“Wow, it’s been so long!” She raked her fingers through her long brown hair. “It feels weird. This is supposed to be a somber thing, but I’ve been feeling excited all day to see you.”
Call me an asshole, I hadn’t thought of Hannah once in fifteen years. “Pop Pop would want us to be happy.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “It’s good to see you, Hannah.”
Next to her, a man turned and looked at me with a smile. He had blond hair that had been pulled back into a bun and had a goatee that had been shaved down, likely for the occasion. He nodded at me, and Hannah put her hand on his knee.
“This is my husband, Eddie.” She smiled at him, holding out a hand toward me. “This is my cousin, technically my second cousin, Willow.”
Eddie stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Willow. I’ve heard great things.”
I took Eddie’s hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, as well.”
Hannah looked at me. “Where’s your boyfriend?” She clasped her hands over her mouth. “Or are you two married now?”
“Um,” my eyes darted over to where Alessandro was sitting and then back to Hannah. “What?”
“I know that Pop Pop hadn’t been well for a while, but the last time I spoke to him, he told me that you had a boyfriend that you were crazy about. He said that he would for sure be part of the family one day.”
My grandfather suffered from dementia near the end of his life. It wasn’t shocking to hear that he’d clung to the last few memories he had of me before he passed on. I had seen him one last time before I left for college, but it was before I went to see Alessandro, resulting in our breakup. I didn’t double back to tell my poor, elderly grandfather that I’d broken up with the only one of my friends he’d ever actually liked. In truth, I was too heartbroken at the time and couldn’t have faced it regardless.
“We’re not together anymore.”
Hannah’s face went downtrodden. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.” I glanced over at Alessandro again. “Me too.”
The pastor officiating my grandfather’s funeral made his way up onto the stage. He cleared his throat, and the murmur in the chapel hushed. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” the people lining the pews responded.
“We are here to celebrate the life of Alder Celestino Morietti, a legendary man in body, and a walking summer’s day in spirit.” There were varying sounds of affirmations. “Just before Alder saw his final day…”
I did my best to check out as the pastor went on. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about the words he had to say, but I hated showing emotions in any situation. I’d already bawled over dinner with Ricky the night before and didn’t want to do too much more than that. They’d talked me into sa
ying a few words about my grandfather, so I focused my energy on preparing myself for that. At one point, Hannah reached over and took my hand in hers and held on tightly. I smiled at her, deciding to be amicable, but I desperately wanted to pull my hand away. Call it not wanting to show weakness, call it not appreciating an emotional connection to someone else, I didn’t enjoy being doted on.
Soon enough, Ricky was up on stage, sobbing his way through a touching eulogy to Pop Pop, complete with pictures and heartwarming stories. There weren’t many remaining dry eyes as he got to the end of his speech and turned his gaze to me.
“I know we probably can’t take much more time, but there were few people Pop Pop loved more than my beautiful sister, Willow, and she has a few things she would like to say as well.”
Hannah squeezed my hand and mouthed good luck at me, then let go. I took a massive breath in and held it as I stood up, scooted my way out of the pew, and walked up onto the raised stage. I stood in front of the pulpit. Apart from the miscellaneous sniffles and huffs of people trying to quell their emotions, the chapel was totally quiet, and all eyes were on me. I let out the breath I had been holding, and as Ricky attempted to climb off the stage, I reached out and grabbed his wrist and held him in place. He returned to standing right next to me and put his hand on my back.
“Um.” I felt like I was going to throw up. “I’m not much of a public speaker.” Everyone looking back at me offered a light chuckle, even though I was being dead serious. “When I was thirteen, I lost my dad.” I knew there were people associated with the Varassos and even two of the brothers in the crowd, so I didn’t go into detail. “When I needed someone to come around and give me the confidence to face my first day of high school, I called my grandfather. When someone had to come around and threaten my first boyfriend to be good to me or else, I called my grandfather.”
My eyes betrayed my intentions and landed on Alessandro, remembering the lanky, overconfident teenage boy cowering beneath my grandfather’s stern gaze before leaving for our first date. Alessandro gave me a warm smile, and it broke my heart all over again. I shifted my gaze away from him without giving a smile in return. I was stumbling already, barely managing to stay on the tightrope I was walking.
“He was unlike any man that I’d ever met in my life or any man I anticipate I ever will meet. He taught Ricky and me how to be people that the world would enjoy, and even though he’s gone now, he will always be with us.”
I could feel emotions starting to well up in my throat and burn at my nose, so I stepped back from the microphone. Ricky patted my back as we climbed off the stage, and then I made my way back toward where I had been sitting next to Hannah. As I walked, I passed my mother, who reached out a hand. I looked at it and then at her. I wouldn’t say my mom and I were on good terms. She believed that the decision my father made was a good one, and had graciously accepted the Varasso’s hush money since then. That notwithstanding, everyone was looking at us, waiting for an emotional connection between a mother and daughter during a relative’s funeral. I reached out and grabbed her hand, and she smiled at me and kissed the back of my hand. I nodded at her, gently pulled my hand from hers, and scuttled back over to my seat. I sat down and slunk as low as I could in the pew. When is this going to be over?
When the service ended, I slyly slid outside and called myself a rideshare to get from the chapel to my grandmother’s estate for the visitation. I didn’t want to have to deal with this experience anymore, but my grandmother was older than grandfather and was exhausted from her grief and putting together the funeral, so I was committed to keeping my promise to mingle and keep the visitation afloat with Ricky’s help.
I was standing at the door, welcoming people in when Ricky’s truck pulled up, and he climbed out along with Gabriel and Alessandro. I despised how good Alessandro looked. He was wearing a crisp black suit and had his hair grease-slicked back over his head as opposed to the curly-all-over way he typically wore it. His eyes landed on me instantly, and even though I didn’t want to bear my neck, I had no choice. I turned my back to him and threaded into the sea of visitors, hoping to lose myself inside of the throng.
I spent the next hour playing the weirdest game of chess I’d ever engaged in. I was trying to avoid my more talkative family members while staying away from Alessandro at the same time, also while trying to make sure my grandmother was doing okay. I talked to more people in an hour than I had spoken to willingly within the past ten years. I sat and smiled through tales of my youth that I didn’t recognize interspersed with stories of who my grandfather was before he was my Pop Pop. I had to do stuff I’d never considered doing, like keeping track of hors d’oeuvres and thanking people whose first names I didn’t even know for coming and showing my family kindness. I watched my mom’s eyes get progressively wider each time someone handed my grandmother a check, knowing that she was next in line for their estate, and it disgusted me the way she was emanating one down, one to go.
“You know I’m not gonna let her do that, right?” I looked up from my cucumber and turkey bite and saw Ricky standing next to me with a beer in his hand. “Mom with grandma.”
I’d been avoiding Ricky as a result of trying to stay away from Alessandro and didn’t realize how nice he looked. He, too, was in a suit, but a dark blue, pinstripe suit with a gray shirt under it and a matching pocket square. His hair was typical, messy, and hanging around his head despite the patchy presence of grease being a clue of his attempt to do something nice with it. It was oddly comforting for a bit of his usual self to be peeking through his formal facade. Even throughout the years and dealing with the Varassos, he managed to hang onto himself.