t have anyone. You said you haven’t been to a funeral since then. I couldn’t comfort you then, please let me do it now.” She did. Not because he wanted her to, but because she needed him to. She wanted the feeling of love and support he described. She melted into his embrace. When the time came, they walked into the funeral home hand in hand.
Claire recognized Mrs. Johnson immediately, a lovely blond-haired woman with Simon’s big blue eyes. Realistically she wasn’t much older than Tony. Claire tried to act resolved, but her emotions were too fresh, too near the surface. The two women embraced and wept. Mrs. Johnson then directed them to a private room, where they were joined by Simon’s father, sister, and another woman. Claire assumed the slender pretty brunette with brown puffy eyes was Amber.
Being incredibly resilient, Mrs. Johnson asked them to sit and spoke. “Thank you for coming today, Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings, I know Simon would be pleased.”