“Thanks.” Reagan stared off to the side, her eyes tracking the cars driving down the street in front of the funeral home.

“Do you need a break from all that? I’m sure it’s…a lot.”

Reagan took in a quick breath and released it. “You’re right. Not for long, though. I don’t want my mom to be alone too much.”

Jill led Reagan to the front of her car, where they sat against the hood. “Well, judging by that crowd, your mom isn’t alone.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Jill squeezed Reagan’s hand. “I’m sorry. I know. But to have all those people in there, it seems your dad was a popular guy.”

Reagan smiled. “Definitely. Always had a story to tell or an ear for listening. He was the best.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Jill interlaced their fingers and squeezed again, receiving an even stronger squeeze in reply. And then her shoulders shook with her cries. She turned away to hide her emotion.

At first, Jill hesitated. She wasn’t good at this. Her mother had always told her that emotion should be kept private. But a fierce need to protect Reagan overwhelmed her. She reached for her chin, gently turning her head, and she was met with watery eyes. Jill cupped Reagan’s cheek with her hand, wiping away a few tears with her thumb.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m here.” Reagan leaned into her and Jill pulled her close until her head rested on her shoulder.

They sat there without saying a word. The only sounds were Reagan’s sniffles as she let the tears fall. Jill hadn’t known exactly what she was doing when she’d pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home. It had taken her over five minutes to get out of her car and into the building, second-guessing herself the whole way. Any doubts she’d had earlier had been washed away as Reagan let herself breakdown. As she sat there with her arm wrapped around Reagan, she couldn’t imagine not being here for her. She may not know what words to say or exactly how to act, and that made her feel inadequate, but she understood that sometimes being present for another person was enough.

When Reagan’s tears ebbed, she lifted her head and stared into Jill’s eyes. A connection Jill didn’t want to break. “Thank you.”

Jill shrugged. “No need to thank me. I didn’t do anything.”

“You did. More than you know,” Reagan whispered. She looked behind her to the entrance of the building. “I should get back in there.”

Jill straightened. “Of course. Please reach out if you need anything.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Jill brushed her lips against Reagan’s warm cheek, lingering for a beat longer than was probably appropriate. “Again, I’m very sorry.”