“My name is Johnny, and Simon was my older brother. There was always an understanding that if anything happened to any of us… Simon… my sister, Presley… or myself, we’d do this. Presley and I have been working on something that means a lot to our family.” He focuses on the casket and hits his chest over his heart. “Brother, we’ll miss you like no other. You were the best.”
My heart lurches in my throat, and I fight the impulse to look at Robbie. His words hit hard.
There’s a collective gasp in the room when Johnny starts the chords to See you Again, by Wiz Khalifia. No words, only the sound of music flows through the church. When Presley starts playing her violin, my heartbeat doubles, and I suck in a deep breath. She’s incredible. Her focus is now completely on her instrument, not looking at anyone, but squeezing her eyes and pouring herself into the music. It’s the most serene and gripping thing I’ve ever seen. Her cheek leans in to rest on the polished wood, and a single tear strays from her eye. My thumb twitches and rubs my palm, aching to brush that tear and the pain away.
The pallbearers lift the casket and start the process of taking Simon to the graveside. The whole time, Johnny and Presley play, giving a tribute to their brother. When the last chords are done, both walk to their family and follow the body.
The little girl from earlier jumps into Presley’s arms and buries her face into her neck. This is obviously Simon’s daughter; she’s a spitting image. The way Presley holds her close then grabs the older man from earlier tells me this is their Dad. He pulls her close, tucking her and the child under his arm, and ushers them out.
We follow to the gravesite, and I have to remind myself…Focus. Direct. Respect.
Once the preacher gives his last prayers and steps back for the family to approach the casket, what I witness next almost brings me to the ground.
Presley leans over the flag-draped coffin and shakes with such force her legs give out. I fight to go to her, but Johnny catches her and takes her back to her chair, holding her close. My hands clench, and my body goes rigid with the overwhelming need to comfort her.
It’s crazy. We don’t know each other, but something burns deep in a way I’ve never felt. Something in me wakes up, wanting to protect her.
My heartbeat speeds when the family gets up and walks to us. I’ve only done this once in my life, and I was a wounded Marine. I went to a funeral with no ties, to a man I didn’t know, as my own way of paying the respect to the men I lost.
But this is different; this family needs to know how important Simon was. There’s a connection here to a woman I’ve met only once, yet she takes my breath away.
Sweat drips heavily down my neck, back, and legs. My breathing comes in pants. I practice every breathing exercise I know to get ready to face her. Easily, I shake her dad and Johnny’s hands. But when she lays her soft hand against mine, my skin tingles.
“Presley.” I breathe her name.
She sucks in a breath and locks eyes with mine. The little girl she’s holding stays gripped around her neck, but looks at me too.
“Finn?” Her voice is so low, it’s barely audible.
“Yes,” I answer softly, aware of Robbie and Max watching us.
“You knew Simon? You’re a Marine?”
“Yes.”
Her face flashes with a look of fear and confusion. We briefly mentioned I was in the service the day at the park, but I didn’t elaborate. My heart starts to race triple time with an uneasy feeling. There are a few seconds of silence where neither of us breaks the stare.
Johnny comes up to her side and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “Sweetie, we need to get through. There’s a lot of people here.” He edges her to the waiting group.
“They can wait a minute.”
He steps back and gives her a look of surprise. Then his eyes drop to her hand still in mine.
She takes it away slowly, scans the three of us, then points at me. “These men knew Simon in the Marines.”
He looks between us with complete appreciation. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot to us.”
I glance at the girl in her arms and see she’s totally confused. She wraps into Presley like a vice and says something resembling, “he’s like daddy.”
“Yes, like your daddy.” Her voice breaks slightly, and a single tear slides down her cheek. Then she forces a smile on her face. “Will you come to the reception? Dad, Johnny, and I would love to talk to you more.”
I can’t find my own words, staring at the beauty of her with the little girl in her arms.
“We’ll be there,” Max answers her and slaps me on the back, jarring me again.
Presley walks away, and we stay in place until the gravesite is almost empty. Then we go to say our own goodbyes.
I’m the last to give a small prayer, and when I turn around, I go still. Our whole group is looking at me with sadness. The only eyes that give me comfort are Ember’s. She gives me a sly grin and tucks her head into Robbie’s chest.