“Some, but not all of them.”
Kate began to read cards aloud. “Raintree Bakery. W.G. Hall Jewelers. The Swiss Cork. Tangled Yarn.” There was something from nearly every store in Lachlan.
Jack went to an enormous arrangement of white lilies. “It’s from a place I’ve never heard of—Medlar Realty.” He looked at Kate. “Something you haven’t told us?”
Kate smiled. Alastair must have sent those. “Just an inside joke.”
“The Great White Hunter goes after his prey,” Jack mumbled and walked away, his crutches sinking into the soft ground.
At nine forty, people began to arrive. By nine fifty, there was a crowd, a couple hundred, at least. They lined up to speak to Jack or Kate or Sara, saying, “Tayla called me,” or “Alastair Stewart invited me. Hope that was all right.”
Kate couldn’t keep from giving Jack an “I told you so” look.
At ten after ten, the service began. There were two pastors and they each said a few words. They weren’t the usual bland, generic words, but personal, thoughtful comments about the two women. Sara had made sure the ministers were informed.
Cheryl’s hope for the future was spoken of. Verna’s deep, unwavering love for her daughter was emphasized.
The ministers finished and stepped to the side. Out of the crowd came six young women, as thin as wraiths, with long, silky hair and black dresses. Three had violins and the others were standing in silence.
“Where is the sound equipment?” Kate whispered to Sara, but she didn’t reply.
The people at the front of the crowd were quietly waiting, but in the background, children were getting restless and noisy. Parents did their best to hush them, but it wasn’t working.
Jack walked in front of the young women and leaned his crutches against a chair. His clean-shaven face made her think of the little boy she’d seen laughing in the videos with Cheryl. She gave him an encouraging smile but he didn’t seem to see her.
He nodded toward the violinists and they began the beautiful, mournful song of “Ave Maria.” Beside them, the other girls began a slow chorus. Their voices were so soft, so low, Kate doubted if they could be heard more than a few feet back. Why, oh, why hadn’t someone told her of this? She could have arranged for microphones and speakers.
Jack took a breath and began to sing.
His voice was clear and beautiful—and rich. Loud. The sound, the vibrations, got everyone’s attention. Children stopped playing and listened.
The song had a sad feeling to it, but Jack’s voice was liquid tears. Cheryl and her mother, Evan and Henry—the man he’d loved as his true father—were all there. The notes cried for them as they came directly from Jack’s heart.
Ave Maria, gratia plena. Hail Mary, full of grace.
Dominus tecum. The lord is with thee.
Kate reached out and took Sara’s hand, and she covered it with her other one.
They were both crying. So much love given; so much love lost.
Benedicta tu in mulieribus. Blessed art thou among women.
Around them the other guests had stopped moving. Jack’s sweet, strong tenor voice encased them and pulled feelings from inside them that they’d tried to bury.
Mothers, fathers, children, lovers, friends. All the grief that was hidden deep inside them was being drawn to the surface.
Ora pro nobis. Pray for us.
Kate saw tears on Jack’s face and he closed his eyes, looking only at the memories within him. A young girl, so full of hope and life, had had it all taken from her.
Ora, ora pro nobis pecatoribus. Pray, pray for us sinners.
Nunc et in hora mortis. Now and at the hour of death.
Et in hora mortis nostrae. And in the hour of our death.
And in the hour of our death.