Page 90 of True North

ChapterTwenty-Three

LOUISA

The crowd of people who have flooded the cemetery for Rosie’s service is a testament to her wonderful soul. Evelyn stands by Harry as I read the eulogy. Every line, every sentiment jotted down was offered up by the folks of Lewistown. She was loved dearly.

“Rose Elizabeth Rawlins, Rosie, was...” The words sound too monotone, a disservice to her spirit, but I read on. The page of Ma’s life story I have studied on repeat since it was put together is too rote. “...a loving mother who devoted her last breath to her family, Rosie...” I glance up at Harry.

He shifts on his feet. Tears cut down his face, moisture glistening on his jawline. Evelyn leans in, squeezing his hand. A stone grows in my throat at the sight. My heart is a mangled mess at the sight of my Harry, heartbroken. As if I can, I speak faster hoping to shorten his pain. “She will be so missed, but never, ever forgotten.”

My throat closes over as tears blur my vision. Small, huffy breaths leave Harry. The preacher gives me a nod when I manage the last line and scramble from my spot to get back to Harry’s side. The crowd sways where they stand, sniffles and sobs splitting the cooling fall air. As if the loss of this great woman brought its own cold front.

Harry’s hat hangs in his hands.

His head bowed down, his throat works with every breath. I slide in beside him, wrapping my arm through his.

What I wouldn’t do to take away the pain eatin’ him up. The coffin lowers, and we step forward to throw flower petals and dirt over it. Harry falters forward, plucking a handful of dirt from the pile and scattering it over the wooden surface.

I take up a handful of yellow wildflowers I found on one of the hills at the ranch. Unfurling my grasp, I watch as they float down into the now motionless resting place of Rosie.

Ma.

I chug through a sob and roll my lips together, trying and failing to tamp down the sorrow fighting its way out.

“Bye, Ma.” Harry’s raw and tortured words see me look up. He stands close, and his arm winds around my back. I rest my head on his shoulder.

“We should get to the community hall for the wake,” I say softly. I need to make sure everything is in place. Mama Mancini’s been helping me for the past day and half to ensure there is enough food and drink. Evelyn organized everything else.

We turn back and wander through the cemetery toward the truck, and Harry makes a detour. An old oak shades part of the southern end of the cemetery, and he pulls me toward it.

“Where are we goin’?” I utter.

“Not to the wake, that’s for damn sure.”

“Why not?”

“I ain’t sittin’ around, small talkin’ my way through folks feelin’ sorry for me. Or Ma.”

“I don’t think that’s really the intention...”

“Ain’t doin’ it, Lou. There’s no use rehashing what’s done.”

“Then where do you want to go?”

I lean against the tree. Harry stops in front of me, plucking his hat from his head. It spins through his fingers, the brim turning over and over like he’s always done. “Home.”

“I have a shift tomorrow. Early.” It’s a six o’clock start. It takes an hour to get to town from the ranch...

Harry stares off into the depths of nowhere, jaw clenching. “That tiny apartment isn’t your home, Louisa, and you know it.”

I do.

I have for a while now.

“What about when I work late at the restaurant? My little old Datsun isn’t exactly reliable.”

“Then I’ll drive you. Or you take the truck, if I’m not usin’ it.”

“I can’t ask you to do that...”

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