Uncle Mike laughed too before clearing his throat and glancing back at the casket again. “But Conor, you weren’t just my big brother, you were my best friend. And I…I’ll miss you, brother.”

Reagan’s bottom lip quivered as she tried to maintain control of her emotions. She reached for her mother’s hand and used the other to wipe away a few tears from the corners of her eyes. Her mom quietly cried beside her and Reagan wrapped her arm around her mom’s shoulders.

Several more people came up and told stories about her dad, but Reagan tuned most of their words out. She knew how great her dad was, but she couldn’t take hearing about it anymore. One of her dad’s cousins was the last to speak, and as she went to sit down after her speech, soft music began playing again through recessed speakers in the ceiling.

Reagan stood and stretched from side to side. She glanced toward the main door to see if people were still trickling into the room. A couple people entered, but Reagan didn’t pay them any mind. Her focus stopped on Jill standing just inside the door. She leaned against the wall with her hands in her pockets, her eyes skipping around the room. When their eyes met, Jill looked back at Reagan with obvious relief, and Reagan gave her a small smile in return.

Before she could excuse herself, another pair of mourners stopped in front of her and told her once again how very sorry they were. Reagan thanked the unknown women and smiled politely until they moved along. When Reagan looked back toward the door, Jill was gone.

Reagan knelt down in front of her mother. “I’m going to step outside for a minute, okay?”

“That’s fine, sweetie. Take all the time you need.”

Reagan kissed her mother on the cheek and then turned toward the door. As she passed Gwen, she whispered in her ear, “Can you look after her for a bit?”

“No problem,” Gwen replied. She moved next to her on the couch.

Satisfied that her mom was taken care of, Reagan went on a search.

Jill walked out to the parking lot, pulling her coat tighter around her waist. The first day of fall had brought chilly temps along with it. But knowing Midwestern seasons, it’d probably be in the eighties tomorrow. She heard the familiar chimes as she unlocked her car with her key fob. As she reached for the door handle, she heard a voice quietly call out behind her.

“Thank you for coming.” Reagan stood a few feet away, her arms crossed and her eyes puffy and red, but dry.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I didn’t come say hi. I, um, I’m not great at the whole comforting thing. I just wanted you to know that I’m so sorry for your loss.”