s*t*a*r*s 8 - pt 130

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This is Friday’s post!  Fridays have become very busy for me, so I think I’ll be posting on Thursdays from here on out – I think.  Have fun, enjoy, vote, comment and as always – keep on reading!


            The funeral is a grand affair: TV stars, movie stars, other writers, all packed into the small church where Jon had never set foot in.  Jonathan Wheaton had been a bestselling author, with millions of fans.  There was security everywhere.  Laura was shielded from the worst of it.  A select few friends and family were invited back to Haven Island for the actual burial.  This was where they would get true privacy, since the bridge was private and there was no way to get across it unless someone let them across.  Helicopters could fly overhead but Spencer had promised Natalie that if they got anywhere near, their equipment wouldn’t work well. 

             Tegan sits with her father and watches. She keeps getting flickers of another funeral when she was younger.  She can’t quite place it.  “Dad?”


             “When I was younger, did we go to a funeral like this?  I don’t know.  I can’t seem to place it.  It was green and there were lots of flowers?”

             He nods.  “We did.  Kate’s funeral, Kate and DJ.  You were young, but you might remember it.”

             Tegan’s eyes grow wide.  “Were we all together then? The daughters?”  She feels a wistful feeling run through her; oh she wishes they’d known each other long ago.

             He nods again, leaning back in his chair.  “Everyone except for Spencer.  I don’t remember seeing her there,” says Dylan.  “I remember Rylee because she was always smiling.  Abigail was shy.  Sydney never stopped moving and Shelby kept telling her she was going to duct tape her to the chair.  You were really serious; I think Amy had told you she’d never bring you anywhere else if you misbehaved.”

             Tegan smiles.  “That does sound like us, doesn’t it?  I’m going to go see how Spencer is doing, I’ll be right back?”

             “I’m a big boy, you go, and I might go find some celebrity to rub elbows with.”  He nods and watches her go.

             Tegan’s fingers flutter over Spencer’s shoulder as she approaches her.  “Hey sis,” says Spencer turning and winking at Tegan. 

             “How you holding up?  Crazy huh?”

             Spencer shrugs.  “I’m thinking this is the most normal thing we’ve done in a year.  Attending a funeral that is.”

             “That is saying a lot,” says Abby.  She slips up next to Tegan, an arm around Tegan’s waist.  “It was a nice service.  Did you know that they are reading the Will later this week?”

             “No, I didn’t know,” says Spencer.  Rylee shuffles over to them, gets a light kiss from Spencer and settles next to her.  “Not like that matters to us.”

             “Of course it does,” says Laura.  She smiles.  “You are all in the Will.  Even if you’d never met Jonathan, he knew about you, all of you.  Spencer you lived with us when you were a baby, he loved you like his own.”

             “What?” says Sydney, her hands in her pockets.  She keeps her eyes away from all of them.  “Why would he leave us anything?”

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