Walter exchanged a look with Leigh. That was a bit on the nose. Dr. Jerry probably had no idea the poet had been a morphine addict most of her life.
“I’ve chosen the old gal’s most popular sonnet, so please feel free to recite along.”
Phil snorted from the other side of Callie’s grave.
Dr. Jerry cleared his throat politely before beginning, “‘How do I love thee? Let me count the ways/I love thee to the depth and breadth and height/My soul can reach …’”
Walter’s arm wrapped around Leigh’s shoulders. He kissed the side of her head through his mask. She was grateful for his warmth. The weather had taken a cold turn. She hadn’t been able to find her coat this morning. She’d been distracted by a long phone call with the man who ran the cemetery because he’d kept gently suggesting that a headstone with rabbits and kittens on it was better suited for a child.
Callie was her child, Leigh had wanted to scream, but she had passed the phone to Walter so that she didn’t reach through the line and rip the man’s head off.
Dr. Jerry continued, “‘I love thee to the level of every day’s/Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light/I love thee freely, as men strive for right.’”
She looked across the open grave at Phil. Her mother was not wearing a mask, though Georgia’s first Covid superspreader event had taken place at a funeral. Phil sat defiantly, legs spread, hands curled into fists. She hadn’t dressed any differently for her youngest daughter’s funeral than she would’ve for a day of collecting rent. Dog collar around her neck. Black Sid Vicious T-shirt because heroin was so awesome. Eye make-up straight out of the rabid raccoon collection.
Leigh looked away before she felt the same anger she always felt around her mother. She stared at the camera that was streaming the funeral. Shockingly, Phil’s mother was still alive and living in a retirement home in Florida. Even more surprising, Cole Bradley had asked to pay his remote respects. He was technically still Leigh’s boss, though she imagined it was only a matter of time before she was called into his office again. The optics were not great, to put it in corporate speak. Leigh’s sister had murdered her client and his new wife, and then overdosed herself, all seemingly without explanation.
Leigh had made it clear that she wasn’t going to provide that explanation and no one else had stepped forward to fill in the giant blank. Not Reggie Paltz, who as predicted had skipped town. Not a friend or neighbor or lawyer or banker or money manager or paid informant.
But someone out there had to know the truth. Andrew’s safe had been wide open the night that Leigh had broken into his house.
It was empty.
She had told herself she was okay with that. The tapes were still in existence. Eventually, someone would go to the police or approach Leigh or—something. However it happened, Leigh would accept the consequences. The only thing she could control was how she lived her life in the meantime.
Dr. Jerry finished , “‘I love thee with a love I seemed to lose/With my lost saints/I love thee with the breath/Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose/I shall but love thee better after death.’”
Walter let out a long sigh. Leigh felt the same. Maybe Dr. Jerry understood more than they thought.
“Thank you.” Dr. Jerry closed the book. He blew Callie a kiss. He walked over to offer Phil his condolences.
Leigh dreaded what her mother would say to the kindly old man.
“You good?” Walter whispered. His eyes were filled with concern. This time last year, she would’ve been annoyed by his hovering, but now, Leigh was overwhelmed with gratitude. Somehow, it was easier to let herself love Walter completely now that he understood what it felt like to be broken.
“I’m okay,” she told him, hoping that saying the words aloud would make it so.
Dr. Jerry was circling back around the grave. “There you are, young lady.”
Walter and Leigh stood up to talk with him.
She said, “Thank you for coming.”
His mask was wet with tears. “Our Calliope was such a lovely girl.”
“Thank you,” Leigh repeated, feeling her own mask stick to her face. Every time she thought she’d run out of tears, more showed up. “She really loved you, Dr. Jerry.”
“Well.” He patted her hand. “Could I tell you a secret that I found out when my dear wife passed away?”
Leigh nodded.
“Your relationship with a person doesn’t end when they die. It only gets stronger.” He winked at her. “Mostly because they’re not there to tell you that you’re wrong.”