Page 76 of Just Like This
Chapter Thirty-One
Cami
The remains of my fatherwere now divided between three gold urns. It was an unorthodox request, but my mother, Valerie, and I all wanted to keep him with us. I started to argue with my mother that she didn’t deserve any piece of him, but Valerie stopped me with a look that said, “This is not the battle you want to have.” Deep down, my mother still loved him, and her grief was more pronounced than ours. We had two years to prepare for this; she only had a few months.
The day of the memorial service was cold but sunny. People gathered in our house to pay their respects and offer their condolences. The crowd that assembled to honor my father was small, but I could name each person in attendance and knew that not only did they love him but he loved them. It was sad that my dad was an only child, but that just made his small circle of friends feel closer. He trusted them and loved them the most.
“Thank you for coming,” Valerie and I said to each guest who arrived. Some of them hugged us tightly while others just gave us sympathetic glances.
My dad’s favorite music was playing the background, and I put Palmer in charge of switching out the records when one ended. I didn’t want those sounds to end because they reminded me of him. When his memorial service became too overwhelming for me, I sat close to one of the speakers, closed my eyes, and tried to remember the first time I heard a particular song.
When “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” started to play, I easily pictured my dad’s old boat that he would take out onto the bay. He worked on that thing every summer, trying to get it seaworthy. While he was tinkering, the radio would play, and he’d hum along to the songs. When “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” came on, I was sitting on a picnic table watching him.
“Cami!” he’d cried out, jumping up and rushing over to me. He’d picked me up in his arms and swung me in a circle. He had a lovely voice, and while we danced joyously in the backyard, he serenaded me.
“The music makes it so easy to remember him, doesn’t it?” Tim Grayson sat down next to me and placed a comforting arm around my shoulder. “He was my best friend, and I miss him so damn much.”
“Me too.”
“But he’s still here, you know?” Tim leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. “He was always putzing around the shop, talking to the crew, and there was always music playing. That shop was his entire world, and he owned it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to step foot in it again without picturing his big goofy grin and hearing his music.”
“Don’t ever turn off that radio,” I told him.
“No, never,” he said with a wink. “How are you holding up?”
“It’ll take some time for me to really get used to the idea that he’s not here anymore.” I looked down at my hand and twisted the ring Garrett gave me. On the tough days—days like today—I couldn’t bring myself to think of us as engaged. Not until he was home and not until the ache in my chest lessened. “But I know he’s not in pain anymore.”
Tim took my hand gently in his and held it. “Your dad told me about Garrett before he passed.”
Surprised, I looked up at Tim whose expression was filled with affection. “He did?”
“Yes. He was relieved that you found someone like Garrett.” Tim glanced over at Palmer, who was talking to one of my dad’s friends, before turning his attention back to me. “I thought it might be Palmer one day, but if you’re happy with Garrett, then I’m happy for you, and I’ll do everything I can to support you.”
“Thank you, Tim,” I said. “That means a lot to me.”
Dad had requested that no one make any speeches at his memorial service. It would have embarrassed him to have so many people talking about him like that, so I excused myself and made it a point to talk with as many people as I could. I wanted them to tell me what they remembered most about my dad or what they loved so that I could keep those memories in my heart. The room was filled with so much love and laughter and very few tears, which was exactly what my dad would have wanted.
As the sun started to set, Palmer built a bonfire on the beach, one of my dad’s favorite things. Valerie joined me next to the fire and slipped her arms around my waist. There were times over the past few days when I forgot that she was the oldest. Growing up, she was the closest to our dad; they had a similar temperament and were both content not to stray too far from home. She also worked with him every day, which made her grieve differently.
“Have I ever told you that I’m so happy you came back from Seattle,” Valerie murmured. “I could never have gotten through these past two years without you.”
“Staying in Seattle was never an option for me. I’d never leave you alone like that.” As I said it, my eyes seemed to drift up to my mother who was standing on the opposite side of the fire talking to the Graysons. “How long do you think she’s going to stay now that he’s gone?”
Part of me wanted her to leave Orcas Island and come back to Gig Harbor permanently, but the cynical side of me knew that she’d stay long enough for his will to be read before leaving.
“I don’t know, Cami, but I’m glad she came back.” Forgiveness was still a long way off, but I agreed with Valerie; I was happy my mother came back too. My father had been able to find some kind of closure with her before he passed, and we were given the same opportunity.
As the night started to wind down, I wandered inside to clean up. It was the easiest, most mundane task for me to complete. Friends of my father slowly left, offering their condolences for the last time.
“You don’t have to do this,” Palmer said quietly, placing his hand gently over mine and taking the black garbage bag that I held from my hand. “I can find someone to come over and clean tomorrow.”
“I’ll help her.” We both looked up to see my mother standing in the living room holding an armful of paper plates.
Palmer shot me a concerned look, but I nodded, and he left to take care of the fire outside.
“Thank you,” I said to my mom.
“I actually wanted to talk to you.” This was not going to be good. I set the trash bag aside and sat down in a chair, waiting for her to deal whatever blow was coming. “I have to go back to Orcas Island.”
