Seconds to Live(46)
“Some people aren’t cut out for family life,” Mac said. “The Colonel was one of them. He didn’t do it to be mean. I think he honestly thought he was doing us a favor by toughening us up.”
“He suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and depression,” Grant said. “But he was old school. Military men of his era didn’t address mental health issues. They soldiered on.”
Their father’s depression had been so deep and dark that it had sucked up all the light in their home.
“I’m glad he’s finally at peace,” Hannah lowered her arm and crossed to the desk to pluck a tissue from its box. She wiped her eyes, crumpled the tissue, and tossed it into the trashcan. “What do we need to do? I assume he clearly spelled out his burial wishes.”
“You know it.” Grant smiled. He moved behind his desk and picked up a yellow envelope marked “Do not open until death” in their father’s shaky scrawl. “I thought he wanted to be buried in the National Cemetery, but he updated his will after Mom died. He wanted to be with her.”
Mac’s eyes and throat burned. They’d buried Lee near their mom, too.
Grant cleared his throat. “He’ll have a military honor guard ceremony, of course. And the chaplain from the base agreed to drive up. I’ll take care of the details. Hannah, I’ll leave the rest of the will in your hands.”
She nodded. “I’ll do whatever you need.”
“If it’s OK with you both, we’ll have a reception here after the service,” Grant said. “Ellie and her grandmother have that under control. Do either of you want to say anything at the service?”
“No,” Mac and Hannah said in unison.
Grant nodded. “Then you want me to give the eulogy?”
“Definitely.” Mac didn’t even know how he felt about his father or his father’s death. There was no way he was ready to speak about the topic to a hundred people.
“Yes.” Hannah agreed. “And thanks. I don’t know if I could sort out my thoughts enough to be coherent.”
“Let me know if either of you change your mind,” Grant said.
“What can I do?” Mac asked.
“Well,” Grant said. “Carson wants to attend the funeral.”
The kid could have Mac’s chair.
“Since I’ll be speaking,” Grant continued. “I’ll need you two to stick close to Carson. The service is bound to remind him of Lee and Kate’s deaths. I don’t know how he’ll handle it. He might want to leave in the middle.”
Mac suspected he might want to leave in the middle. “Whatever he wants.”
A small knock sounded on the door. “Uncle Grant?”
“Come on in, Carson,” Grant called out. “The door’s not locked.”
Carson slipped in. He was clean, his hair damp, and he smelled like soap. His pale blue pajamas were covered in tiny red race cars. He walked up to the closet and stared up at the uniform. “Is that Grandpa’s?”
Grant lifted him into his arms. “It is. See the eagle? That means he was a colonel.”
Carson turned his head to the Colonel’s uniform. “Grandpa had a lot of ribbons.” He reached toward them, then pulled his hand away.
“It’s OK, Carson. You can touch them.” Grant moved the boy closer.
Carson traced the ribbons on the chest of the uniform then dropped his hand. “Can I see yours, too?”
“Sure you can.” Grant lowered him to the floor. “I’ll be getting it out tonight.”
“I had fun today.” Carson walked to Mac and leaned on his thigh. “Can you come over and play tomorrow?”
“Maybe.” Mac rubbed Carson’s head.
“Uncle Grant says Grandpa is going to be with Daddy and Mommy now,” Carson blurted out. “Is that right?”
Eyes blurring, Mac squatted to the boy’s level. “You bet. He’s with Grandma, too.”
Carson nodded, then rested his head on Mac’s shoulder. “I miss them.”
“We all do.” Mac’s throat constricted until it felt as if a noose was wrapped around it, choking him.
Carson lifted his head and turned his face toward Grant. “Can I have ice cream after dinner?”
Grant laughed. “Definitely. Ellie bought your favorite.”
“Cookies and cream?” Carson’s eyes brightened. “Awesome.”
He squirmed away from Mac and bolted for the door. “I forgot. Ellie said to tell you dinner was ready. Nan made macaroni and cheese.”
“Then we’d better go eat.” Grant followed Carson. “We can’t let macaroni and cheese get cold.”