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I’d found out about his death through Brooke. Stevie’s friend and boss, Melissa Landry, had called Brooke to let her know what happened. As soon as I heard Brooke say the words, all the emotions that I’d been holding inside ever since the day I told Stevie goodbye through a song came pouring out. All I could think about was how broken her heart had to be and also how much I wished I could be in Austin to hold her in my arms and let her cry.
When Brooke asked me about going to Mr. Sinclair’s funeral, I immediately said yes. Nothing could stop me. When I called Bash and told him what happened, he said the same thing.
While Brooke was using the church restroom, Bash and I walked into the large sanctuary and stood to the side. I could see Mr. Sinclair’s open casket sitting in front of the pulpit, countless sprays of flowers stretching out from both ends of it,plus displays of photos of him, his wife—and Stevie. The line of people walking past his casket was long and I already knew that I would not be joining it.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked over to see Brooke.
“What do you wanna do, Buchanan?” she asked.
“Stay right here. I don’t want Stevie to see me and get even more upset, so I’m gonna pay my respects from afar. You and Bash go ahead, though. I know it’ll do Stevie so much good to see both of you. She’ll appreciate you being here.”
“Okay then. I’m gonna go get in line to pay my own respect to Joan of Arc’s pastor-dad and then I’m gonna go sit down in a church pew, hope that lightning doesn’t strike me, say a prayer for the love of your life, and then cry my way through the rest of this damn funeral. Are you with me, Bash?” Brooke asked him.
All he could do was nod his head yes. He couldn’t speak because he was a ball of emotions. Professionally, Bash was the boldest and could also be the meanest attorney there was. Personally, though, he was the kindest and biggest-hearted person that I knew other than my parents, Brooke Murphy—and Stevie Sinclair.
As the funeral began, people were still coming into the sanctuary to take their seats. Brooke and Bash were sitting about a third of the way down and I was still standing by one of the entryways. Then I saw Stevie enter her dad’s church to the right of the choir loft, wearing a fitted black dress on her now rail-thin body.
A woman was walking beside her, holding her hand. I guessed her to be Melissa or another one of Stevie’s Austin friends. On the other side of Stevie, there was a man and he was holding her hand too. I had no idea who he was but the thought immediately came to me that it was Stevie’s ex-husband, Graham. Because of his long history with Stevie and her family,and also his being on cordial terms with Stevie, it made sense that he would be here today to help her.
As I was watching her walk over to the front pew that was marked for family, I choked back my tears because of the pain that I could see on her beautiful face and also the tremble in her body even from where I was standing. I wanted to run to her so badly. I wanted to take her into my arms, hold her so tight and tell her that everything was going to be okay. I didn’t, though. I didn’t move.
The assistant pastor, Kyle Hughes, was the first person to speak about Mr. Sinclair and while listening to him, I wondered if Stevie was going speak. I wondered if she was going to share some of her cherished memories of her dad and also her mom. The people here knew Mrs. Sinclair as well as they knew her husband. From what Stevie told me, they were two separate human beings yet they were one.
A few more people spoke after the assistant pastor, but Stevie wasn’t one of them. She never got up from where she was sitting. Realizing shecouldn’tspeak about her dad got to me even more. She was hurting so badly and if she had tried to make herself go stand at that pulpit, there was no telling what would’ve happened. My Joan of Arc was wounded and nearly fatally. She had a long road of healing ahead of her.
With all the talking and praying over with and a pianist now playing music, the funeral attendees began making their way up to the front of the church to see Stevie. When Brooke and Bash’s row was told that it was their turn, though, the two of them walked back up to me.
“Buchanan?” Brooke said.
“What?”
“Thethreeof us are going up front to see Stevie.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Brooke, I…”
She held up her hand for me to stop arguing with her.
“Zac, it’s not only the right thing to do but Stevie needs to see you, even if she starts crying harder than she already is,” Bash added. Then he pointed toward the receiving line. “You’ve gotta go up there.”
I was in a back and forth stare-off with my best friend and my other mother. Several seconds passed and I still didn’t agree with what they were insisting that I do.
“The time isn’t right and both of you know it,” I finally said to them.
“I think it is the right time for you to not only share your condolences with Stevie about her father’s passing, but also to tell her about what’s happened inyourlife,” Brooke said, and Bash nodded in agreement. “You may not get to tell her about yourself when you see her in a few minutes, but Stevie being able to see the love that you still have for her shining in those blue eyes of yours could quite possibly open the door for you to let her in on the secret that you’ve been keeping. In fact, I’d bet on it.”
I stared up at the ceiling, shook my head and then closed my eyes and sighed. My heart was about to beat out of my chest and the lump in my throat was already there because I knew what I was about to do. I was about to come face-to-face again with the one and only woman who my soul ached for. The woman who changed the course of my life. The woman who I still hoped had room for me in hers.
It was Brooke, first in line, then Bash and then me as we approached Stevie, who was still sitting in the front church pew with the same woman and man on either side of her and numerous other people surrounding them. I watched Stevie look up in a teary daze, and at the moment she realized it was Brooke standing in front of her, she slowly stood up and the two women hugged each other and started crying. We all were.
After Stevie and Brooke had somewhat composed themselves, Stevie thanked her old boss for coming to her dad’s funeral, and then she saw Bash. She reached out for him and they held each other while mourning the loss of so much. It wasn’t just Mr. Sinclair. Bash and Stevie had lost access to their incredible friendship when she moved away from Dallas. I knew how much it hurt Bash not having her around anymore and how much he missed her.
He and Stevie were standing only a few feet away from me, still hugging with their heads resting against each other’s. I couldn’t see Bash’s face but I could see Stevie’s and she had her eyes closed. Although I’d been this close to her all this time and I’d seen her open her eyes a few times since hugging Bash, she hadn’t noticed me. Or rather, she couldn’t see me. It was very apparent to me now that due to her emotional and physical state, she really could only see what was in front of her and barely a little to either side. Her vision wasn’t only blurred, it was also tunneled.
When Stevie and Bash looked at each other again, she smiled a weary smile at him and he did the same. Then he kissed her cheek and stepped aside for me to have my turn with the woman whom my soul would always love.
