Page 86 of Until the Storm Breaks
“That’s exciting,” Maren says. “Susan mentioned you were doing well.”
“Yeah, she kept track,” Jack says quietly. “Even when I didn’t call enough.”
Dominic’s voice carries over the crowd, calling out that it’s time to begin, and we all move toward the bluff where the rental chairs wait in neat rows. The crowd arranges itself with the rustle of programs and quiet murmurs. My brothers and I stand at the front, the urn heavy and final in Dominic’s hands.
Theo speaks first, because he’s always been better at this than the rest of us. He talks about Mom’s strength, her laughter that could fill a room, how she made everyone feel like family even if they’d just met. Alex follows, shorter but genuine, abouther teaching him to cook, to find beauty in feeding people, how she believed food was love made visible.
Then it’s my turn.
“Susan Midnight was a force,” I begin, my voice rougher than I want it to be. “She raised five boys with equal parts love and boxing gloves. She ran a bar, ran a household, ran our lives even when we thought we were grown. She made a life here, on this bluff, in this house that’s seen our highest and lowest moments.”
I pause, looking out at the faces watching me. At my brothers, each carrying their own grief. At Maren, steady and sure.
“She made us into men who could try to do the same. To build something. To stay when it gets hard. To love even when it hurts.” My voice cracks. “To forgive, especially ourselves.”
Dominic steps forward with the urn. We move to the edge of the bluff, all five of us, brothers despite everything. The Sound stretches endlessly before us, gray-blue and eternal, waiting.
“To Susan Midnight,” Jack says simply. “Who loved us all better than we deserved.”
Together, we tip the urn, watching the wind catch her ashes and carry them out over the water she loved. Chloe steps forward, throws her daisy as hard as her little arm can manage. It flutters down, a spot of yellow against the blue.
“Bye, Grandma,” she whispers.
We stand there for a long moment, nobody ready to move, to admit it’s over. The crowd behind us is silent except for quiet crying, the rustle of tissues. The wind picks up again, carrying the last visible traces of ash out to sea.
Slowly, people begin to approach us. Dolores Henderson touches my arm, murmuring something about Susan’s kindness. Eddie grips my shoulder briefly, no words needed. Laila weaves through the crowd, accepting gentle pats from familiar hands. The brothers and I separate naturally, each pulled into different conversations, different memories being shared.
Through the small crowd, I spot Maren and make my way over to her, needing the anchor of her presence.
“Hey,” she says softly when I reach her, immediately taking my hand. “That was beautiful. Your speech.”
“I forgot half of what I wanted to say,” I admit.
“You said what mattered.” She squeezes my hand.
We stand together as people start drifting toward their cars, talking about heading to the bar. Maren’s thumb traces circles on my palm, keeping me grounded.
That’s when I notice someone walking up from the parking area. A man in an expensive suit, completely out of place here, walking with the kind of confidence that says he’s used to getting what he wants.
“Mr. Midnight,” he calls out, approaching with his hand extended like this is a business meeting. “Cole Landry, Verdant State Wellness Group. I know this isn’t ideal timing, but I wanted to pay my respects. Your mother’s property is legendary in development circles.”
The name clicks. This is the buyer. The wellness retreat developer Dominic is trying to sell to. Here. Now. At Mom’s memorial.
“You need to leave,” I say, not taking his hand. Maren’s grip on mine tightens.
Dominic appears, moving quickly through the remaining guests who are starting to drift toward their cars. “Cole, what are you doing here? The site visit is tomorrow.”
“I wanted to pay my respects,” Cole says smoothly. “I was in the area.”
The casual way he links Mom’s death to his business opportunity makes me want to hit him. Just clock him right here in front of everyone. But I know Mom would hate that.
“The Midnight Wellness Retreat will be special,” he continues, gesturing at the bluff like he already owns it. “This view, the history, it’s perfect for our vision.”
I can feel my brothers moving closer even before I see them. Jack and Alex walking over from where they’d been saying goodbye to guests. Theo following with Chloe still in his arms.
“Get out.” Jack’s voice is sharp. “Now.”
“Gentlemen, we’re very close to finalizing?—”
