What followed was such a tender and glowing eulogy—for a man Riley was fairly sure the priest had never met—that Riley could only conclude it had been written by Evelyn.
“Who’s he talking about?” Billy asked, giggling at his own humor.
“Shhh.” Riley just managed to suppress her own giggle.
“In Ecclesiastes, we are reminded that to everything there is a season,” Father said. “And a purpose under heaven.”
Riley had found the verse underlined in red in her grandmother’s Bible. It was one of Nanny’s favorite pieces of scripture, and she’d quoted it so often that Riley could almost recite it from memory.
“‘A time to live and a time to die. A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted … a time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance.’”
Wendell’s time, Riley wryly reflected, had come, but not soon enough. How much destruction had the son of a bitch left in his wake? And what else would she discover in the weeks to come?
Riley heard a muffled sob and looked over at Evelyn, who was softly crying into a linen handkerchief. She reached over Maggy’s lap and took her mother’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. After a moment, Evelyn squeezed back.
The priest droned on through the rest of the verses from Ecclesiastes. “‘… And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labor because it is the gift of God.’”
This last elicited another fit of giggles from Billy Nolan, which earned him a death stare from his mother.
Finally, Father Templeton got to the verse Riley had been waiting for. It was the one Nanny had underlined and starred in the Bible, and though her grandmother was dead and buried before Riley met Wendell, it was the verse that rang truest for her.
“‘I said in mine heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked: for there is a time there for every purpose and for every work.’”
Riley nodded in solemn agreement. Wendell’s judgement might come in heaven, but down here on earth, she’d judged for herself, and her verdict would never win him a pass beyond the pearly gates.
“Wendell’s daughter, Maggy, would like to say a few words.”
“Ready?” Riley asked, turning to her daughter.
“I think so,” Maggy whispered. “Could you hold Banks?” She unbuttoned Wendell’s shirt and Riley saw that the puppy was sound asleep. She gently transferred the sleeping pug to her own lap.
When she reached the altar, Father Templeton helped her to the pulpit, then stepped aside.
Maggy extracted a sheet of lined notebook paper from the breast pocket of the shirt and slowly unfolded it. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat.
Her voice was low but the words clear. “My name is Margaret Evelyn Griggs. I am Wendell Griggs’s daughter. And I know a lot of you think you know my dad, but I bet none of you know how special my dad was.
“My dad did a lot for this island. Even before he met my mom, Dad came to work here for my granddaddy, and he helped build a lot of houses on this island. He did a lot of good things that people don’t know about, too. In Raleigh, where we live, he and I cleared a nature trail that runs through our neighborhood so that people in wheelchairs could be in nature. He and some other dads gave the money for a new soccer field at my school, and my dad drove the bulldozer when they were making the field okay for us to play on. He paid for the Big Belle lighthouse to be painted too, and hardly anybody knows that.”
Maggy looked down at her paper. She bit her lip and continued. “My dad taught me a lot. He told me to always go to the net in tennis. He taught me how to ride a bike and how to do fractions. And he let me drive the golf cart sitting on his lap starting when I was a really little kid. Almost every Saturday when he was home, he and I went to the Waffle House or the Mercantile for breakfast so my mom could sleep late, and he taught me that scrambled eggs always need hot sauce. And the most important thing he told me was that you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat their dogs.
“This year…” Maggy’s voice trailed off for a moment. “This year I got pretty sick and we found out that I have diabetes, and I had to go to the hospital and stuff and get shots and not have candy and Cokes anymore.” She sniffed and looked down, and then back up again. “My dad wanted to surprise me, so one day he came to the hospital, and he brought me a puppy for my very own. And the nurses yelled at him, but Dad told them to back off, so they did. And then my dad crawled into the hospital bed with me, and I decided to name the puppy Mr. Banks, because Mr. Banks was the dad in Mary Poppins, which is my favorite movie, except for Star Wars, which my dad took me to when the new one came out because his dad took him when he was a kid.”
Maggy gripped the lectern with shaking hands. “My dad had to work a lot, so lately he wasn’t home that much, but almost every night, he called me to tell me good night, and say that he loved me.”
She seemed to be staring directly at Riley. “I know some people are saying bad things about my dad. But they’re not true. My dad loved me, and he loved my mom, and he loved Belle Isle. And I wish he weren’t dead.”
She folded her paper and put it back in her pocket. “That’s all I wanted to say.”
Father Templeton put a kindly arm around the child’s shoulder. “Thank you, Maggy, for such a beautiful, heartfelt tribute.”
Maggy nodded wordlessly and left the altar, but instead of joining her family in their pew, she leaned in without a word and took the now-awake Banks from her mother, then continued down the main aisle and out the door of the chapel.
“I’ll go get her,” Evelyn said, but Riley shook her head. “Let her go, Mama. She just needs a little more time to grieve.”
56
On Saturday morning, Riley sat up in bed and met the bemused eyes of her best friend. She looked around the room. “Why am I in your guest bedroom?”
“I certainly wasn’t going to put you in my bed,” Parrish said. “I love you like a sister, but even I have certain limits.”
“No. Seriously.”
Parrish handed her a mug of coffee and grinned. “There are so many ways I’m tempted to answer that question.”
“You’re really enjoying yourself at my expense, aren’t you?”
“Hugely.”
“How about just telling me the truth?”
“Spoilsport. Okay, the truth isn’t all that exciting. You managed to make it through the service all right, although Billy did have to shake you awake at one point. And then afterward, when everybody came back here for supper, you fixed yourself a plate of food and guzzled down approximately three glasses of white wine like a pro.”
“Oh, no.” Riley flopped back onto the bed. “It was those damn pills of yours. Mama started in on me about my dress, and I just couldn’t take it. I popped two pills right before we left for church … and as soon as we sat down I started feeling kind of weird. You know, like my give-a-shit had up and gone…”
“Good God, Riles. You took two Xanax followed by about a quart of pinot grigio? No wonder you were zonked out of your gourd.”
“What exactly did I do? Or do I even want to know?”