The Opposite of Love

Ch 28

It wasn't that bad, really, for a funeral. Dad was right on time, and I was actually ready for him, waiting in a simple black dress and heels, and I even had time to slightly curl the ends of my hair. He drove to the funeral home in relative silence, which I was grateful for. No talking meant no lying.

We weren't the first ones there, and we definitely weren't the last. The place soon filled up with friends and relatives, many of whom I nor Laura hadn't seen since we were babies. But I still managed to get through all of the condolences.

The hardest one, though, was Mike. In fact, it was the only time I shed a tear during the whole thing. He told us that he was sorry for our loss, but his loss was just as severe as ours. He saw her almost all day every day for the past couple years. We only saw her once a week at most towards the end. I gave into the funeral expectations and wrapped Mike in a hug, letting a single tear slide down my face. But then I was back to my usual self.

Dad and Mike and I sat up front for the whole thing, but I would have preferred the back. It would have offered a good view of the rest of the guests while simultaneously shielding me from their eyes. Up front, even if it was just the back of my head, I could feel people staring at me through the whole service. Not in a creepy way, but it was unnerving nonetheless.

The eulogy was given by Mike, and it was beautiful. He managed to sum Laura's life up into a few minutes without making it seem the least bit shortened. He glazed over the parts of her life she didn't like and put special emphasis on the parts she was proud of. He made her out to be fun, caring, loving, and nearly perfect. In short, he knew her well.

When it got to the part of the service where people get up and share their stories about her, I couldn't think of a single story to tell. I was her sister. How could I not have a single story? Nothing cute, or funny, or endearing, or anything at all. I had nothing. So I stayed silent.

The rest if the service was rather uneventful. It was afterward when things got interesting.

Dad and I were walking outside, standing under a black umbrella, headed to his car and eventually the cemetery for the burial part of the funeral. We were leading the way for everyone, so all eyes were once again on us. And, of course, this had to be the moment things go bad.

I saw him out of the corner of my eye. He was standing under an identical umbrella on the sidewalk in front of Dad's car, shifting his weight back and forth, just waiting. He looked tense and incredibly uncomfortable. And he was looking right at me.

Before I could do anything, I felt Dad tense up next to me. He had seen as well. And there was no telling what he would do.

Ignoring the rain that immediately flattened my curls when I stepped out of the shelter of the umbrella, I picked up my pace so I could leave enough of a distance between Dad and I that I could get a few words in before he caught up.

"I thought I told you not to come, Charlie," I said in a harsh whisper.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but—"

"Charlie," Dad said bitterly, joining us much faster than I had hoped, sheltering me once again with his umbrella. "This is for family and friends. You aren't welcome."

"Dad, he's just—"

"Are you defending him?" His attention snapped to me.

"No, I was just..." What was I doing?

He gave me a look, but turned back to Charlie. "You crash a funeral, of all things, and you couldn't even put on something nicer than that?" He gestured to Charlie's deputy uniform.