In spite of it having been a long day, Eunice was having trouble getting to sleep. Talking with Donna had given her some things to think about, especially about what she was going to face in getting along without Jeff, and what she was going to have to do with her life in the future.

Ann was not making life any easier. She hadn’t mentioned to the whole group her idea of having Eunice move in with her, but she’d come on pretty strongly about it talking one on one. Eunice was aware that Ann was doing some campaigning around the rest of the kids to try to get them to back her, but she wasn’t sure how well that was going. Ann’s idea irritated Eunice, mostly because she didn’t think she needed that kind of care now, or would any time soon, although at some point in the future it could come to that point. But for now, she wasn’t ready to leave this house where she’d lived with Jeff for the last half century, not on her daughter’s whim, anyway.

Especially not now, as much of a pest as Ann was being about it. For one thing, the timing was all wrong – Eunice felt Ann shouldn’t be pushing this hard about it with Jeff not even in the ground yet. She’d even told her daughter that, but it hadn’t made much difference – her protestations had gone mostly ignored.

And then there was Eric. Ann’s plan totally ignored his existence, like he didn’t matter, and he did to Eunice. After all, it wasn’t Ann who had taken much of the load of caring for Jeff, it had been their long-time friend.

Eunice hadn’t talked to Eric about it yet, although she knew she would have to, as soon as things died down after the funeral. She wasn’t sure he even knew about it, and right at the moment she didn’t want him worrying about it. Afterwards would be fine; she’d told Ann she wasn’t planning deciding anytime soon, not that it had slowed Ann down any.

But thinking about all that Donna had to say, and thinking about how Ann was making a pest of herself wasn’t helping her get to sleep. Finally, she decided she might as well get up and take a sleeping aid, or she wasn’t going to be in any shape for what would have to be done tomorrow, the day of Jeff’s funeral.

She got up and went out to the living room, to find Eric staring at a blank computer screen. “I didn’t know you were still up,” she said to him.

“Still trying to figure out what I’m going to say for the eulogy,” he sighed. “There’s just so much, and I don’t know where to start. Donna says I should just wing it, and I’m beginning to think she may have a point.”

“She may be right,” Eunice replied. “Think of all the stories you were telling the kids earlier. You didn’t have them written out ahead of time.”

“No, but they’re stories I’ve told over and over again,” he shook his head. “This is different. It’s more sensitive, and more personal. I can’t be too short or too long, but somehow I need to honor Jeff properly. I’m not sure I can do it.”

“Then say that. I mean, start out by saying that, and just go where you think you need to go. When you see people yawning or getting fidgety, find a place to stop. Eric, I know you and I know you can handle it.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“My only real suggestion is to try to talk about things that the kids are going to identify with,” she said. “Eric, you have been part of Jeff’s and my life for so long you shouldn’t have any problem with that.”

“Could be,” he replied. “The problem in my mind is that Jeff did so much for me over the years, I don’t think I adequately repaid him for it.”

“You’re wrong on that, Eric, even if you discount what you did for the both of us the past two years. You paid him back in many ways, going clear back to when you and Donna got Jeff and me together. Putting together the buyout of the gas company back in the early seventies wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been able to bring all the parties together. I’m not sure Harrington Oil would have survived if you hadn’t done that. Plus, all the little kindnesses, all the adventures you shared with us. Eric, it gave a special dimension to our lives. Never let yourself think it was an unequal trade, because it wasn’t.”

“It still doesn’t seem right,” he sighed.

“Oh, come on. How much help were you when we had three little kids running around? You were like a third parent to them! Granted, you weren’t here in the summers much while they were growing up, but you more than made it up in the winters.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so.”

“I know I’m right and I’m sure you would agree when you stop to think about it. Now, the best thing for you to do would be to shut off the computer and go to bed. I’m going to take a sleeping pill and do the same thing. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, Eric and we need to face it on more than half a night’s sleep.”

