Forever and Always

Chapter Six {Part 2}

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We arrive at church around eight fifteen, and Jackson heads into the sanctuary. The rest of us split, wandering off through the church in different directions.

I end up on a couch, staring at the carpet. Donavan sits next to me, but I don't move. "How are you holding up?" he asks softly.

I shrug. "I've been better."

He sighs and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "I think we all have. Don't worry, we'll be home in a few hours."

"Yeah, with enough flowers to open a shop," Luke says, shaking his head. "I didn't expect to hear from so many people."

"I guess that comes with the life," I say. "A lot of people cared about Kennedy."

"And still do, from the looks of it." Donavan drums his fingers against his leg, one of his nervous ticks. "Do you think everyone from the visitation will be here?"

"Good God I hope not," Luke says, grimacing. "We'll be here all day."

"Don't complain," I say, grinning wickedly.

"Right." Luke returns the smile and reaches over to ruffle my hair. I bat his hand away, but I don't really mind.

A little after eight, I follow Donavan and Luke through the double doors and over to Jackson. He's standing in the front row, straightening his jacket cuffs and looking around. He strides toward us with a look of mild impatience. "Have you seen the others?"

The doors swing open behind us, and the band boys appear, Fletcher leading the pack. "Speak of the devil," Luke murmurs as they join us.

"Sorry, we got lost in the basement," Fletcher apologizes. "They did a nice job with the remodel."

Jackson gives him a curt nod as the funeral director leads us to the front row. I can't remember if this is how things went when my parents died, but it does feel vaguely familiar.

"Oldest to youngest," Jackson directs, just as we sit down.

My heart sinks. Oldest to youngest? There's nothing wrong with Fletcher, but I'd rather sit next to Jackson or Donavan, or even Dylan.

Within a few minutes, the rest of the family has taken their seats. Shawn is behind us with the rest of our cousins, and Ryder, Eli, and Ethan are next to him. Jackson said they're as much a part of our family as anyone else.

It's not long before people come flooding in, many of them celebrities. This is the first and last time I'll see a lot of these people in church, I realize.

Finally, everyone is seated, and the service can begin. Pastor Ford steps onstage and clears his throat. "Let's open with a word of prayer."

We bow our heads, but I keep my eyes open as he prays, "Lord Jesus, thank you for the time we had with Kennedy Hamilton. Thank you for her wonderful family who is here today to honor her legacy and carry her memory with them. I pray that you would bring them peace and strength in this time and let them know you are there. Surround them with your love and kindness and continue to bless them. In your name we pray, Amen."

The church worship team starts playing "What A Beautiful Name" but I'm too numb to sing. I stand there, listening to the words. I wish I could feel something. But it's just. . . empty.

When the song is over, Pastor Ford reads the obituary. The eulogy is next, but I barely hear it. I'm lost in a world of my own, memories flooding back to me as Pastor Ford talks.

I snap to attention when I see Ellie and our friend, Grace, walking onstage. My eyes follow their movement as they stop at the mic. "We knew Kennedy from church and school," Grace begins. "She and Savannah were two of our best friends. Those two were always coming up with these crazy ideas of pranks we could pull on the guys, like when we dyed Dylan's hair pink or TPd Jackson's room." Laughter ripples through the room, and I smile at the memory. "No matter how much trouble she got into for her pranks, she didn't care. Kennedy did it to have fun. To enjoy her life."