Nobody's Sorry You're Dead

2

Her fingers twitched, and she fumbled with the key. She dropped it on the floorboard as she tried to jab it into the ignition. Already, her breath was coming in short, uneven gasps, and the tears were flowing down her cheeks in steady streams.

She raced to town, slamming the gearshift into park, and jerked open the car door.

Bill, her brother-in-law and the sheriff of Hope Rock County, was standing beside Harry's sedan. It rested in the middle of the intersection, blocking traffic, just across from Brinkley's Garage. They had yet to tow it away.

One look in Bill's eyes told Hadley the one thing she never wanted to know.

She always joked with Harry that she'd go before he ever did.

"I won't be cold in the ground, Harry Pell, and you'll be hitched to the first good cook and house cleaner who winks at you."

"Aw, honey," Harry would answer, "you know I'll hold out for one that sings."

Hadley chuckled, knowing Harry would be a prime catch in Hope Rock County. Or any other county, for that matter. All he'd have to do would be to stand across the street from Lou Edna's, and he'd find any number of single ladies lined up to reel him in.

But Harry was gone, and Hadley had not even had a chance to say good-bye.

On the morning that forever changed her life, the alarm failed to go off. Onus had decided to have a ticker tape parade with the toilet paper on the dispenser. Harry was already running late. Nevertheless, he stopped to clean up the mess so Hadley would not have to face it when she got up.

There was a hole in his sock, and his favorite tie had a spot on it. But that was all right. He'd remember to keep both his blazer and his shoes on all day at work.

Harry threw on his suit jacket and grabbed his briefcase and bolted out the door. He had not taken the time to rouse Hadley, who lay snoozing soundly with her head mashed halfway under her feather pillow. Harry rushed out the door. He cranked the car and backed out into the sleepy lane. He smiled as he remembered how beautiful Hadley looked as she slumbered in their bed. He couldn't help but think he was a lucky guy.

Hadley only hoped he'd kissed her on the forehead before he left.

She wanted to think she had some remnant of his touch lingering on her skin.

Harry. Harry. Harry. How will I go on? How will I face the world without my better half?

"He was gone when I got here, Hadley," Bill said. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am."

Hadley's brain was screaming inside her skull.

This cannot be! This is not happening!

A hundred thousand denials bombarded her mind at once. Her heart felt like gravy in her chest. She knew that this was it. She would never be the same. Her old life was gone.

Did you know I love you?

Were you wearing clean underwear?

Should I pin a white rose to your lapel?

Will they let me bury you in your stocking feet?

Don't they know that black is my worst color?

A hundred silly things, a thousand important things, and all of them tangling up in a knot inside her chest. She wanted to crawl right under a dark rock and never come out.

"Doc said he went quick. Didn't suffer," Bill said.

"Was he in the car when it happened?" Hadley managed to ask.

Why did she want to know? Why did she have to know? The details would only rip her to shreds. As if her heart wasn't shredded enough.

But knowing would be better than guessing.

She forced her mind to slow down, to pay attention to what Bill was telling her. The words pelted her like boulders, but she stood there processing them. And she felt very small and very numb and very helpless.

"He was sitting at the stop light. Lights cycled through twice before the car behind Harry honked. When that got no response, the driver got out of the car and found him just sitting behind the wheel. He looked like he was taking a nap. Like I said, Hadley, Doc said Harry went fast."

"Thanks, Bill," Hadley noted, her voice strangely hoarse. It was almost as if she, and not her brain, had been screaming.

The funeral was a blur. She'd had the service at Foley's. Foley's had served Hope Rock County for decades. The funeral home was the original Foley family homestead. The family had added to it, renovating it over the years. The stately funeral home was one of the biggest structures in town. It boasted four white columns outside the front porch, three wide wooden benches, and several potted geraniums.

She and Harry had discussed funeral arrangements in the past. She had a general idea of what her husband wanted. Still, it was an ordeal she had to endure.

So many faces. So many hands to shake, hugs to give, and tears to shed. Someone was by her side constantly. Then, the long drive back home from the cemetery to her house.

The limousine was luxurious, but it might have been a buckboard wagon for all Hadley cared. She sat in the center of the back seat, her hands daintily folded in her lap. Her gray hair was immaculate, but the makeup failed to hide the pain in her eyes.

Alfred, the driver from the funeral home, helped her out of the car and up to her front steps. He was kind. Everyone had been kind.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Alfred asked.

Hadley slowly shook her head.

"No, thank you. It was a lovely service," Hadley said. "Harry would have been pleased."

"I'm glad, ma'am," Alfred said. "It was. Beautiful, I mean. We are sure going to miss Mr. Pell. Well, if you don't need anything else, I guess I'll go."

"I'm fine," Hadley said. "Thanks, again."

She stepped inside and closed the front door. Hadley kicked off her sensible Sunday shoes and walked in her stocking feet into the kitchen. Her counters were weighed down with casseroles, fried chicken, desserts, and enough food to host the church homecoming. All this bounty for one person.

Hadley sighed.

And then, the loneliness set in.