Free Family Blessings by Lavyrle Spencer Page B

have you act as pallbearer. But only if you want to."
    "I'd have been hurt if you hadn't asked. Besides, he'd expect it, and so would I if it were the other way around."
    She squeezed his hand and released it. "I need the names of the other men as soon as possible so they can be listed in the obituary."
    "I'll take care of it all, Mrs. Reston. I'll speak to the captain and call Walter Dewey myself--how's that?"
    "That would be a big help, thank you. It seems . .." She felt a renewed surge of gratitude at having him to rely on. "It seems as if I've been leaning on you very heavily, Christopher. Forgive me.
    You've really helped--I want you to know that. Whenever you're around, things just seem--well, I feel better."
    She smiled and he felt better than he had since awakening that morning.
    "Me too."
    When she was gone he drove over to the station and spoke to the captain, called Walter Dewey, then took care of an unpleasant detail that he didn't want Lee Reston to have to handle: He drove to the impound lot to pick up Greg's key ring. Toby, who ran the lot, knew him and knew he and Greg had been roommates.
    "I'm sure sorry, Chris," he said as he handed over the keys.
    "Yeah," Chris said, clearing his throat. "He was a good man and a good friend."
    Toby clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder and they commiserated in silence.
    "I imagine the motorcycle is a loss."
    "Yes, it is."
    Chris nodded, studying the oily dirt of the yard. "That's good."
    He hadn't looked around for the machine, nor would he. "I guess that's good, otherwise his mother would have to have it fixed and sell it.
    This way she'll never have to deal with it at all."
    Toby squeezed his shoulder and dropped his hand.
    "Family must be takin' it pretty hard."
    Chris nodded. Sometimes it was hard to know what to say.
    "Well, take er easy, okay?" Toby said.
    "Yeah, thanks."
    The weather had grown muggy. To the east the sky was blue as an Easter egg. To the west the clouds looked like a dirty old hen who'd rolled in the dust. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
    Nearer, one could almost smell the first wetted-down dust, that summery scent that came just before the rain.
    It was approaching 4 P.M. when Christopher drove his spanking new wild-strawberry Ford Explorer out of the parking lot of Fahrendorff Ford. The dust-rain smell whipped in the open windows and mingled with that of new vinyl and an engine burning away the residual factory oils from its metal housing.
    This should have been a rip-roaring happy moment. He and Greg had looked forward to it for two months, ever since he'd ordered the vehicle. They had made plans to take a trip in it this fall, maybe down to Denver, where they'd go up into the mountains and search out some old abandoned ghost towns where gold mines had played out. They'd also talked about going up to Nova Scotia to see its rugged coastline, or even wait until winter and drive down to Florida. Whatever place they chose, they were going to take the Explorer.
    Suddenly Chris was sick and tired of all these mawkish thoughts.
    He was cruising along Coon Rapids Boulevard when he shouted at the thin air, "Hey, Greg--look! I got it!" He smiled and let some gladness seep in, let himself enjoy this milestone he'd anticipated for so long.
    "You there, Reston? Hey, lookit this.
    I've really got it at last and damn your nads for not being here with me! I'll get you for this, you little peckerhead! I'm gonna go to Denver anyway, just you wait and see! And you're gonna be sorry as hell you didn't stick around to go with me!" The Explorer had a faint tick in the right door panel. He'd have to have the dealer look into that. "So how is it up there, Reston?
    They got hot dogs with everything on em? Well, good! You keep em up there, okay?"
    He drove along feeling unexpectedly happy, realizing something for the first time: that until now he had not accepted Greg's death. With acceptance came a measure of peace and the ability to get on with life.
    He had no doubt