Authors: Marianne Spitzer
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said concerning grandfather … umm … grandpa and Garret.”
Hesitating, she asked, “Why?”
“If Garret and Nancy had something to do with this, I have to know. I have to go see them tonight.”
“Okay,” she said heading for the bedroom, “but wait a minute.” Quickly changing into jeans and a long-sleeve top to keep the mosquitoes away, she grabbed a pair of socks from a drawer and her sneakers from the closet.
Back in the living room, Daniel stared at her with a confused look.
Annamarie answered before he could ask. “You’re not going to see that creep on your own. I’m coming along and please don’t argue with me. I won’t stay here alone.”
They left together, united for the first time in whatever was going on with Garret. Annamarie was ready to battle Daniel’s spirits if need be. Dealing with all the drama this week, and the sheriff’s treatment had changed something in her. Unsure if she had grown up or
discovered a side of her she never knew, she was different. Stronger and more determined Annamarie was ready to stand by Daniel’s side, regardless of what he was going to face.
Arriving at the end of the trail, Daniel and Annamarie walked quietly through the trees until they saw the outbuilding in the meadow. Daniel whistled and heard Garret whistle in reply. Garret and Nancy emerged.
“What’s she doing here?” asked Garret.
“Shut up, creep,” Annamarie said.
“Have you been near the house today?” Daniel asked.
“No.”
Daniel told them about his grandfather.
“I’m so sorry,” said Nancy sounding sincere.
Garret’s only comment was to ask if the house was empty, could they sleep in it.
Daniel had to hold Annamarie back. She was ready to plow into Garret and cause some damage, although she was sure she would’ve
been the one hurt.
“Better not. Someone’s there cleaning tonight and tomorrow before the Memorial Service,” Daniel said. Garret reluctantly agreed.
***
Walking back through the pines, Annamarie said, “Stop and look at the trees in the moonlight. It’s so peaceful and beautiful, not a place anything evil would be.”
“Maybe, but I still believe there are spirits here.”
“If that’s true, then they’re benevolent,” she said trying to comfort whatever fear Daniel might have.
A soft breeze picked up and blew past them with a delightful scent of pine. It stopped almost as soon as it began. Daniel raised his eyebrows, and they hurried back to his Jeep.
Both exhausted, they didn’t talk much on the short drive home. Falling asleep quickly, Annamarie’s prayed her night would be dreamless. That prayer was answered. Waking, they lay in bed for quite some time talking about the day ahead. Neither Daniel nor Annamarie
was ready for another funeral.
***
The thought of seeing an urn holding grandpa’s ashes upset her more than viewing a casket. Annamarie wanted to hide her head under the pillow, and stay in bed all day. Finally, Daniel said they had to get up, offering to let her shower first while he made something to eat.
After breakfast, Daniel dressed in another one of his dark work suits, and Annamarie pulled out the little black dress she was beginning to hate. She decided to pull her hair back and tie it with a scarf. When she looked at her collection, she didn’t have much choice. She pulled out the black one, and then she thought about the black one with a small amount of red trim.
Remembering what grandpa said about the red lily meaning passion when he gave her the wedding bouquet, she chose the one with red because of grandpa’s passion for life. Daniel thought it was an excellent idea.
***
They were a bit early. George and Maureen were already there. Entering the church, Annamarie was reminded of Ben’s funeral. The entire front was awash in color from the numerous plants and floral arrangements. Somewhere in that sea of color were the flowers from Daniel and Annamarie, but this time she had no idea what they were. Her mom had taken care of ordering flowers for them.
What caught and held her eye was a small table covered with white embroidered fabric. The brushed silver urn containing what was left of her beloved grandpa sat on the table. It made her shiver and then begin to shake. By the time she grabbed for Daniel’s arm, her tears were flowing freely, and she was trembling head to toe.
Daniel led her to the front pew, telling her to take deep breaths. He put his arm around her for support whispering, “This week has been too much for you. We should have asked Dr. Norse for pills to help you.”
“No,” she said. “I need to be aware of all of this. I’ll be okay. It was the shock of thinking grandpa’s in
the urn, when the last time I saw him was at his home happy and healthy, or at least I thought he was healthy.”
The deep breaths helped, and by the time George and Maureen joined them, she felt better. A few minutes later, her parents arrived plus several other people she didn’t know.
Mourners began to arrive alone or in twos, threes and more until the church pews were full. Pastor Anders walked out to stand before his congregation. He addressed them and welcomed those who came from other churches or communities.
“We are all the same people now, here to honor the memory of one of Timmus Woods’ finest citizens.”
He spoke of the generosity of Michael Logan, and his willingness to help in whatever need arose at church or in town. He mentioned several projects grandpa had been involved in and how he never hesitated to join a committee when asked.
Pastor Anders said a prayer, the choir sang, and then George stood up to eulogize his father. Fighting back tears, Maureen grabbed Annamarie’s
hand and murmured she was worried about George’s health. Annamarie tried to reassure her that he would be all right.
George began to speak about his father’s dedication to building up their little community. He mentioned his father’s fledgling insurance
firm and the loss of Margaret and the baby. This seemed too much for him. George appeared as if he was going to collapse.
Daniel was at his side in an instant, telling his dad he would continue for him. From the notes his dad handed him, Daniel did his best to remember his grandfather, adding some of his own memories. After Daniel, one of grandpa’s oldest poker buddies spoke, followed by a business associate.
