“You know you’re not allowed to see her, Jenny. You know why.”
Jenny pulled the sweatshirt over her head, then stared her mother down. “Rea’s been my best friend since we were in day care together. If you think I’ll abandon her when she needs me the most, you’re wrong.” She walked past her Mom to the door. “Ground me later, I’m going to my friend.”
“COME BACK HERE, JENNY!”
“Sorry, Mom.” She grabbed her keys and jacket and went out to the garage.
When she arrived at Rea’s house, she had to park half a block away. There must have been a dozen cop cars there; State Patrol, Sheriff and Rochester Police all represented. She walked up the driveway, passing the people gathered outside, and walked into the house she hadn’t been in for two and a half years. Taking off her jacket, she saw the crowd around Mrs. Olson in the living room and kept looking for Rea. Her Grandma noticed her and gave her a hug. “She’s in her room,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, meaning more than just about her son-in-law. She got another hug, then ran up the stairs and knocked on the door.
“Go away,” the soft voice said.
“I’m not staying away any more, Rea.” She heard movement and then the door flew open. Rea looked horrible, but Jenny didn’t care. She moved in, hugging her friend tightly, then closed the door so they could grieve in private.
The church was packed to overflowing by the time they arrived.
Rea was numb, still reeling from the loss of her father two days earlier. Dressed in a long-sleeved black dress with matching overcoat, her red hair pinned back, she was first out of the limousine when they arrived. Jenny was next, she had stayed with her the whole time and had kept her from completely losing it a few times already. She leaned on Jenny as they climbed the steps, passing the assembled law enforcement officers who flanked the area between their car and the doorway. She held tight to Jenny’s hand as they walked through the hundreds of officers from Minnesota and a dozen other states that had come to pay their respects. Behind her, Dawn and Grandma were escorted by State Patrol officers in their full-dress uniforms.
Mom hadn’t broken down yet, she was holding it together for her family, but Rea knew how much she was hurting. For over twenty years she had lived with the fear of him not coming home, and when he got Command she thought he would make it. Desk duty instead of constant patrols, much safer. Instead, only a few years before his retirement, he had been taken from her. She paused at the base of the steps, looking at the officers, and nodding her thanks to them before slowly mounting the stairs.
Her mother was last up the steps. She had been the one who held them all together; organizing the house, planning the funeral, making sure the two of them kept going. Her heart broke for her daughter, but inside she was mad at them all. Where were they last week, or the past few years? The friends that wouldn’t stop by, the ones who looked at them with pity, parents who wouldn’t bring their children over because they were afraid of Treasure, but now they were all here like nothing happened. The past few years had taught them who their true friends were, and it was a much smaller group than those who had been in their house this week.
They were escorted to their seats in the front, and a few minutes later the service started. An Honor Guard came first, then the pallbearers brought his casket forward. The casket was closed and covered with the American flag at the front, the damage from the accident too great to allow for a viewing. Instead, two large photographs had been framed and set on easels on each side of the casket; one of her father in his dress uniform, in the official photo for when he took command of the Rochester headquarters, the second with Dawn and a young Treasure at a waterfall on the north shore. Treasure sat quietly crying, her hands holding her mother and her best friend, as the Pastor talked about death and his friends and coworkers talked about his life. She knew well how this went, having been to a few funerals in her life where her father represented his unit.
The eulogies finished and the honor guard and pallbearers came back down the aisle, lifting the casket and starting the procession back out. The ladies were escorted back out by Patrolmen from her father’s command as the bagpipes played and everyone watched them pass. They followed the casket out to the hearse, watching it be loaded before being escorted to their waiting limousine.
The funeral procession was half a mile long, over three hundred police cars with lights flashing, plus friends. They made the short trip to the cemetery, where he was laid to rest with full honors. She jumped a little as the seven patrolmen fired the first of three volleys, then lost it completely when the bugler played Taps. She couldn’t even look up as the Colonel, the head of the Minnesota State Patrol, presented her mother with the folded flag that had covered his coffin.
It took almost an hour for the mourners to file past, each tossing a handful of dirt on the coffin before saying something to her Mom. She had stopped crying and was supporting her Mom, and then it was their turn to say goodbye.
“I love you Dad. I miss you so much,” she said as she looked down at the coffin. “I’ll make you proud of me,” she said as she tossed the handful of frozen dirt on top of it. She hugged her Mom from the side as she said her words, then they were led back to the waiting car.
Their house was full of friends and family when they returned, and food was everywhere. It was late afternoon, the sun was nearing the horizon already, and she just didn’t have the appetite to eat anything or be around all these people. “Hide out in your room?”
She nodded at Jenny and they made their way upstairs. Even in her room, she could still hear them downstairs and she couldn’t stand the pity any more. A common theme was sympathy about how her Mother would now have to deal with her daughter’s ‘issues’ on her own.
Jenny didn’t hear a thing, and for that Rea was thankful. Her amazing hearing ability was more of a curse than a blessing to her in crowds.
Jenny unzipped her dress for her and Rea went to take a shower, eager to get comfortable again. When she came back out, Jenny had changed into sweats from the bag her parents had dropped off for her yesterday, and Rea put on jeans, a shirt and a sweatshirt. She flopped down on her bed and Jenny rolled over and hugged her. “Doing all right?”
“I’ll be all right,” Rea said.
“I’m going to get some food, I’ll bring you some back,” she said. She was out the door before Rea could stop her, but when she returned with a couple plates, her stomach won out. They listened to music and ate the appetizers.
“These venison sausages are the bomb,” Rea said. “I want more, but…”
“You don’t want to spend time there.”