PART II
CHAPTER 8
Devin checked his watch. Two minutes later than the last time he’d looked. Ten minutes until the viewing ended. The hushed sound of feet brushing across carpet somewhere behind them turned his head. His sister didn’t budge, her eyes locked on a point somewhere above their mother’s closed coffin. Same expression for the last hour and fifty minutes. Indifferent. Dad pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and sighed, turning to Devin for any sign it may be a guest paying their last respects. He didn’t have it in him to look for himself and be disappointed. They’d had one visitor, an old friend and almost girlfriend of Devin’s, who’d sat behind them for ten minutes before heading out.
The funeral home director, a tall, long-faced elderly gentleman whom Devin remembered from every wake and funeral he’d attended here, going back decades, paused by the guest book located on a small table just inside the room and gave it a quick look. He glanced in Devin’s direction and nodded almost imperceptibly before stepping out of the room.
Kari had been right. The whole thing should have been a quick graveside memorial service. Fifteen minutes at the cemetery—just the three of them and a minister. They hadn’t expected anyone to show up, not after the grisly details of Helen’s rampage made the news. But attendance hadn’t been the point.
Their dad had insisted Helen get a full memorial, regardless of the circumstances. A wake, funeral service, and interment. At first Devin had resisted, firmly in his sister’s camp, but he eventually relented. Mom deserved to be recognized for her entire life’s accomplishments, not the tragic consequences of the treacherous illness that had so unfairly twisted her mind. He still remembered the good times. They were pretty vague as an adult, but the picture books at the house had brought it all back. Honoring the Helen Gray they had all once known was the point.
She’d been a wonderful, loving mother for more than half of his life. She had traveled frequently for the CIA, but she had always been vibrant and entirely present for them when she was home. Then something had changed. In 2004, Devin had spent fall break at home, during his freshman year at Maryland, and things had been different. Mom had been unusually distant. Dad had tiptoed around her. Kari wouldn’t talk to either of them.
Her situation had worsened every year after that, Mom managing to pull it together for big occasions, like his college graduation. Sometimes she’d go a few months seeming entirely better—but she wasn’t. She’d fall even deeper into the hole that had swallowed her, vanishing for weeks or longer. After his parents had separated, she’d disappeared for months. There was no point to dwelling on this any longer. She was gone. It was time to let it go.
His dad cracked his knuckles and stood up. “I think that’s it. I’m going to pay my last respects. I’ll talk to the funeral director on the way out. We’ll skip right to the graveside memorial and be done with it. Sorry to put you through this.”
Kari took his hand and hugged him. “It was the right thing to do. Sorry for being a pain about it.”
Something caught his dad’s eye, and he craned his head above her shoulder to get a better view. Devin followed his gaze to the viewing room’s entrance. An older man in a black suit, with an unkempt beard, stood in the doorway—appearing hesitant to enter. Minus the deep tan, he looked like a Hasidic Jew who had misplaced his hat. His dad patted Kari’s back.
“Looks like we have a visitor,” he said, letting go of Kari. “Karl?”
The man stepped inside and smiled somberly. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me after all the years. And the beard.”
“I might not have been able to pick you out of a crowd,” said his dad, glancing around the room. “But as you can see.”
They met halfway across the room and shook hands, while Devin and Kari stayed behind.
“Do you recognize him?” asked Devin.
“Not at all,” said Kari. “Are you gonna see Marnie later?”
“What?”
“Marnie Young. The hot fighter pilot friend of yours that stopped in,” said Kari. “The only other person that stopped by tonight? She gave you her number.”
“I know who you’re talking about,” said Devin. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Well. Whenever it’s time, you should look her up,” said Kari.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” said Devin before nodding toward his dad. “Here they come.”