Pastor Anders said a few words of comfort for the grieving family and friends of Michael Logan and closed with a prayer. He mentioned there was a luncheon being served in the church hall for all those interested, and the choir began to sing “Amazing Grace.”
“Not again,” Annamarie whispered fighting back tears, “this hymn rips me apart.”
Daniel heard her and put a supporting arm around her. They let everyone clear the church, and head for the luncheon or home. They walked around a bit, looking at the flowers. Annamarie looked closer at the urn. It was engraved with grandpa’s name and the year of his birth and death.
Maureen and George were still sitting when the tall, thin man in
a black suit and tie approached them.
“I’m Mr. Ranford from the Walker Funeral Home. I’ll be in charge of caring for Mr. Logan’s remains and observing the service at his home.”
“Please have some lunch with us, before we head for father’s home,” said Maureen.
“Thank you kindly, but I must leave to be sure preparations are complete when you arrive. Please take your time. Also, if there are any flowers you would like to have at the graveside service, please point them out. I’ll be sure to bring them along.”
“Thank you,” said Maureen. “I was wondering about flowers.” Looking directly at Annamarie, she said, “Annamarie, would you be a dear and pick out one or two of these lovely floral arrangements for Mr. Ranford?”
“Of course,” she said.
Walking slowly past the arrangements, one caught her eye immediately. Lilies, in various shapes and colors, filled a lovely white wicker basket.
“Please take this one,” she said to Mr. Ranford, and seeing another basket filled with delicate roses in every shade, she said, “Please take these, too.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Mr. Ranford said and bowed slightly.
Returning to Maureen and George, George smiled at her and asked how she knew to pick the roses. Annamarie said she remembered
grandpa telling her a story of how much Margaret loved roses, and thought the lilies and the roses would make them happy, since they were together now.
George hugged her. “You’re the perfect addition to this family.”
Maureen smiled and said, “I agree. Daniel couldn’t have picked a better young woman to be his wife.”
Annamarie had no idea those feelings would soon change.
The four of them went to the church hall to have lunch. Once again she was surprised to see everyone talking and eating, but the food tasted beyond delicious and she was hungry. Daniel ate with abandon.
Noticing George was picking at his meal, Annamarie asked Maureen if he had been eating. He looked pale. Maureen admitted she was worried about him even though he insisted he was okay. She added if he still felt the same way this evening, she would call Dr. Norse and have him stop by. Annamarie assured her if she needed Daniel or her at any time
to, please call. They’d come at once.
Suddenly George stood up facing the people in the hall. He thanked them all for their kindness. He then asked for their understanding, but it was time for him to leave. Pastor Anders walked over to George, had a few words, and handed Maureen a dark blue cloth bag containing cards people had left in the church.
Maureen thanked him and handed Annamarie the bag. “Be a dear and make a list of everyone who gave a card. We can get together this weekend to write thank-you notes.” She hugged Annamarie and followed George out the door.
“What’s in the bag?” Daniel asked.
“Memorial cards from the service.”
“My mom decided to have you take care of them?”
“Yes, I don’t mind.”
“That’s typical mom, avoiding the difficult duties.”
They followed George and Maureen to grandpa’s house.
Chapter Fifteen: The Woods
Annamarie and Daniel parked behind George’s car. A black sedan was parked on the side of the turnaround in front of grandpa’s house.
Daniel said, “It’s probably a car from the funeral home.” He was right.
The smell of coffee wafted out towards them when they entered. Coming from the direction of the kitchen, meant Elaine was still there caring for people the way she had for years.
George and Maureen huddled together in the living room discussing something. He seemed more distraught than he’d been at church.
Daniel asked, “What’s going on? You seem upset?”
“Mr. Townsend is going to be here in about an hour the way father stated in his letter.”
“So soon?”
“I thought he would give us a few days, but father was adamant about his will being read right after the urn burial. I don’t know why it can’t wait. This is almost too much to endure,” George said.
“Maybe grandfather wanted to get everything over at once because he thought it would be easier on us. He did worry about us a lot even if we weren’t aware of it.”
George shrugged and pulled a yellow paper from his pocket. Waving it towards no one in particular, he said, “Telegram from John. I sent him one when father died.”
“Who’s John?” Annamarie whispered.
“Grandfather’s brother,” Daniel whispered back. “He moved to California because of health problems before I was born. Sort of became a recluse. He lives in a rural desert area without a phone.”
Daniel was about to say more when they heard a knock at the front door.
It was Mr. Ranford from the funeral home. Announcing he was ready when they were, George said they’d meet him at the graveside. Closing the door, he motioned for them to follow him when he headed for the back door.
Maureen whispered to Daniel, “Stay close to your father. I’m worried he’s going to collapse.”
Daniel hurried ahead, leaving Annamarie to walk with Maureen.
Maureen asked, “Do you have the cards?”
“Don’t worry. They’re safe in the Jeep.”
“I can’t take much more of this, but you know they always come in threes,” Maureen muttered under her breath.
“What?”
“Deaths, they always come in threes.”
Annamarie thought she’d heard every old wives’ tale from her mom, but this was a new one and it made her shudder.
Before she could say anything, they arrived at the graveside. A small square of wooly, green fabric slightly larger than the urn was sitting over Margaret’s grave several inches from her headstone. Grandpa’s urn sat on a small white metal table next to the grave.