Off Limit (Forgotten Flounders Series Book 2) by J.C. Hannigan

Author:J.C. Hannigan [Hannigan, J.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Connor

The funeral home seemed overburdened with the number of townsfolk in it. The main room was so full that guests had started finding seats in the other rooms off to the side, watching and listening to the service projected onto the television.

Two rows had been reserved for family and close family friends. Mom, Dad, myself, and Calum all sat in the first pew. Dare, his mom, Evan, and his parents sat behind us.

I hadn’t been to many funerals before—just Nan’s, really—and I’d been a lot smaller then. So many people were already there by the time we arrived, so many people who pulled us aside on our way in to give their condolences. It was going to be an endlessly long day, with sorrow edging each moment.

Sorrow-edged moments were not my specialty. After growing up in a house with my father and Calum, and their explosive and reactive natures, I worked extra hard to make sure the people around me weren’t in conflict or upset. That things felt harmonious.

Emotions in our household were already heightened by the grief we all felt over the loss of Gramps—even Dad. Although things weren’t always perfectly kosher between the two of them, my father had looked up to and respected Gramps, even if he’d been jealous that Calum and I had bonded with Gramps the way we had over music.

As I listened to the stories shared about Gramps and the incredible life he’d led, tears streaked freely down my face. Each story was more entertaining than the last.

I missed Gramps so much already, missed his advice and his calm and steady nature. I missed how he accepted everyone, offering them kindness and love instead of judgement or ridicule. Offering a hand when someone needed help, a joke when someone needed a laugh. He was the kind of man who believed the more kindness you put into the world, the more goodness you would find in it.

It was Ted Watson’s story that got to me harder than any of the others. Ted was Gramps’s last living friend, and they’d known each other for over sixty years. He spoke of how much volunteer work my grandfather had always done for the community, and how it had inspired him and his wife to do more for theirs.

“I suppose the lesson is, we should all aspire to be more like Frank Murphy. That is the greatest way to honour his memory, and this community,” Ted had finished, his words taking up space in my heart.

To be more like Gramps would be an honour. He’d been a shining beacon in our lives, teaching us how to express ourselves through music. Offering that gift to other people who needed a bridge. I wanted to continue that legacy somehow.

Once Ted finished his reading, Mom went up and shared stories about being raised by him. She spoke about how he was the first person she would call, whenever she needed guidance about anything at all, because he gave the best advice.

That was one of the things I would miss most about Gramps—his consultation.

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