“But I guess those college scouts can’t talk to him until his junior year,” Mrs. Jenkins said, still talking about her grandson. She seemed to be clueless to Janice’s wandering mind.
Janice blinked to refocus on her, intending to engage, wanting to engage with her. Unfortunately, she just couldn’t tie her thoughts down enough to discuss basketball. Everyone around them seemed to be able to properly converse, so she should be able to as well. What was her deal? Why was this so difficult? Was it the venue? They were in the large activity room of the church’s second building, where the offices, daycare, and Sunday school classrooms were. The space was crowded, regardless of its size, with many people still waiting in line at the buffet. But large crowds and loud noise had never bothered her before.
She refocused yet again and found Mrs. Jenkins looking at her with her wide eyes, probably waiting for her to respond to something she’d said.
She scrambled for words, a bit panicked. “It all sounds so exciting. You’ll have to be sure and keep me updated.” She smiled, anxiously waiting to see if her hurried response had been sufficient.
Mrs. Jenkins nodded and returned the smile. “Oh, yes, you bet I will.”
She seemed pleased and took a bite of macaroni salad while Janice pushed at the unwanted deviled egg on her plate with her plastic fork. The potato salad was good and so were the baked beans, but she couldn’t finish them. Instead she sipped her Sun Drop and panned the room, still anxious to see Carla.
She entered at that very moment, walking in from the adjoining kitchen as if she’d sensed Janice’s thoughts again. She carefully wiped her cheeks as if trying to make sure she looked presentable. She’d cried all through the graveside service. Janice had been behind her, but she could tell by the way her head was bowed and her shoulders shook. Cole had kept his arm around her, and he’d tried to soothe her by rubbing her back. It seemed to do little to console her, and when they’d walked back for the buffet, Carla had promptly disappeared, and Janice had assumed she’d wanted some privacy and a quiet place to gather herself.
Janice watched her bypass the enormous spread of food, waving off Maurine who was holding up a paper plate and speaking to her, obviously trying to get her to eat. Instead, Carla crossed the room and sat with Ms. Starnes, who was alone at a nearby table. She had been one of Betty’s closest friends and Janice was surprised to see her. She’d last heard that she wasn’t faring too well with her health. But there she was, dressed in her best, gray hair set, and makeup on. Only…she was crying. Not in any real noticeable fashion. She just had tears glistening in her eyes. And Carla, despite her own pain and anguish, held her delicate face and gently smoothed those tears away for her as they fell. She then took her hands in hers, said something more, and stood to kiss her forehead. Ms. Starnes smiled warmly up at her, and Janice realized that witnessing their heartfelt interaction had left her breathless.
She’d seen Carla do things like that countless times over the years, but there was something about that particular moment that struck her. It could’ve been the gentle way in which she’d held the older woman’s face. The soft, kind way she spoke to her. Or the deep affection Carla had shown for her with the kiss. But Janice suspected it was the selflessness that had gotten to her.
Carla had taken the time to sit and comfort a sad, grieving soul when her own sadness and grief was so strong, it kept overwhelming her.
In fact, she’d probably had to do her best to hold back even more tears as she’d comforted Ms. Starnes.
The whole scenario moved Janice profoundly, and when Carla left Ms. Starnes and headed for the exit, Janice stood and collected her cup and plate.
“Would you excuse me, please? I need to go catch Carla.”
“Okay, sugar,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “You give that girl a big hug for me.”
Janice assured her she would and then quickly threw away her trash and followed Carla out the door. But much to her dismay, Carla was nowhere to be seen. Janice shaded her brow, trying to locate her amongst the various people mulling about, talking and embracing.
Where had she gone? Did she leave?
Then Janice saw movement from behind a far tree and she homed in on the stark blond hair. She crossed the vast lawn and tried to come up with something to say. Nothing came by the time she rounded the tree and quietly approached her from behind.
Carla was standing with her hands in her pockets, staring out across the church’s property to where the cemetery was near the edge of the woods. Janice followed her line of sight to the mound of red dirt that now topped Betty’s grave. Carla appeared to be taking that in and no doubt trying her damndest to accept what she was seeing.
Janice came to a stand next to her and stared along with her, not wanting to disturb her but too concerned to leave her be. She could feel the heaviness of her sorrow and the intensity of her thoughts, like she was sensing and understanding Carla in a way others couldn’t see or comprehend.
The silence between them stretched for a long moment before Carla spoke.
“She would’ve hated all this,” she said, her eyes still trained ahead. “She loved everybody and would’ve been touched that so many people cared, but all this…attention, she wouldn’t have liked it. She was too humble and introverted for all this.”
“She was, wasn’t she?”
“I’m glad I put my foot down about having a public viewing. She would’ve haunted me for years had I allowed that.”
Janice studied the side of her face and saw a hint of a smile at what she’d just said. It made Janice’s heart flutter.
“Granted, she’ll probably still haunt me,” Carla continued. “Just for mere shits and giggles.”
Janice laughed and Carla glanced over at her then. Her eyes looked like liquid gold, and Janice blushed at their intense searching of her. But in an instant, that powerful seeking stopped, leaving Janice confused and off balance, like the thick, tight chord that had been between them had snapped.
Carla looked back toward the cemetery, apparently not nearly as affected at the loss of connection as she was. She wondered what those shimmering eyes had seen in her. If they’d found what they’d been searching for. Carla’s demeanor gave away nothing, however.
“I’m not really sure how to do this,” she eventually said.
“Do what?”
“Grieve.”
“I don’t think there is a knowing how when it comes to grieving. Everyone does so in their own way.”
“You’ve always been so insightful,” she said. “It didn’t matter what the situation was, you always had the answer or knew what to say.”
Janice had never known she’d felt that way. She was almost moved to tears to hear her say it.
Carla looked at her again, her gaze full of emotion. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything you’ve ever done for my family. And for…what you did for me back there during the service. I don’t think I could’ve made it through without you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Carla.”
But everything you’re saying is making my heart sing.
“Oh, but I do. I’m not exactly sure what it was that happened or exactly what it was that you did. All I know is that you helped me. You were there. You. Your face amongst dozens of others. Why did you stand out and others didn’t? I don’t know. Why did I look up at that very moment to find you? I don’t know. I just know it felt like—even though I knew it was you—it felt like you were different. Like I was seeing you for the very first time.” She rubbed her forehead. “I know that doesn’t make any sense.”