Owen watches her go, his hands tucked into his dark grey dress pants. "Chump?" he asks, bewildered.
"Chump. Technical term." Despite the day I’m having, I smile a little. Livvie is a breath of fresh air for me.
Owen reaches out to me, folding me into his body and kissing the top of my head. "You disappeared."
"I couldn't stand all the finger foods and different types of salad." I'm joking, but it's not totally untrue. The smells of all the foods were meshing together, and I pictured them as different colors, mixing into something grayish-brown and hanging over the room like smog.
"The food is mostly gone now. Do you want to go back?"
I nod against him and he lets me go, only to capture my hand. We walk back into the church, and an idea strikes me. I pull my hand from his. "Owen? I need a few minutes alone. With her…"
"Of course." He brushes a kiss onto my cheek. "I love you."
"I love you too," I answer before opening the light-colored wood doors into the sanctuary. It looks different in here. The lights have been dimmed, and without the backs of people’s heads to look at, it seems so lonely. I've never been alone in a place of worship before, and it's off-putting. I creep forward quietly, matching the volume of the place, which is silent.
At the very front, to the left of the pulpit, is my mom's casket. A spray of purple and white flowers lies on top of its closed hood. When I reach the gleaming dark wood, I press a hand to it.
I don't know what I was thinking would happen. Maybe a sensation. A whisper from the great beyond. A feeling in my heart telling me she's nearby. Instead I feel nothing, and it wrecks me.
Marzipan.
It doesn't work. Fat tears roll down my cheeks and I don't wipe them away. They slip off my chin, landing somewhere, soaking into the fabric of my dress, the carpet, maybe even my shoes.
Once my tears subside, my blurry vision clears, and I see the corner of a folded piece of paper sticking out from under the flowers. Using two fingers, I pinch the paper, tugging gently, and the paper clears its hiding spot.
The first thing I notice is the handwriting. It's familiar, but I can't figure out why. I begin to read.
My Beautiful Faith,
I've learned something new today. Nothing can prepare a man to lose a person they love.
Looking back now, I wish we'd done things differently.
I wish—
I look up from the note. I can't keep reading, it feels like an invasion of privacy. And now I realize why this handwriting is familiar. It's the same as the note I found when I first moved back, the one in her pantry. It seems that the old love isn’t so old.
It seems like my mom had a secret. Someone nobody knew about.
Someone who is here now at her celebration of life, or was at least here long enough to place this note on her casket. I look around, as if they could be hiding in the shadows somewhere. Of course, there is nobody here. Only me. And the body that once housed my mother. I'm still not sure what I believe, but I'd like to think her soul has moved on to heaven. It's a peaceful idea, one that helps me believe she still exists, just in another form.
I decide not to read the note, instead slipping it in with the flowers and allowing my mom’s secret to lay to rest with her.
I press my lips to my fingers, then place the kiss on the top of the casket. "Bye, Mom. I love you." I still don't feel her here, but it seems like the right thing to do and I realize that nothing can make me feel better right now. I just need to live through this and take it day by day.
I find Owen out front. He is chatting with people. They have all heard he was my mom's oncologist, and it's turned him into a sought-after discussion partner. I see him talking to Linda, my mom’s chemo buddy. She survived. She survived and my mom didn’t. I’m happy for her, of course, but it really hits home what a beast cancer is. It doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor or have a family. It takes anyone it wants.
"You're like a celebrity," I murmur into his ear after Linda gives me a small smile and walks away.
"Z list," he says, kissing my temple. "Livvie said to tell you goodbye. She had somewhere she had to be."
The sun is hot, and I'm listless. How am I supposed to walk away? Get in Owen's car and drive back to my mom's house? Wake up in the morning and do what? The person who brought me here, who drank my green juice and ate the gluten free, kale-infused food I prepared, doesn't need those things anymore. What now?
"Are you ready?" Owen squeezes my hand.
"I suppose so." My voice shakes as I gather my hair off the back of my neck and move it so it drapes over one shoulder. "We should say goodbye to Pastor Greg."
We find the pastor standing with two other men. One man speaks, his arms moving animatedly like he's telling a story.
We make our way to him, and I touch his elbow to get his attention. Turning to me, he smiles and steps away from the conversation, nodding to the two men as he goes.
His eyes are red like he's been crying, and I’m touched he would care for a member of his congregation so much.
I extend a hand to him. "Thank you for the beautiful service."
Reaching out, he shakes it. "Your mom was a very special member of our congregation. Heaven gained an angel, that's for sure."
I smile. "Yes."
"We'd love to see you around here more often. You're welcome anytime."
I blink at the invitation, not sure what to say. I promised to go next Sunday, but the Sunday after that and after that? I’m not sure. What God lets my mother get cancer and be taken from me? I’m in the anger phase of grief. "I'm a work in progress right now."
He chuckles. "Aren't we all?"
"Pastor Greg?" An old woman walks up. "Your daughter called the church phone. She says you were supposed to pick up your granddaughter for ice cream a few minutes ago."
He makes a face. "Shoot! Can you please tell her I lost track of time and I'll be there soon?" He reaches down and peels the sleeve of his jacket up, peering at a two-toned watch that makes goosebumps break out on my arms. It’s the watch.
The watch.
The one from my mom’s … it’s his?
My eyes widen.
A brief look of panic skips across his face as he sees me looking intently at the watch and he quickly replaces it with a smile. "Don't be a stranger. You either," he adds, his eyes jumping over to Owen.
As he walks away, I stay rooted in place and I don't move until Owen pulls me along.
"Are you okay?" he asks, glancing back at me.
"The two-toned watch belongs to the pastor…"
"What watch?"
"The watch I found in the kitchen. The watch my mom said was yours. But then you said it wasn't and I forgot about it." My mom’s secret lover, the man who left the note … was Pastor Greg? Did she give him back his watch when he came to the house to see her?
Now my mind spins with different scenarios of why they didn’t work out and I’m tempted to run inside and read the note on her casket in its entirety. I know that the pastor has been divorced for over a decade, and my mom isn’t the type to be a mistress, but I can’t help but think something scandalous might have happened. Did her cancer keep them apart, his relationship with God? His family?