Page 5 of The Summer Request
When it seemed safe, Val made a dainty exit from the helicopter and slammed the door behind her. She shimmied to the grassy garden, awkwardly trying to keep her heels from sinking into the ground.
The memorial was fenced off and looked like something out of a dream. There must have been thousands of flowers between the fence, the chairs, and Justine’s picture.How elegant.
Val spotted her old friends staring at her and rushed to greet them.
“Valerie Villano,” Lisa said, shaking her head. “You had to make an entrance, didn’t you?”
“Oh, that?” She kissed Lisa gingerly on the cheek. “It’s the only way to travel. Don’t tell me you drove?”
“I took the scenic route,” Lisa said. “It involved a car, and a boat, and another car…no helicopter for me, though. I’m no celebrity.”
Val laughed. It was fun to tease, and be teased by, Lisa again. “I assume my route was scenic, though I didn’t look down much.”
“It’s good to see you.” Michelle gave her a hug. “I think they’re getting started soon.”
“Of course,” Val said, her voice hushed.
They took their seats and moments later, the music grew louder. Val tried to distract herself from the reality of the situation by looking at the faces around them. If she thought too hard about the shiny wooden box in front of them, she would burst into tears.
In the first row sat Tammy, quiet as a stone and completely alone. Other strangers dotted the rows in front. Lou was two rows behind them, the look on his face like he was holding in a sneeze.
Trying to look sad, most likely.
Traitor. He’d broken Justine’s heart. She’d fallen apart after that divorce. More than once, Justine had called Val in the middle of the night, all desperation and sobs.
“Should I call him?” she would ask. “Beg him for another chance?”
Val always gave her a confident, resolute,no.Shepromised Justine she’d soon move on to bigger and better things.
It seemed Justine didn’t quite manage to do that in the years following the divorce, though. Val wasn’t sure what she had been up to, exactly. Justine had just stopped calling about it, and it was honestly a bit of a relief. Val knew nothing about divorce. Not really.
What insight did she have? What comfort could she offer? All those nights when she dashed to answer Justine’s calls, she’d left her husband snoozing peacefully in their bed.
Though they’d had their fair share of blowouts over the years, she was comfortable in the fact that they’d done things right. They’d waited to get married until they were older, until they knew what they wanted, and they were incredibly well-matched.
It wasn’t until this year, on the eve of their twentieth anniversary party, that her own traitor of a husband showed his true colors and told her, “I’m sorry. I’m not in love with you anymore.”
He wouldn’t be allowed at her funeral – if he outlived her. Val smiled to herself. He didn’t have a chance, not with his high cholesterol and inability to remember to take his medications.
“Thank you all for coming here today to honor the life of our dear friend, Justine Emerald.”
Val sucked in a shaky breath. It was incomprehensible that Justine was gone. She half expected her to jump out and tell them it was all a prank.
She never did, though, and the service pressed on. Some stranger got up and shared a memory of the first time they met Justine. Then another stranger read a poem –Death is Nothing at All.
Val liked that one. They’d read it at her neighbor’s funeral. The guy had just dropped dead one day when he was watering his flowers. Not a bad way to go.
She looked down at her nails, studying the chipped paint on her pointer finger. She needed something to look at in order not to cry. No one else was crying, and she wasn’t going to be the one to start.
That was an honor reserved for Tammy, not Val. Really, the person who seemed to be having the hardest time keeping it together was Zora.
Poor Zora. Lost a friendandshe was out of a job.
Music started playing again, and people were getting up. Val was surprised. The service felt short.
“Was that it?” she asked.
“I think so.” Michelle shrugged. “She must’ve had a bigger service back home.”
