While everyone walked to the SUV, Bowie looked to the sky. The rain had turned to a light drizzle, the sun was working hard to penetrate through the clouds, and there, in the distance, he thought he saw the faint colors of a rainbow.
“Do you see it?” Brystol asked, pointing to the sky.
“I do.”
“Nonnie never liked the rain, so I guess this is her way of making sure her day is even more special.”
Bowie stared at his daughter in awe. She was something else. The entire drive to the church, he watched her in the rearview mirror as she stared out the window. He figured she was looking for the end of that rainbow.
Unlike the last time they had attended a funeral together, for Carly’s, they were some of the first to arrive. There weren’t any news cameras there to follow their every move, the school buses weren’t being used to transport people who had to park miles away in order to attend, and there wasn’t a line of mourners waiting for Austin’s family to arrive so they could tell his mother how sorry they were. Carly’s passing had less fanfare and would be more private.
Bowie kept his hand on Brooklyn’s lower back while she held Brystol’s hand and met Simone near her car. She carried the urn that contained Carly’s ashes. Bowie’s parents were already there, and Linda waited briefly on the steps leading to the church with the minister. She introduced everyone to Pastor Mann, having known him most of her life.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the receiving line. Mrs. Holmes indicated that there would be only three of you in line today?”
Brooklyn spoke. “Yes, it’s myself, my daughter, and Carly’s best friend, Simone.”
“No other family?”
“There are nieces and nephews from her husband’s side, but I don’t know if they’ll be in attendance.”
“Very well.” Pastor Mann led everyone into the vestibule and showed them where to stand and then had them follow him into the church. The first two rows of pews were reserved for family, but it was unlikely they would all be filled. The pastor showed Simone where to put the urn, and the family stood there, taking in the altar. A large picture of Carly with Austin sat on an easel. The picture had been taken about twenty years ago, and it had been years since Bowie had seen a picture of Austin. But now Austin was staring back at him, with his beaming, infectious smile. Bowie checked Brooklyn to see her expression, but she was on the stage, rearranging flowers, not even paying attention to the photo. Neither was Brystol. She was off with her grandmother. Bowie took one last look and decided he needed to shut the door on the past. After today concluded, he was done worrying about Austin.
People lingered on the steps, waiting for the receiving line to open. Once it had, the Bs and Simone shook hands and hugged folks they knew as well as some complete strangers. A lot of guys from the docks showed up, some still dressed in their fishing gear, but that was to be expected, and it hadn’t really shocked anyone. It also hadn’t surprised Bowie to see that his friends were there—apart from Grady, who, according to Graham, hadn’t been seen for a couple of days.
During the service Bowie’s brave teenage daughter stood up in front of everyone in a black knee-length dress, poised and in control of her emotions, and delivered an eloquent eulogy. She told stories about her grandmother, about her summers in Cape Harbor, and about how her nonnie was her best friend. Bowie was so proud of her. What he planned to say to her played over and over in his mind. He didn’t want her to stop loving Carly, or even Austin. The last thing he wanted was for her to resent him, to feel as if he were trying to take away the life she knew. That wasn’t his plan. All he wanted was to be her father moving forward. He wasn’t stupid—he knew he had an uphill battle—but also knew he had the support of Brooklyn, and together they would tell their daughter and both of their parents.
Before the service concluded, Brooklyn stood in front of everyone and invited them to the Whale Spout to help celebrate Carly’s life. Brystol was rather excited about being able to go into a bar. She giggled every time it was brought up. No one had the heart to tell her that she could enter if she was with someone over the age of twenty-one . . . a little tidbit Bowie wanted to keep quiet for as long as possible.
They arrived at the Whale Spout, and as soon as Brooklyn stepped inside, she inhaled sharply.