The limo stopped and Cole opened the door, not realizing that Cliff was waiting to do it for them, none of them used to being waited on. They climbed out and gathered at the front entrance where the big doors were propped open. The gentle sound of gospel music enveloped them, along with the familiar smell of the church interior. Something Carla would recognize blindfolded. A few other family members joined them at the entrance, mostly her grandmother’s remaining siblings. When they walked inside, they went two by two, and Carla was overwhelmed at the mass of people in attendance. The church was packed full and they all stood for them as they entered, and Carla, who was so moved she teared up, questioned for the first time whether or not she’d be able to make it through the eulogy.
She looked upward and said a silent prayer as they were led to the pews in the front. Her knees bounced as she sat waiting, only able to half listen to Preacher Douglas as he spoke. The eulogy she’d written was crinkled from being folded up in her pocket, and it shook in her hand. She closed her eyes, and suddenly, there was a hand squeezing her shoulder.
She opened her eyes to find Cole looking at her.
“It’s your turn,” he whispered.
Preacher Douglas was looking at her too from his position next to the pulpit. She stood and walked up to the steps on numb-feeling legs. Her hands tingled as she placed the eulogy on the stand and glanced out at the crowd. Faces blurred and meshed into other faces. She knew nearly every one of these people, yet she couldn’t focus well enough to recognize anyone. She scanned the pews, looking, searching, needing to see a familiar face. Someone who would look back at her and nod, letting her know she could do this.
She cleared her throat, hoping it wouldn’t seize up, and that’s when she saw someone. Right there in the second pew. Just behind Maurine.
Janice.
Janice Carpenter.
A woman she’d known her entire life.
A woman she had nothing but the utmost respect for.
A woman who had always been there for her family.
Now she was there once again. This time for her.
She was staring directly at her, holding her gaze, and she looked so kind and understanding and empathetic, like she wanted to stand alongside her and hold her hand as a pillar of silent support.
As if confirming that she was indeed willing to be that pillar, she gave Carla a single, encouraging nod.
Thank you.
Carla looked down at the crumpled paper and began to read. She spoke loud and clear, and her voice, which had thankfully recovered from the week before, seemed to carry very well. She was still a little shaky at times, and her voice wavered with emotion, but she carried on, sharing bits of her grandmother’s life and who she was as a person. She shared treasured memories and humorous moments that caused people to both wipe away tears and laugh heartily. And as she did this, she continued to glance up and lock eyes with Janice Carpenter. For she was her anchor and the only soul who was keeping her from being engulfed and tossed about by the stormy sea of grief and sadness that lingered close by.
But as Carla came to the last sentence, the one she knew by heart, she had to pause. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Her throat was tightening, betraying her. Tears were mounting. She inhaled and her breath shook in her chest.
She opened her eyes and focused on Janice who had her palms pressed together beneath her chin like she was in prayer. Maybe she was. Maybe she was praying for her.
Carla could only hope that her prayer would be answered.
She spoke, made it through two words, and her voice caved. Preacher Douglas came to her and placed his hand on the small of her back. He asked if she was okay.
She continued, forcing the last line out and into the ears of all who loved her grandmother. It didn’t come out pretty and it wasn’t loud and clear. But she got it out.
And then, as she finally tore her eyes from Janice and Preacher Douglas began to lead her away, she did what she’d been trying so hard not to.
She broke down and cried, succumbing to that lingering sea of sadness.
Chapter Five
Janice nodded politely at Mrs. Jenkins, her former first grade teacher, as she carried on about her grandson and his prowess on the basketball court. According to her, he was so good he was Carolina bound, which was what she’d always hoped for seeing as how she was a former Tarheel herself. She seemed to think Janice should be just as proud of him judging by the way she was carrying on and looking hopefully at her.
Janice feigned interest with raised eyebrows and nodded. She sipped her Sun Drop from a Styrofoam cup and tried to keep paying attention as they ate the buffet lunch the church had provided. Mrs. Jenkins was a wonderful woman and one of her favorite teachers. And considering how proud she was of Janice and her position as a professor of English literature, she felt she owed her that at least.
She was having a great deal of difficulty though, her mind continuously straying to Carla, worried whether or not she was okay after her touching eulogy. She was as moved by her evident grief as she had been by her appearance when she’d first entered the church. Janice had audibly gasped at her androgynous new look. She’d cut her hair. Now wearing it very short in an edgy, stylish cut that accentuated the beautiful contours of her face and brought even more focus to her ever-alluring eyes. And she didn’t even want to start thinking about how gorgeous she looked in that black fitted suit. In fact, if she hadn’t seen the heartache on Carla’s face a split second after her initial arrival had floored her, Janice probably would’ve embarrassed herself by either passing out or making some sort of wanton noise of desire.
But Carla’s sorrow had been more than obvious, and Janice had gone from wanting her to wanting to comfort her in an instant. When she’d stood to give her eulogy, Janice had stared directly into her, willing all the strength and fortitude she had to somehow reach Carla to help her get through a very difficult moment. It seemed to have worked, because Carla had seemed to sense her energy, having looked up and locked onto her gaze. She’d visibly steeled herself then, like Janice had pressed a supportive hand into the small of her back and whispered kind words of encouragement in her ear, thus enabling her to give the most beautiful eulogy Janice had ever heard.
Their silent connection had been palpable, and though Carla had managed to finish her speech, she’d nearly collapsed in Preacher Douglas’s arms and Janice had stood, highly alarmed and intent on getting to her. But the boys beat her to it, hurrying to meet her at the steps, where Preacher Douglas handed her off to be escorted from the church.
Janice had never seen Carla so distraught and she’d just wanted to get to her to do something, anything, to comfort her. That strong need had continued all through the graveside service. But even when Janice did get a chance to be with her one-on-one, she wasn’t sure what sort of comfort she could provide. She would, of course, hug her and offer her condolences, but other than that, what could she do? More importantly, what would Carla allow her to do? She was just as strong-willed and self-reliant as the rest of the Sims clan, and she might not want much in the way of help or comforting. Maurine hadn’t been very open to her affections since she’d arrived home from her conference. She just kept insisting she was fine when it was more than clear she was anything but. Carla could very well respond to her the same way, but Janice hadn’t seen her until she’d walked in the church an hour before. She’d been out running errands the two times Janice had stopped by, so she truly had no idea how she would react to any sort of offer of comfort.