Kate’s wake and funeral service were beautiful. Not that a funeral could ever be deemed a thing of beauty, but her family made it memorable. There were flowers inside and outside the church, colorful balloons, teddy bears, and swim-themed stuff placed near the entrance. A photo montage cycled on the video screens as soft religious tunes played over the speakers. Photos and a photo board were also set up next to Kate’s coffin at the front of the room. The turnout was huge, which made me dread my turn at the podium even more.
The pastor spoke first, followed by various relatives and friends. Doc gave a beautiful eulogy. By the time he was done, there was not a single dry eye. My turn arrived too soon.
Taking a deep breath, I walked to the front.
For one brief moment, everything I had rehearsed flew right out of my head as I studied the audience. What had I gotten myself into? I glanced at the cards in my hand. They had talking points, but I couldn’t focus on a single one. Panicking, I glanced at Eirik. He nodded encouragingly. Cora gave me two thumbs up.
As though on cue, Torin entered the church. He leaned against the back wall and crossed his arms. I hadn’t expected him to attend the funeral even though I’d seen Jess and her friends on the bus. As usual, my heart skipped. He smiled, and the weirdest thing happened. I felt a boost of confidence, like I could conquer the world. The smile didn’t just have the ability to make me weak in the knees. It said he believed in me.
Exhaling, I glanced at the top card. “First, I’d like to offer my condolences to the Hunsaker family,” I read. “It’s not easy losing someone you love. Kate and I first met in junior high when we swam for the Kayville Dolphins. Two years later, we both made varsity as freshmen.” I frowned, hating the way my speech sounded stiff and rehearsed.
I flipped the cards upside down and pushed them aside, then focused my attention somewhere above everyone’s heads—the golden rule of public speaking. Or imagining everyone naked, which would be iffy since Kate’s grandparents were seated right in front of me. Without intending to, my eyes locked with Torin’s.
“I had an entire speech rehearsed and written down, but I’ve decided it’s not good enough. Rehearsed speeches are boring, something Kate wasn’t. Kate was full of surprises. She was the glue that held the swim team together even though some of us didn’t know it.” Warming up to the subject and becoming less nervous, I made eye contact with Kate’s grandparents and talked to them. “You see, in any sport, there’s something the teammates do that makes everyone feel special and part of the group, makes new members feel welcome. We give each other nicknames. We put these special names on kickboards and jackets, flippers and trophies. Parents don’t hear anyone scream their daughters’ and sons’ name at meets. Instead you hear Condor and Slinky, Houdini and Sparkplug…”
Chuckles came from the students. I glanced at them.
“These unique names define us out there in the water during meets. What you may not know…” I made eye contact with Kate’s parents then glanced at the section with the swimmers. “What most of us didn’t know was the identity of the person behind these names. The person who listened, observed, and came up with the perfect nickname for each and every one of us.” I paused for effect. “Kate.”
Excited murmurs came from my friends again. Some turned and looked at each other in surprise.
“The coolest thing is there’s always a story behind whatever she picked. My name is Slinky. I wish it’s because I’m fast or smooth under water. My father bought me a slinky toy, which I’d take to meets to calm my nerves when I was with the Dolphins. Kate remembered.” My eyes smarted as thoughts of my father intruded. I swallowed and pushed them aside. I pointed at Marj. “Marj is Zoomer because it took her forever to master the use of her Finis Zoomer fins. Randy over there,” I pointed at another swimmer, “is Stoner. He acts high after practice because chlorine messes with his head.”
Giggles came from the students.
My gaze met with Jimmy Baines. “Jimmy is Condor because he has the perfect form when he swims butterfly, like a condor. Coach Fletcher is Doc because he’s been working on his PhD, like…”
“Forever?” someone yelled from the audience, and laughter followed.
“And Kate was Shelly, because she was quiet and shy until she was in the pool. Then she crawled out of her shell and shined like the star she was. I can list more things that made Kate special. From setting records in her freshman year to how she was always the first one in the pool and the last one out, but it won’t take away the pain of losing her, of knowing…” My voice shook, and tears filled my eyes, thoughts of my father returning and blindsiding me. I cleared my throat and blinked rapidly to stop the tears from falling. “The heartache of knowing that someone you love has been taken from you so suddenly, that you’ll never see him… her…”
More images of my father flashed through my head, and the floodgate opened. The harder I tried to stop crying, the faster the tears flowed. Through the haze, I saw two people move toward the stage. The next minute Eirik and Cora flanked me.
While Eirik finished my speech, Cora led me outside to the church’s stoop. She held me while I cried. She mumbled something over and over, but I didn’t hear her. The tears kept flowing. Kate’s parents had no idea how lucky they were to have closure. Not knowing whether my father was alive or dead just made everything worse.
