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Suddenly overwhelmed, I shut my phone off and turned my focus back toward my brother’s grave. I always thought of it as a one-sided conversation. What would Greg want to know?
“Brian is an idiot,” I told him. “And yes, Noah looked good. He was stunned to see me. You know, Mercy told me yesterday that I should forgive him and myself. Like I could ever do that.” I paused, choking on a sob. “Losing you that day was and always will be our fault. I’m sorry, but I can’t ever make up for it. You’re gone, and I will suffer for it the rest of my life.” I kissed the tips of my fingers and pressed them against his engraved face. “I love you.”
A voice pierced the quiet. “Ella Bella.”
I jumped up and whirled around, taken by surprise. “Oh. Hey.”
Clint Long stood with his hands in his pockets. Clint and I had graduated from high school the same year, and I’d seen him last week in the ER. He was an electrician in town, and he had hurt his hand. The reunion had been nice, but he’d asked me out and I’d put him off.
Clint looked past me. “Oh. Sorry to bother you. I was just leaving flowers at my mom’s grave and saw you. I should give you your privacy.”
“It’s okay,” I said, taking a step toward him. I’d forgotten that he’d lost his mom to cancer during our junior year. Clint had led the school in fundraising and everything.
“Okay,” he said, smiling at me. He held his hand up. “My hand is healing nicely. Thanks for the stitches.”
I shifted into my nurse persona. “Good. Remember to come in next week and get them out. Don’t take them out by yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave me a little salute, grinning. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I smiled back. Clint was a nice guy, and I could tell when we’d talked at the hospital that he’d purposely tried to make me feelwelcome and not talk about the hard things when I’d stitched him up. “That’s good. Then I’ll see you next week.”
“Will you?”
I shrugged. “If I’m not the one taking them out, make sure to stop by to say hi.”
“Okay. I … Would you want to grab dinner next week?”
I hesitated.
“Or lunch.” He grinned again. “I’m not picky about which meal I eat with you.”
That was kind, but I didn’t really want to be involved with anyone. Instantly, I thought of Noah, who I didn’t want to date either. Still, I could imagine eating dinner with Noah in our old haunt at Jim’s Place, with our favorite pineapple anchovy ham pizza dripping with grease. I blinked as all the old memories threatened to come back.
“Ella?”
“Uh, I’d better not.”
“It’s just two friends having dinner. We could grab burgers and go to the falls and sit at those picnic tables. How about Thursday?”
It didn’t sound bad. I hadn’t been out to the falls since I’d been home. My heart thrummed as I considered how to word this. “Thank you, Clint, but I just got divorced and I’m trying to start over. Now just isn’t the right time.”
His smile turned thin. “Right. Timing. I guess that’s as good of an excuse as any.”
“An excuse?” That set my hackles rising. I was highly sensitive to mood changes in men, especially after being married to Brian and dealing with all the crap he’d put me through. Mercy always teased me that I’d gotten jaded from going through a dozen red flags before learning how to recognize them.
I turned away from him, dismissing all ideas of possibly dating him in the future.
“Hey, wait.”
I put my hand up. “I have to get going.” I fixed him with a look to emphasize my point. “I don’t want to go out, Clint.”
I left him standing there. Maybe I was being oversensitive, as my mother had insinuated, but this was Greg’s day. I hated that I’d seen anyone here and the mood had been spoiled.
As I walked through the rows of graves, something flashed in my periphery. I paused next to the Hamilton mausoleum, one of only two such structures at the cemetery. Was someone else here, besides me and Clint? My heart thumped, and I picked up speed, crossing the gate. I had to get out here before church let out. Pastor Jones had tried to talk to me last week. I wasn’t opposed to church, but I certainly wasn’t ready to start attending regularly again.
The sermon would be over soon, and the churchgoers would start coming out. Would Noah be at church with his family? Of course, the answer was yes. His mother had never let the kids miss church growing up.
I marched toward the parking lot, but then something occurred to me. I turned back to get one last view of the cemetery … and I saw Noah walking toward my brother’s grave.