Partly from being up so late the night before, both Eunice and Eric slept in a little the next morning. Both of them arose about the same time, to find that Elaine had taken over the kitchen to serve breakfast to both those who had stayed the night, and for the group that showed up from the motel. She’d made up a big pot of sausage gravy and a couple pans of biscuits, so she could serve up breakfast whenever people were ready to eat. In addition, someone had stopped off at the doughnut shop in town and brought a big box of rolls, so that added to the meal.

Donna was one of those who had come in from the motel, looking moderately awake. “So,” she asked Eric, “did you figure out what you’re going to do for the eulogy?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “I guess I’m stuck with taking your suggestion, since I don’t have any other choice now.”

“You’ll do fine, Eric,” she smiled. “I know you will. You just have to have some of the confidence in yourself that you have in other things.”

“I hope you’re right,” he shook his head. “I sure hope you’re right.”

There was still some time before the activities were to start at the funeral home. At some point, it had been decided to pull together a collection of family pictures to display on a bulletin board for the visitation, which was to begin at noon. That meant that several photo albums were scattered around the living room, turning the whole project into a mutual remembrance of days gone by. Some of the pictures included things like Jeff and Eunice’s wedding, their honeymoon in the Triumph, and of course a lot of shots of growing kids around the lake house. There were any number of comments at one picture or another of “Do you remember . . . ” and of course most people there did. Getting the collection down to twenty or thirty pictures was clearly going to be a major problem, and several people commented that they should have gotten started on it sooner.

Finally, the collection was winnowed down to what seemed like a reasonable size, and by then it was time to start getting ready for the funeral and visitation. Several people went back to the motel to change clothes, and that at least made the house a little quieter.

Eric went up to Mark’s old room to get changed – he couldn’t think of it as “his” room even though he’d lived there for two years. He had never been a suit-and-tie guy and in fact only owned one suit, the same one he’d worn to Chip’s funeral four years before, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn it before that. Even considering putting it on made him a little nostalgic, not for the wearing of it. As far as he knew, he was the last survivor of his close group of climbing buddies from decades before. Luke and Chip were both gone, and it had been a number of years since he’d even gotten a Christmas card from Warren.

What fun they’d had when they’d all been young and carefree, strong, and admittedly a bit nuts. There were a lot of memories there, good and bad, like when he and Luke had been caught in a storm near the top of Nuptse and had decided it was foolish to press on in that weather. They’d made it back to their intermediate camp and were caught there for more than a day, and by that time another assault on the top was pointless – they didn’t have the food, the fuel, nor the energy to try it, and both of them realized it. As it was, there had been a couple of times on the descent that he hadn’t been sure if they’d make it down at all.

There was the summer when Warren had taught him much of what he knew about rock climbing on the Shawangunks, and some of the other messing around he did that summer. And Chip, of course – over a period of close to ten years they’d spent a lot of time together, having numerous adventures along the way. Climbing in the Alps, canoeing, sailing in the Inside Passage, the good times they’d had with various girlfriends. Now, he was the only one to retain those memories of what had been some pretty good years. Good days, good years – and all gone now.

Even Jeff was gone. It was still hard to believe it, but there it was. Jeff had never really been a part of those adventuring memories, but he had supported him whole-heartedly in them – and getting right down to it, Eric wondered just why Jeff had done it, why he’d put up with all the comings and goings of his footloose friend. Could it have been that he liked to vicariously share in those adventures, knowing that he’d never do anything like that for himself? It could be.

This was getting him nowhere, he thought as he pulled a white shirt from the closet – a couple days before he’d brought it over from the guest cottage where it had been for years. It had been wrapped in a dry-cleaner’s plastic bag, and probably didn’t look as good as it might have, but it was what he had to work with. He put it on, buttoned it up, then started to pull on his trousers. In a few minutes he was about as ready as he was going to get, if he could possibly be ready for what he knew was to come.

