Page 8 of Home for Justice
Tyler felt frozen for a long moment, unsure of what to do or say. Tina quietly entered the room and placed her hand softly on his arm, warmth and compassion radiating from her gentle touch.
“It’s time, Tyler,” she whispered gently. “Go ahead and say goodbye. Dr. Evans has called the time of death, and I’ll take care of everything from here. You’ve already given Lawrence permission to contact the funeral home your grandfather chose. They’ll reach out to you soon.”
He nodded, unable to speak past the lump painfully lodged in his throat. As the medical staff turned off the monitors and quietly stepped away to give him privacy, Tyler leaned close again, gently clasping his grandfather’s now still and fragile hand. His voice broke slightly as he whispered, “I love you, Gramps. Tell Grandma, Mom, and Dad hello for me.” Leaning farther, he pressed a lingering, tender kiss against hisgrandfather’s weathered cheek, closing his eyes tightly against the sharp sting of tears.
Finally, gathering every ounce of his military discipline, Tyler stood slowly. He inhaled deeply, but as he released the breath, a violent shudder rolled through his body, emotion flooding him in overwhelming waves.
Numbly, on autopilot, he walked from the room and down the quiet hall, each step feeling strangely distant. Reaching the carpeted comfort of the family lobby of the cardiac floor, he was grateful to find it deserted. He moved to stand at the large picture window, hands settling on his hips, eyes fixed on the distant mountains his grandfather had always loved.
His head bowed as his breathing turned ragged and uneven, his chest aching sharply with every labored inhale. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as a tear slipped freely down his face. Emotion twisted and tangled, threatening to pull him under completely.
Suddenly, a gentle, tentative touch from small, delicate fingers rested softly on his shoulder before sliding downward along his arm, finally offering a comforting squeeze. No words accompanied the gesture, and Tyler assumed it was Tina, returning to offer her kindness once again.
Yet when he slowly opened his eyes, blinking away tears, he found himself looking into the sympathetic gaze of a beautiful, petite blond woman he had never met before. Her clear eyes, rimmed softly with shadows of fatigue, gazed up at him with such compassion that warmth began to spread gently through his cold, aching chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, hesitantly. “You just looked…lonely. Like maybe you needed… a hug.”
Tyler nodded slightly, unable to speak around the lump still painfully lodged in his throat. The woman hesitated briefly before stepping closer, standing directly before him. Herdelicate frame was small, yet it radiated strength and warmth. Her head tilted back slightly, her steady gaze holding his own. Slowly, she wrapped her slender arms around his waist, allowing him space to move back if he wished.
Moving away was the last thing Tyler wanted or needed at that moment. Instead, his arms instinctively enveloped her gently. She settled comfortably against him, resting her cheek softly against his chest, directly over his aching heart.
Almost immediately, the tightness eased. Warmth and a tender peace filled his chest, allowing his breathing to steady, becoming deeper, easier, as though she’d somehow absorbed some of his grief, sharing its burden without question.
They stood silently together, this stranger whose touch was inexplicably comforting, and her embrace creating a gentle connection that defied words. The grief remained, but within that quiet, shared moment, Tyler felt something profound shift inside him. Neither spoke. Hers was a stranger’s touch, yet he felt a connection between souls.
Whatever shadows clouded her delicate features, Tyler understood instinctively that her pain mirrored his own. Given that they stood in the quiet lobby of the hospital’s cardiac unit, he wondered if she’d felt the same sorrow, the same helplessness that now gripped him.
“Maybe you needed a hug, too?” he murmured softly, barely recognizing the roughness in his voice.
Slowly, she tilted her head back to look into his eyes, her expression gentle and open. A hint of sadness lingered behind the brave, fragile smile she offered him. Wordlessly, she nodded, confirming his quiet suspicion.
Their arms tightened once more, a natural, shared comfort deepening the simple embrace. Her cheek settled softly against his chest again, aligning perfectly over his heartbeat, a steadyrhythm that had grown calmer and less strained, simply from her touch.
Someone cleared their throat, and he jumped slightly, reluctantly turning his head. Tina stood at the edge of the lobby where the hallway emptied into the peaceful sitting area. Her expression was sympathetic but hesitant, clearly aware she’d interrupted something profoundly personal.
“Lawrence is here,” Tina said softly, “and he has a few more questions he’d like to discuss with you.”
Tyler closed his eyes briefly, exhaling slowly, heavily. His mind raced through all the tasks that awaited him. He needed to finalize the funeral arrangements, meet with Marshall, contact the American Legion, and handle numerous other responsibilities he had yet to fully comprehend. But at this moment, wrapped in the comforting arms of a woman whose name he didn’t even know, Tyler felt an overwhelming urge to remain exactly where he was, ignoring the outside world and its demands a little longer.
Yet the woman slowly loosened her gentle grip, stepping back carefully. A faint, forced smile curled her lips upward as she whispered, “Thank you.”
Tyler shook his head slightly, sincerity heavy in his reply. “I should be thanking you.”
Her shoulders lifted slightly in a gentle, almost apologetic shrug. “We both had a need,” she whispered. Her gaze drifted briefly toward Tina, standing patiently at a respectful distance. “And you have things to do.”
With deep reluctance, Tyler nodded, stepping back from her warmth. He drew another long breath, steadying himself before turning to walk toward the nurses’ station, each step feeling oddly heavy.
Realizing abruptly that he still hadn’t learned her name, Tyler jerked his head around sharply, hoping desperately forone more glimpse and a chance to speak to her. But she had already moved toward the elevators and stepped inside. Their eyes briefly met as the doors began closing, her gentle gaze filled with quiet understanding. Then the doors slid shut completely, leaving Tyler staring after her with an unexpected sense of loss.
Sighing heavily, he turned back toward Tina, his heart feeling oddly conflicted. It was still heavy with grief, yet strangely lighter for the kindness offered by the mysterious stranger who’d shared a moment of profound solace.
5
As Tyler stepped out of the funeral home, the weight of his responsibilities pressed down on his shoulders like an anchor dragging him beneath dark waves. Yet he acknowledged with a quiet gratitude that his burden could have been so much heavier if not for his grandfather’s unwavering practicality. Charlie, ever thoughtful and meticulous, had prearranged everything, right down to the smallest detail. All Tyler had been required to do was sign a few final forms, a perfunctory task that had still felt impossibly difficult.
The funeral director had even thoughtfully contacted the American Legion chaplain, arranging for a flag to be draped solemnly over the casket. They had promised pallbearers, fellow veterans, and friends who had shared camaraderie and stories with Charlie through the decades, each one ready to speak fondly at the graveside service. The Legion Auxiliary, always generous, had already rallied its members, ensuring an abundance of food would greet those mourning at the reception afterward.
Tyler had been invited to the Legion building the following day to finalize arrangements and meet others who wanted to honor his grandfather’s memory. He knew these gestures shouldcomfort him, yet a hollow numbness lingered as he climbed into his rental SUV and made his way back toward Charlie’s house.
