Page 157 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

PETER

“ Y ou clean up well,” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth to my little brother, who stood stoically beside me in a navy-blue suit and shiny black shoes.

Mike slid his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I figured if there was ever a time to get a haircut and clean myself up, it was now. Dad would have told me I look like a dumbass.”

Katie, who stood on my other side, leaned forward. “A handsome well put together dumbass.”

Mike smiled at her and nodded his thanks. “I need your positivity in my life.”

Katie had been my rock for the past week as I navigated the messy road of finalizing plans for a funeral.

Much to mine and Mike’s surprise, our father had already arranged his entire funeral prior to his death.

For a man who was never all that organized in life, he’d done a pretty good job planning an event he couldn’t attend, and the funeral director had basically just sat me and my brother down and gone through the details with us.

Details like the coffin my father had chosen and the plot beside his sister who died when she was twenty-four. Details like the mini sandwiches and cakes he wanted for after the service, the decor he wanted, and even a playlist.

Lastly, he’d asked for me to give the eulogy.

At first, I’d declined, but after talking it over with Katie, she made me realize how much of an honor it was to be the one to stand up there in front of everyone who loved me and my father and be the one to set the tone for his departure from this life.

When I’d asked her what she meant, she said simply that it was in my hands to give closure to the people who would miss my father now that he was gone.

She told me it was a burden and a gift, and it was my choice to refuse but that she would help me write it and even read it out loud the day of if I needed.

I’d accepted to give the eulogy after her words.

Now, standing at the entrance to the little chapel and greeting guests as they arrived, I was more than a little nervous to get up in front of all these people and speak about my father.

I’d spent the last week thinking about and missing him.

He was the first thing I thought of when I woke up in the morning and the last thing I thought of at night.

His passing weighed heavily on me but there was also a sense of gratitude in it all that at times made me feel a little guilty.

I was grateful that he wasn’t suffering anymore and that he wasn’t confused.

I was grateful that my brother and I had sat with him and enjoyed a final proper meal together. I was even more grateful that my father had his mind that day. I was grateful mostly to Katie, who had made all of that happen just by being herself.

More than anything, I was glad my father was able to meet her, and she him.

As more and more guests arrived in blue, my father’s favorite color, my nerves grew more intense.

I shook hands and thanked people for their condolences.

I hugged family members I hadn’t seen in years.

I joked with those who looked like their grief was about to swallow them whole and hoped that if I could smile, they certainly could too.

All the while, Katie reminded me that she was there with a soft hand on my back or shoulder. Every now and then, she’d take my hand and give it a squeeze, and I’d squeeze right back, soundlessly letting her know that I was okay.

Mike struggled with his emotions the entire time. I knew he felt guilty for not being there for our father as much as he knew he should have, but I reminded him that we were there in the end, when his mind was clear and his heart was happy and full.

What more could two sons ask for than that?

By the time the chapel was full and the service was set to start, my hands were shaking. Katie, Mike, and I took our seats in the front row, and a minister selected by my father conducted the service. It was quiet, serene, and peaceful—a proper farewell.

When the minister was done, he invited anyone up to speak. Nobody went.

Then he turned to me to read the eulogy.

Katie put her hand on my knee. “You can do this. Just look at me and read it to me like you did in the cabin a dozen times over if you get lost, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“You’ve got this,” she whispered.

I stood up and took my speech from the inside pocket of my suit jacket. I moved up the set of stairs at the front of the chapel and took my place behind the podium and the microphone.

I stared out into a sea of familiar faces. They all stared back up at me. The weight of their eyes had my throat tightening with anxiety.

I’d never been much for public speaking.

And there was a hell of a lot more pressure on me in this moment than there ever was in school when I had to stand in front of a classroom and talk about whatever dim-witted subject my teenage self thought would be interesting.

Things like professional skateboarders or life on Mars.

I cleared my throat and fixed my attention on my speech. It was only three quarters of a page, double spaced, printed out on a printer from Katie’s work.

Just start talking.

“I want to start by thanking you all for being here today. My father would have been thrilled to see all of your faces. Of course, he would have reminded you all how old you’ve gotten.”

A ripple of soft laughter went through the chapel at that, and my nerves quieted.

Katie nodded for me to keep going.

“You know, it’s a little strange to be standing up here in front of you all today.

I spent a lot of time over the last few years preparing for the moments that would follow my father’s passing.

I knew there would be preparations, calls to make, accounts to close, family members to reach out to.

And I knew I would be here with all of you and it would be on my shoulders to say something wise about my old man.

I knew it was on me to give you something you could hold on to.

Maybe to remind you of who he was before his mind got cloudy.

Maybe to remind you why you’re here.” I swallowed.

I’d read the speech a hundred times over and never felt emotional, but this was it. This was the real one.

I locked eyes with Katie.

Her eyes were glassy and her nose was pink. She had a tissue clutched in her right hand and I knew she wasn’t grieving for my father. She was grieving for me. She was feeling my pain.

I smiled at her.

“I don’t know if I’m going to do a good job of that or not today, but there are some things I want to leave you with,” I said to the chapel, but my eyes never left my girl.

“My dad taught me the value of loyalty and hard work. He taught me that all the good things in life are the things that take time to cultivate. Relationships, family, business, passion, food. All the best things take time. And he also taught me that it was fleeting, and that it did not treat us all as equals. For some, time is cruel. For others, it’s kind.

For us in this moment? Well, I don’t know about you, but I feel like time is slipping through my fingers.

Minutes ago, I was lining up toy soldiers in the backyard and shooting them off the fence with a BB gun I was definitely too young to use until the neighbors called the cops on my dad.

” I laughed at the memory, and others who’d heard the story laughed with me.

“My old man waved his fist at the neighbors and in his booming voice bellowed, ‘mind your own damn business, Marjorie, you old crone!’”

The laughter in the chapel spilled over. Katie laughed and tears spilled free and I didn’t dare look away from her.

I nodded, at peace with the truth and what time had done for me. “There’s something else I want to say today. Something I wish I could have told my father but never had the time to, so I’m going to tell all of you. I’m in love with a girl. That girl right there.” I pointed at Katie.

Her cheeks turned bright pink as she looked around.

I smiled. “I know it’s weird for me to do it like this, Katie.

I know. But it’s true. And part of me has to believe that my father is watching this shit show with his feet up on his recliner and a beer in his hand and I want him to know how crazy I am about you.

He always used to tell me that when I met the right girl, I would know it.

He warned me that she might drive me out of my mind and that she might turn my life upside down and ruin me from the inside out like our mother did him, but all you’ve done is made me better, Katie.

I think my father could see that even in the few hours you knew him. ”

Katie wiped her eyes with her tissue.

I turned my attention back to the room. “Don’t remember my dad as the man who lost his mind and slowly slipped away from us all.

Remember him as the man who laughed louder than anyone else in the room.

As the man who wasn’t afraid to tell you his opinion even if it was polarizing.

As the man who would use up his last bit of gas money to come pick you up if you were stranded.

And as the man who could give a pirate a run for his money where swearing was concerned. ”

More laughter.

I looked to my brother. “We’ve still got him with us, Mikey. I see dad in you every day, and I know I inherited some of his quirks, too. We’re going to be all right, little brother. Like Dad used to say, good things take time, and we have plenty of that under our belts, don’t we?”

My brother nodded.

I left the podium with a chest full of love and hope and pride and sat down beside the woman I knew in my soul I was going to marry one day. She took my hand, leaned in close, and kissed me like we were the only people in the chapel.

My father would have told us to get a room.