He got back downstairs just as people were getting set to go to Stiverson’s. “Mom,” Ann asked her mother, “you’re riding with us, aren’t you?”

“No, I’ll ride with Eric. There are a couple things we need to talk about.”

“Mom, there’s plenty of room for you,” Ann persisted.

“No, that’s all right,” she replied. “We’ll be along in a few minutes.”

Ann seemed determined to get her way, but Eunice was not to be swayed. Eric couldn’t help but wonder if that meant something about Ann’s idea of having Eunice move in with her, the one he was apparently not supposed to know about, but he and Eunice hadn’t discussed it so he couldn’t very well comment on it.

Eunice had something last-minute to do in the bathroom, and was in there for several minutes while Eric waited, a little fidgety and wanting to get moving so this would be over and done with, not that being early would change the timetable in the slightest. Finally Eunice came out of the bathroom and asked, “Are they gone?”

“It’s just you and me now,” he replied.

“Good,” she sighed. “I am getting very tired of Ann hovering over me and trying to direct my every move. I need at least a little breather from her.”

“Yeah, that could get old in a hurry.”

“At least it shows that she cares, although I wish she weren’t quite as forward about it. She’s been trying to run things that aren’t hers to run. Like that business with the pictures. There was one I would really have liked to have included in there, even though it wasn’t very appropriate, but that it showed the human side of Jeff and me when we were younger.”

“All right, you’ve got me curious.”

“I wanted to show it off really badly when they were messing around with those pictures, but I couldn’t quite force myself to do it,” she grinned. “But I think I can show you, since I think you’ll understand.”

“I don’t know if I should see this or not.”

“Oh, it’s nothing bad, but it probably wouldn’t have gone over well as a display for a visitation.” She walked into the living room and pulled a book off the bookshelf. There were a couple black-and-white photos there, and she handed them to him.

Eric was not expecting what he saw: they were both pictures of Eunice, sprawled across the trunk of the Triumph, most likely from when they had been on their honeymoon. Although they in no way revealed anything, it was also clear that she had no clothes on, either – just a huge grin. “Yeah,” he said. “That might not have been quite the thing you’d want to have at a funeral visitation. This was on your honeymoon, right?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “I thought it was a very forward thing for me to do, but it showed just how intimate I’d gotten with Jeff. He took those photos and processed them in his father’s photo lab after we got back. Until now, he and I were the only ones to see them, but right now I thought they were something you ought to see.”

“Why’s that?”

“Eric, I know how things work at funerals like this. Everyone wants to bring out the saintly side of the deceased, and they tend to forget that people are human and have fun and faults. You don’t need to mention these photos in your eulogy, but I’d like you to at least have them in mind.”

“I’ll keep quiet about them,” he nodded. “Ann would have a fit if she knew these existed, though.”

“Ann, nothing,” she snorted. “Think about Ashley with all her religious principles. I expect she’s not going to be very happy with the service anyway, especially since I told Reverend Pillow to go lightly in that area. Ashley wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than a hellfire and brimstone come-to-Jesus meeting.”

“I suspect you’re right, but that’s music we can face afterwards,” he replied. “I suppose we’d better get going or else Ann will be sending out a search party.”

“Yes, with bloodhounds and all. She’ll probably be in a tizzy if we aren’t there two minutes behind her.”

The two of them went out to the garage and got into the minivan. “You know,” he said as they got out to the highway, “I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to those photos but I did get a glance at some of them, and there’s one question I have.”

“What’s that?”

“Back when we were young, I remember you wearing playsuits a lot. Granted, later on I wasn’t around much in the summer when you would have been wearing them, but those cameras were there. When did you quit wearing them?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she shrugged. “It must have been in the seventies. They were out of style by then but I just liked wearing them. I guess as I got older, I just didn’t any more. They were convenient for some things, but not for others.” She got a grin on her face and added, “Back in the fifties and early sixties you could wear them a lot shorter than you could a skirt or regular shorts, and I think that was at least part of the reason Jeff liked to see me wear them. I think that after the miniskirt came in they lost a lot of their appeal. I could never get into one of them now, since I’ve lost a lot of flexibility along the way.”

