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and Mitch stood arm in arm under the scarlet umbrella of two immense white oaks and the couples nodded to each other, their somber message understood.
    Artificial grass covered the soggy earth and leaves speckled the white casket with the burnished shades of October. A small wreath rested against it and ivy formed the word “Mom” across a circle of wildflowers and two perfect white roses. Fireflies danced among the flowers. It seemed an odd choice to her, but her mother had been specific in her wishes. The roses and “Mom” part she was sure of, but more in the forefront of a growing list of questions was why there seemed to be so many pieces missing from a simple woman’s life. Fireflies? Why? Why didn’t she know?
    The pastor excused himself from a small knot of people and took his place across from Ryleigh and Evan. He scanned the gathering and then nodded modestly to her. He blew a breath across his fingers and opened his Bible, tucking the frayed ribbon into the binding. A familiar melody murmured with the voice of the breeze as a small choir of ladies quietly sang “Amazing Grace,” and Pastor Edwards spoke fondly of one of God’s children—a wife, mother, and grandmother.

     
    The service was short and thoughtful, yet uplifting, exactly as Eleanor would have wanted. The small crowd filed past and conveyed their condolences before moving on to pay their respects to loved ones. Ryleigh didn’t envy them. On any normal day, imagining the lives of the deceased was fascinating, but she didn’t take much pleasure in visiting her family here. One had been too many. Now there would be two.
    “Excuse me, Ryleigh?”
    The pleasant voice pulled her from her thoughts. Ryleigh turned. “Pastor Edwards.” She smiled and extended her hand, and he accepted it warmly with both of his. With round cheeks flushed from the October chill and ears that took up more space than they should have, he wasn’t a particularly handsome man, but his expression was compassionate and kind, his handshake warm and comforting. Prerequisites that surely came with the territory. “The service was lovely and I appreciate the kind words about Mom.”
    “Your mother was quite explicit in her wishes.” The pastor reached inside his jacket. “And she left this for you,” he said as he handed her a worn, yellowed envelope.
    Ryleigh frowned. “What’s this?”
    “It’s an insurance policy your mother asked me to keep until after the funeral.”
    “Life insurance?” She glanced at Evan, and then back to the pastor. “I’m afraid I’m finding there’s a lot I don’t know about my mother.”
    A subtle smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Some folks aren’t comfortable sharing their lives,” he said, still holding the envelope, “and some want only to protect those they love.” The pastor pressed his Bible to his chest. “And she valued her privacy.”
    Ryleigh nodded. “Thank you, Pastor. You’ve been most helpful.”
    Pastor Edwards smiled and tipped his head in thankful acknowledgement. “Eleanor was special to God and to us.” He patted her hands politely and offered a firm handshake with Evan. “She was a strong woman and I sense her strength in her daughter as well. Yours will surface, Ryleigh, once healing has surpassed your grief.” Pastor Edwards took her hands, his engulfing hers in a warm cocoon. “If there’s anything I can do, you have my number.” He gave her hands a squeeze and then turned. The questions he’d raised disappeared with him into the crowd of mourners.
    “You ready to go, Mom?”
    She glanced around as the last of Eleanor’s friends filed through the entry gate. “Can you give me a minute, Son? Alone?”
    He squeezed her arm. “I’ll wait with Nat and Mitch.”
    The unpeopled silence filled the cemetery. Grief’s darkness pulled at her, yet life penetrated its thickening fog. Birds chattered. Tires splashed on wet asphalt. Wind murmured its song. A child laughed in the distance.