Page 112 of Falling into Place
Chapter Thirty
Brooks
Guys don’t cry at movies.
—Brooks Martin in high school, probably
“Stop fidgeting.”
Brooks glanced over at Macy and frowned. They were gathered with Coach’s family and friends in a church foyer, waiting to enter the sanctuary for his funeral services. How was she so calm and collected?
He’d been dreading this for days. He’d only attended two memorial services in his life—one for his mom and one for his dad—and few things had brought him the same degree of melancholy. Wasn’t Macy thinking about that, too?
“I can’t stand funerals,” he admitted, ignoring her admonition and shifting on the balls of his feet. He’d loved Coach and wanted to pay his respects, and it was important to show Linda support. But he couldn’t help all the memories flooding back, thick with the pain and loss of his teenage and young adult years. “They’re so depressing.”
Macy glanced at the program she’d grabbed on the way in. “This one’s called acelebration of life,” she said. “Maybe it will be different.”
He snorted, skeptical, but as it turned out, she was right. After the doors opened and the crowd filed in, Brooks took in the scene around him.
Nothing was what he’d expected.
Instead of a moody, melodic soundtrack of classical music, they took their seats to the sound of The Who’s “Who Are You.” Macy glanced at Brooks with aWhat the hell?look on her face, and he just grinned.
“His favorite song,” he whispered.
Instead of flower bouquets lining the stage, the banners from his four state basketball championships had been brought in. Poster boards with memorable Coach-isms were posted around the room, some that made Brooks laugh and others that had him hoping no children were in the room. Or if there were, that they couldn’t read yet.
The pastor didn’t talk long, but when he did, he told a story about the time Coach fell asleep during a men’s Bible study and farted so loud he woke himself up. Brooks almost cried he was laughing so hard.
Most of the service consisted of a rotation of speakers, all with positive, funny, and uplifting stories about Coach. A few people choked up once or twice, but for the most part, the afternoon lived up to its name.
A celebration.
Linda was the last to speak, and Brooks tensed up when she stepped to the microphone, anxious on her behalf. The last time he’d spoken to her was when he delivered the news, and he could still hear her sobs. Wasn’t it too soon for her to talk about him up there? Would she be able to hold it together?
But her eulogy, if you could even call it that, was the most entertaining of all. She told story after story—of how they met, what he’d been like as a dad, the things he did that drove her crazy, and how he’d always kept her on her toes. Every memory she described was saturated with Coach McKee’s trademark wit, kindness, and surprising wisdom.
The service—no, celebration—stood in stark contrast to anything else Brooks had experienced when it came to loss, and it was quite frankly eye opening. He knew Linda wished Coach was still here and would grieve the loss, but even in his absence she could still laugh at the good memories, and think about him and smile. It was beautiful and refreshing.
It was hopeful.
Brooks was reeling by the time he and Macy left two hours later.
“That was incredible,” Macy said, voice filled with awe. “That’s exactly what I want when I die, okay? I’m putting you in charge.”
“Why me?” Brooks sputtered as they made their way across the parking lot. “What about Mark?”
“He’s wasn’t here. He didn’t see it. It’s gotta be you, bro. That vibe exactly, you hear me?”
“Okay, yes. Consider it done,” he promised.
They reached their cars, parked side by side. He thanked his sister for coming with him, and Macy gave him a hug before she got in her car and drove away. Brooks lowered himself into his own driver’s seat and pulled out his phone. He’d put it on silent before the service.
Three missed calls and two texts from Sasha. She must have forgotten where he’d be this afternoon.
Sasha:Benjamin is back and he’s after your girl
Sasha:If you don’t pull your head out of your ass and do something about that, I swear to God I’ll never forgive you