“We are all getting older,” he agreed. “And the best I can say is that it beats the alternative. And now, I have something to run by you.”

“What’s that?”

“As you know, I’ve gone over to the storage shed and started the Triumph once a month or so just so it’ll start without too many hassles. If you would approve, we can leave the minivan at the storage shed and drive the Triumph in Jeff’s funeral procession.”

“He’d like that,” she said brightly. “He really would, and I’m glad you thought of it. Let’s do it. I may not be a flexible as I once was, but I can still get in and out of it with the top up. I’d almost rather do it with the top down, but it is February, after all.”

It only took them a few minutes to change cars; as expected, the Triumph started without any problems. When they got to the funeral home in Wychbold, Alton Stiverson was out in front, directing people to places to park for the procession to the cemetery. He was surprised to see the ancient sports car pull up to the procession, but when he realized who was driving it he directed them right to the front of the line, which was close to the door.

Almost expectedly, Ann was waiting for them as they walked inside. “Mom,” she said petulantly, “we were starting to wonder what happened to you.”

“I had a couple things to do,” Eunice told her daughter. “We made it on time, and they wouldn’t have started without us anyway.”

Rather than having multiple visitations in the evening, Jeff and Eunice had decided long before to just have a single one prior to the service, to keep from dragging out the agony if nothing else. Eric had picked up the idea that Ann wasn’t very happy about that, either, but what was done had been done and there wasn’t anything much that could be done about it. The format was that Eunice and the rest of the relatives would greet the mourners as they arrived, and Ann, as the oldest child, seemed to think she should be next to her mother. Once again Eunice ruled against her: “Eric knows a lot more of these people than you do,” she said.

“But Mom . . . ”

“Eric, you stand next to me,” Eunice replied firmly. “We must meet our friends and neighbors properly.”

Ann clearly wasn’t happy about the rebuff, but got into line next to Eric and seemed to be trying to edge him out all the way through the long line of arrivals.

It was, in fact, a larger turnout than anyone had anticipated. Perhaps they should have expected it; Jeff had, of course, been an important person around Wychbold. He’d employed a lot of people in the past and had many customers and friends. By the time the rate of people arriving had slowed, Stiverson had to open an extra room to accommodate them all.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Eric knew a majority of the mourners – he’d worked with them, or delivered their heating fuel, or had just come to know them in half a century around Wychbold. On the other hand, only a relative few knew Ann or the other Harrington children; they’d all been gone from the community for a long time.

One of the people coming by to offer condolences was Gary Dovecote, Eric’s old canoe partner. He offered the appropriate words of thanks, and Eric told him they’d have to find a minute to talk later; now wasn’t the time.

It took most of the allotted two hours to greet the guests, with quiet words all around and somber music playing in the background. As the time for the service approached, first Eunice and Eric, followed by the rest of the family, took the sad trip over to the casket for their final look at Jeff’s body.

To Eric, the husk of the body lying there didn’t look like his long-time friend at all. Even though it was in front of his eyes, he couldn’t really picture the fact that Jeff was gone. He was dressed casually, in the pullover shirt and Cardigan he and Eunice had decided on, and Eric imagined that if Ann hadn’t had a hissy about that yet, she would sooner or later. Still, at best it was a somber way to end over half a century of friendship. Eric somehow wished he hadn’t seen the body in the casket at all; he preferred to think of Jeff alive, even the life he’d had after his stroke. This was final, and there was nothing good to say about it.

The slow, somber music came to an end, and Rev. Pillow got up to say a brief few words, including a reading of the obituary that Eric so disliked, but couldn’t do anything about. Then it was time for Eric to give the eulogy, and he still didn’t know what he wanted to say.

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