After Brian had found out about Bernie’s death, he’d actually called the funeral home to set up something, only to discover that everything had been prepaid. According to the funeral director, Bernie had taken care of it all shortly after his wife died some fifty years ago.

As far as Harper knew, the only family Bernie had was one sister, and she lived in England, if she was even still alive. Bernie had spoken very little of his family, only mentioning his long-deceased wife on occasion.

The service was at the funeral home. Bernie had declined to have a wake, and the service wasn’t very well attended. Bernie had been an old man who kept to himself, and many of his friends had already passed away.

Most of the people there were his former coworkers. Bernie had worked out at the docks for years, long before Harper’s father had started, and according to Brian, Bernie had been very well liked down there.

The poor attendance was probably more a result of it being a Friday afternoon, when it was hard for people to get time off. Brian’s foreman was pretty strict, and it had been a bit of a struggle for him to take the time, but Brian refused to miss the funeral.

Despite the solemnity of the occasion, Brian actually looked better than he had in days. He’d shaved today, and the dark suit he wore looked good on him, even if he looked uncomfortable in it. He always seemed ill at ease in anything other than jeans, but Harper thought her father cleaned up rather well.

Before the funeral got fully under way, people were milling around, speaking to one another in hushed tones. This was the time when they could pay their final respects to Bernie.

Bernie had a closed coffin, and Harper knew why. As hard as she tried to remember the wonderful, warm man he’d been, when she thought of him, the only image that came to her mind was the final one she had of him: his body torn open as he lay bleeding on the island he’d loved so much.

Harper had gone to the front of the room with her father, joining him as he said good-bye to the old man. Brian put his hand on the smooth wood of the coffin, awkwardly rubbing it for a minute before lowering his hand.

“I wish we’d spent more time with him these last few years,” Brian said. He wasn’t crying, at least not yet, but he sniffled and his voice was thick.

“Me, too,” Harper agreed.

Brian shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “Gemma should be here.”

“Yeah. She should.”

Harper had been hoping he wouldn’t bring up Gemma today, but he was right. Gemma should’ve been here.