“He’s saying all the right words. He’s saying she was a wonderful wife and mother and that she loved humanity, that kind of thing,” Pete said.

“When they leave we can go down and place our flowers on the grave,” Jill said. “We can all say our good-byes then.”

Cady looked around. It was unseasonably hot for late May. Overhead, she could hear birds chirping their morning song. Maybe they were singing for Amy. She hoped so. She wondered if she would ever come here again after today. Would she ever visit her half brother’s grave? Would she feel the need to come here and talk to the woman she’d once thought of as her friend?

Boomer inched closer as his hand sought for and held hers. She looked up at him and smiled. Her three childhood friends all looked so nice, she thought. So grown-up, so manly. So full of grief.

“It shouldn’t end like this,” Cady said with a catch in her voice.

“Maybe it was the only way it could end,” Andy said, his voice breaking. He looked over at Boomer. His shoulders straightened imperceptibly.

“It looks like half the town turned out to say good-bye to Amy. I think she would like knowing that,” Pete said. “One of my clients told me this morning that Arnie is moving his business to Squirrel Hill. I drove by the house on the way here, and there’s a For Sale sign on the lawn of their house. I personally don’t think people should make such important decisions when they’re grieving. It’s just been a few days since Amy passed away.”

“I imagine that’s the right course of action for Arnie,” Boomer said.

“It’s over, people are leaving,” Andy said, relief ringing in his voice. “My parents don’t look like they’re overcome with grief. I don’t think I’m ever going to speak to them again.”

“Andy, don’t go there,” Jill said.

“You’re right. I don’t think we should go down there until everyone is gone, especially Arnie. I don’t want a confrontation today of all days. He can’t stop me from coming here, can he, Boomer?”

“No, he can’t. You can come anytime you want, and as often as you want.”

“Jill comes here all the time. That’s how she met Cady. Now we can come together.”

“I think we can go down now,” Pete said. “The last car is going through the gate.”

They walked hand in hand the way they had when they were little.

“What…what should we do, Jill? You’ve done this before, we haven’t,” Boomer said.

“You lay your flower on the casket, then you say a prayer. You take a moment to reflect and relive a pleasant memory. You can shed a tear. There really aren’t any rules.”

There were no dry eyes as the little procession made their way past Amy’s bronze casket.

Cady took a deep breath when they made their way to their respective cars.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’re going to think I’m off the wall or not, but I had this idea,” Pete said. “I think we should all go to the pond and have a picnic. I’d like us to go there and play like we did when we were kids. I had my housekeeper pack us a picnic. We can ride the zip line and do all those things we did back then. Then we can lay it all to rest. I don’t know why, but I think Amy might like to know we’re doing it. Our final good-bye. Am I nuts, or does it all make sense to you guys?”