Page 41 of Raised On It (Between the Pines #1)

Mason

T he Smith Family funeral home is standing room only today.

It seems Mel Brown was more than just the local barber to most of the town. As the man who cut the hair of all of the men in town from toddlers to the retired, he was as much of a therapist as he was a barber.

Every business on Main Street is closed for this afternoon’s service. All of Eastlyn is in mourning.

As the new girl in town and for such a short period, I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have spent what limited time with him that I did.

I was only in the shop once, but I get it.

Mel’s is a living, breathing museum, and he loved each and every person in this town.

And that love was returned tenfold if the turnout today is any indication.

There have been deaths in my parents' circle of friends, and yes, there is a big turnout to those services as well, but they don’t feel like this.

There is no sense of community or real care for the loved ones who have lost someone dear to them.

It all still feels like a business transaction.

Everyone is there, so they don’t miss an opportunity, and most of all because of how it looks.

And if the O’Briens have one thing down, it’s appearances.

Over this past week, Miles has been just as busy as ever with work. In addition to taking care of Margie and Mel’s family, the arrangements for today, he made sure everyone knew that the shop was still open and trying to keep business flowing to his employees, Mac and Floyd.

This past week reminds me of what it must have been like during the blackout in Vegas.

The first day I met Emmett and Amelia at the salon, and how they were talking about how Miles kept everyone calm and was the person in the group who took care of everyone.

Just as he’s doing now when the people of Eastlyn, especially when one family in particular, need him most.

If only more of his Crew family were here to support him. With Parker and Audrey all the way on the other side of the country, Rachel and Reece in Africa, and Emmet and Josh now all living out of town, it’s only Miles and Amelia representing their handpicked little family of friends.

Through it all, he has spent more time with me during the week than usual.

Not only have we spent all of our evenings together, but I’ve also hung out at the EBC office either writing or wandering about the brewery when he’s on calls or in meetings.

He’s asked me to go with him to run errands, let Lou out, and do all things domestic with him.

He's even had me go with him when he visited Mel’s family.

Watching him with them causes my love for him to run deeper and deeper.

He isn’t putting on a show.

This is who he is.

All of his work this week to make sure today honored his friend in the right way was not for his gain.

He cares about them, and even in their time of sorrow, you can see their appreciation for his generosity, even if he refuses to really acknowledge everything he’s done for them.

This week has been the first time I have seen Miles treated as more than just the good old local boy who made a name for himself.

When people see him in action like he has been, rallying the town together to take care of their own, they look at him like this is his town and they are his citizens.

Like he’s the King of Eastlyn. And with me at his side, I have unfairly been treated just as well.

I have shook an unknown amount of hands and held babies.

I’ve made phone calls and even a pie or two.

Friday night he even spoke during halftime at the high school football game. He helped the Eagles dedicate their season to Mel and spoke as though he were the school representative. It was touching and heartfelt, and my love for Miles and this town grew even stronger that night.

Through this tragedy has come a true blessing with the knowledge that I want to be here next to this man and with these people.

I haven’t said it out loud, and I still have moments of uncertainty and fear. Not only about whether I would be willing to give up New York for Eastlyn but there is also the unknown of what Miles truly wants.

When he said we weren’t going to talk about the end of my stay here, he meant it. He doesn’t joke about marriage anymore, and every day is spent living in the moment.

There is no denying that the strength of our relationship grows every day, and he looks at me like the sun rises and sets in my eyes. But not talking about our next step has had me tied up in knots.

Sitting here in Smith’s Funeral Home is one of those moments when I feel a bit out of place. I mean, what am I doing here? I’ve been here just over two months. I feel like an intruder.

But then Miles squeezes my hand before he releases it to go up and say a few words .

Standing behind the podium, he eloquently expresses his feelings and tells stories from his childhood involving Mel.

From his time in the shop to baseball games sponsored by that same shop. He highlighted his skills as a two-stepper and someone who made the best brisket in the county.

Those in attendance are laughing openly at a silly story involving Mel, a raccoon family, and a plate of steaks.

But those tears of laughter turn to those of sorrow when he changes the topic to love.

“If you knew Mel, you know that his world began and ended with Margie. He loved her something fierce, and his loving wife and children were his everything. Yes, it seemed he was always at the shop, but he was also at every game, recital, dinner, and bedtime story, and I don’t think Mel and Margie have spent more than a night or two apart in their sixty plus years of marriage. ”

Miles grows quiet for a moment, his eyes finding mine and holding steady from across the room.

My heart is his.

No question.

“You know, it was just two weeks ago that I was last in Mel’s’ chair.

” He’s speaking right to me. Telling me to listen carefully with his intent stare.

“We were talking about love. Well, he was telling me that he could see that I had fallen pretty hard, and he remembered how it felt when he fell in love with Margie. In fact, his exact words were, ‘I remember what it is to lose your reason over a woman, Miles. In fact, I lost all my reason the day I met Margie, and well, it’s been over sixty years, and she never did give it back.’”

He turns his attention to Margie.

“You were his sun and moon. He loved you with his whole heart. And I know he’s here by your side today. He’ll always be here with all of us.”

Miles steps down from the podium and stops in front of the Brown family and quietly offers his condolences before joining me three rows behind them.

When he fills his spot next to me, he pulls me in tight against his side and kisses me on my temple.

For the rest of the service, I can only think one thing over and over.

Love.

Love.

Love.

Love.

I know we’re here because of a great loss, and I feel that, but I also feel so much love for the man with his arm around me. My tears are seen to everyone around me as sorrow, only I know that they are also due to the overwhelming swelling of my heart.

And the strangest thing is I can’t wait to tell my mom.

I wrote her back the night we got back to Eastlyn, and we’ve been messaging each other every day since.

I can’t excuse decades of poor parenting, but I’ve decided to try to have some sort of relationship with her. Over the past week, she has not only acknowledged and apologized for her behavior, but I’m beginning to understand her a little better.

Because she had married who she had been told to marry and was raised to do as her husband told her, just as her mother had, she was only doing what she knew.

Last night, her message said she knew she had done it all wrong when she saw the first picture of Miles and me together on my page.

She saw something in my eyes she had never seen before, and she knew it was happiness.

She realized she kept that from me for most of my life, and she was grateful to get to see it even if only via pictures on social media.

I’m still treading lightly, but it’s been nice to talk to her this way. I think not being face to face has helped, and we’ve both opened up more than we would have in person.

So, with the emotions coming from the heartbreak of Mel’s death, the communication with my mother, and all of the love hitting me square in the chest right here in this pew, I’m overwhelmed and silently bawling my eyes out.

I feel like a sponge being run dry.

We’re all asked to stand as the family is the first to leave the room.

Miles takes my face in his hands, and whispers, “Hey, baby, you okay?”

I nod furiously.

“You sure.”

I rise up on my toes and confess in his ear.

“I just love you so much. I can’t imagine ever losing you like this. It’s too much to even think about.”

Wrapping his arms around me, he holds me tight until it’s time for our row to exit.

When he releases me, there are tears streaming down his face as well.

Now, I’m the one holding his face in my hands.

I wipe his tears with my thumbs, and we exit our row and walk hand in hand out of the funeral home.