A second thought crept in. I’d broken down in front of everyone. That was beyond humiliating. The thought of riding the bus to the cemetery then to school with them only made me feel worse.
“I wish we could leave before the others come out,” I whispered.
“I can give you a ride home,” Torin said from behind me.
I wasn’t sure I should. “We still have to go to the cemetery.”
“Go with him, Raine,” Cora urged. “Everyone will understand.”
I hugged Cora and started toward Torin’s bike. We didn’t speak during the brief walk. He wiped some of the wetness from my cheeks before snapping the helmet into place, his expression filled with concern. More tears threatened to fall. I hated it when people pitied me. It was as though their pity made things seem worse.
Needing his warmth, I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes, for once not stressing about holding him. As though he knew it, he gripped my hands before starting the engine. When we got home, he walked me to the door, his hand reassuring on my arm.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said.
“Anytime. If you want to talk, I’m a good listener,” he said softly.
I did want to talk. “Okay. Come inside.”
Mom was gone, but she’d left the TV on. I switched it off, removed my coat, and draped it on the back of a dining room chair. I glanced at Torin. “Would you like something to drink?”
He shook his head and waited until I got bottled water and sat on a stool before he did, his eyes not leaving me. “I wish you wouldn’t stare at me like that,” I whispered.
“Sorry.” He still didn’t look away. “You miss him, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Your father.”
I blinked. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Something you said in your speech. The tears and the pain I see in your eyes are more personal.”
I stared at him, amazed at how well he could read me.
“Tell me about him.”
I remembered what he’d said last night about knowing those he recruited. “But you already know about him.”
“All I know is that he was flying home from a business trip when his plane crashed. It’s been months, and they still haven’t found his body.”
“The last time we spoke, he was at the airport,” I started, but soon I was talking about my childhood, the things we used to do, places we went as a family, the way he was always there for me. I talked until my voice was hoarse. “Mom believes he’s alive,” I whispered. “But I’m scared she’s deluding herself, maybe losing it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“
She talks to herself. I mean, she stands in front of that,” I waved toward the living room mirror, “and pretends she’s talking to him. I can’t afford to lose her, too. She’s all I have.” I didn’t realize I was crying until Torin reached out and wiped the tears from my cheeks. I swiped at my cheeks, too. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually break down like this.”
“Don’t apologize.” He tugged me into his arm. “Cry all you want. I’m here for you for as long as you want me.”
Needing the comfort, I clung to him. I was surprised I had tears left. When he leaned back and ran his knuckles along my cheekbones, drying the wetness, his touch was so gentle. My heart picked up tempo, and I struggled to breathe.
“Freckles,” he said softly, his voice low and urgent. “Look at me.”
I looked up and immediately wished I hadn’t. Blue flamed flickered in the depth of his eyes, their intensity taking my breath away.
“You feel it, don’t you?” he said. “This thing between us.”
‘Thing’ didn’t begin to describe how I felt about him. He was an obsession, a craving. I had Eirik whom I’d loved since we were children, and that wasn’t about to change. But Torin affected me in ways I couldn’t begin to describe. I was miserable without him, yet when with him my emotions were all over the place. He made me mad one minute and euphoric the next.
“I, uh, I need to wash up.” I moved out of his arms and went to the downstairs bathroom. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror without feeling like a fraud. How could I love Eirik and want Torin? It didn’t make sense.
Taking a deep breath, I left the bathroom. Torin stood in front of the mirror in the living room, the same one Mom often talked to. He turned and smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
He closed the gap between us. “Could you do me a favor?”
I nodded warily. “Sure.”
“Give your mother the benefit of the doubt when it comes to your father.”
“What do you mean? Do you know something you’re not telling me?”
“True love transcends logic, Freckles. It’s a blending of minds and souls.” He stared into my eyes, and at that moment I knew he could see right through my bullshit to what I really felt for him. “It makes us feel and see things in ways that normal people don’t. You don’t question it or try to understand it. You just accept it for the gift it is. So if she believes he’s still alive, give her the benefit of the doubt.”
“Okay.”
“Good. I, uh, better go. I have guests.” He ran his knuckles along the side of my face then headed out the door.
I ran to the window, expecting to see Jess and her friends. Instead, a furniture truck was backing into his driveway. Cora and Eirik arrived while the people were still carrying huge boxes into Torin’s house.
“You okay?” Eirik asked. I nodded, but we didn’t discuss my breakdown. “Come on. I’ll buy you two ladies lunch,” he said, placing one arm around Cora’s shoulder and the other around me.
“Does that mean you’re going shopping with us, too?” Cora asked.
Eirik laughed. “In your dreams.”