The Last Handful of Clover - Book 1: The Hereafter

1.49 Tuilla

Richard fell in behind them as they walked, staying as close to the family as he could manage without getting jostled. And when the mother pulled open the heavy glass door, the younger daughter's reticence gave him a perfect opening to slide into the building ahead of her, behind the older daughter and the son.

He sighed with relief. He was inside. And the tug was now almost at the crown of his head. Keith was upstairs.

It didn't take Richard long to find the stairway, although he had to navigate around some knots of people whispering in the halls, and pass a reception room with an open casket. He caught only a glimpse of an ancient, wrinkled face over the edge of the coffin before the milling people in the room blocked his view.

The stairway was near the back, in a much more isolated part of the funeral home. There was a sign on the wall there. The third line said "Administrative Offices" and had an arrow pointing up.

He rushed up the plushly carpeted stairs and down the hallway, heading toward the back of the building. Nearing his goal, he turned a corner and ran directly into a young woman coming out of an office. The impact sent him sprawling into a heap in the middle of the hallway, but didn't affect his assailant in the slightest. He looked at her from the floor as the woman headed for the stairway.

And then he heard Michelle's voice.

"Keith, honey, are you okay?"

Michelle had spoken softly, and now he could see her, knocking gently on a door. She was about ten yards down the hall, and he could see the universal sign for a men's room posted above the door where she knocked.

That tug in his head was screaming now, forcing him to focus directly on a spot just to the other side of that door. Richard leaned heavily on the wall and pulled himself to his feet.

There was a long pause. Longer than he liked, but then Richard heard a grunt and a rustling that sounded very much like someone picking themselves up off the floor. He saw Michelle was getting ready to try the door, when Keith called back, his voice weak.

"I'm okay. I'll be out in a second."

Michelle stood there for a moment more, her hand hovering over the doorknob, before she obviously decided it was best to give him as much time as he needed. She turned and headed directly toward Richard, who had to jump out of her way to let her pass.

Richard rushed to the door, and was about to force himself through it, when he heard more sounds from inside. He heard the water running, then the sound of a paper towel dispenser. He even imagined he could hear the towel being thrown into the waste bin.

The lock clicked, and the door opened. And Keith was in front of him once again.

Two things happened in that instant. The first Richard didn't realize until later, and it was that the hum, the tug, in his head clicked off like a switch was thrown. The second was that Richard gazed into the face of his lover, and what he saw staggered him. The single-minded focus he had been pursuing since he left Liberty Park, the desperate need to be with Keith, had become so obsessive that he had little time to ask himself the question.

Once I find Keith, then what do I do?

Although it didn't look like his husband had been crying, his face was pale and drawn. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like he had aged, even since this morning. As Keith passed, Richard reached up to touch his cheek, which still felt hard and unforgiving. As Richard followed his lover down the hall, he could see that his walk was shuffling, as if he was barely paying attention to where he put his feet.

At least he hasn't been crying, Richard thought. I don't know if I can bear it to see him cry again.

He thought that, but knew he was lying. If he needed to bear it, he would. He promised he wouldn't leave his lover's side again, ever. His only purpose now was to stay with him—to protect him, if he could—but if not, then at least to bear witness to his life, for whatever years the young man still had in front of him. There would be days, if not soon then eventually, when he'd have to endure his lover's tears. That was the nature of life.