The Acceptance
Page 8

When the funeral concluded the uniformed Marines moved to the pews and let each one empty and move to the family. Tyler thought it would be best to just sneak out. He’d text her later and tell her he was there. Give details so she’d know he was telling her the truth. Maybe in a week or so they could have coffee.
He’d contemplated too long. The Marine was at his pew and those around him began to file into the line to console the family.
Unlike his brother who could handle awkward situations with ease—which was why he’d be better at running their father’s company—Tyler’s nerves kicked up even more. He wiped his palms on his pant legs as he rounded that first pew and was within feet of Courtney and her parents.
There was a constriction in his chest as Courtney’s mother looked at him with red rimmed eyes and a weak smile.
“Mrs. Field I’m…”
“Tyler.” Courtney turned toward him and her cheeks lifted as her lips curled. “You came.”
“I did,” he said, his voice teetering on amusement and shock that she could pick him out of that many people by his voice and he’d only said three words.
Courtney took her mother’s arm. “Mom, this is the man I told you about. The one I flew to Nashville with. Tyler, this is my mother Mary.”
“Tyler, it’s very nice to meet you.” Mary held her hand out to him.
“Likewise.” He shook her hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“Tyler,” Courtney reached for his hand and he offered it. “This is my father Michael.”
He was dressed in Military dress as well. That was something Tyler hadn’t expected. Tyler didn’t know rankings or what bars and pins meant, but Michael Field had plenty of them.
Tyler held his hand out to shake her father’s. As expected, her father’s grip was firm as he looked down at Tyler, who himself stood at six-foot-three.
“Sir, it is nice to meet you. I’m very sorry about the loss of your son.”
“Tyler.” He repeated his name. This was something Tyler had learned from his father. It gave him some authority and helped in remembering the name. “My family appreciates you coming. Courtney says you were a great support to her in a very dark time.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Courtney reached for him again and pulled him back to her so that she could whisper in his ear. “There is a reception after internment. It’s at our home. I’d like you to come.”
Tyler patted her hand. “Should I find you at the cemetery?”
Courtney nodded. “I’ll have my mother watch for you.”
Mary nodded as well and Tyler leaned in to Courtney and kissed her cheek. “I’ll find you.”
Courtney’s mother took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“You were right. He is cute,” she whispered to Courtney.
“I’m glad he came. I hope it’s okay I invited him to the house.”
“Of course it is.” Mary turned and Courtney knew another wave of people were there, saying the same thing: I’m sorry for your loss. He was such a great man. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.
Tyler had come through for her. She felt warm. It was the first time she’d felt that warmth since she disembarked that plane.
Tyler Benson was good people. She appreciated that.
Courtney stood by her parents’ sides for at least another twenty minutes before they followed her brother’s casket out to the waiting hearse. She could smell the sprays of flowers which her mother had meticulously explained to her in detail—mostly to keep herself calm, she knew.
There were whispers she could hear around the church. He was too young. It’s so sad. What will they do? And always there was the, It looks like Courtney’s doing well with her disability.
Those were the only times she wished she had her sight so she could look right at that person and give them a what for.
Disability her ass. Did they smell the flowers? Did they all know they shook her hand differently and a million things were said in that touch? Did they know she knew their voices? Each voice had a tone and likewise an underlying tone. Oh, her disability had her seeing things sighted people never would see. And one of those things she saw was that Tyler Benson had been one of the most genuine people at that funeral. Thank God he came.
When she’d sent the text, she wasn’t sure he would come. He’d never replied and she’d finally decided the number was wrong or he just wasn’t as interested as she thought he’d been.
She got that. After all she’d been without her sight for nearly eighteen years. That was a lot of time to learn about people. Though she was still learning, she felt as though she had quite a grasp on it.
Courtney stood with her mother and father as they loaded her brother’s casket into the hearse. She felt her father’s body stiffen as she held his arm. She assumed he had cried in private. Who wouldn’t when your son died? Especially when Fitz died. But as her mother sobbed to her side she knew her father was at attention saluting his son.
The air was changing. She could feel it. The rain would hold off until her brother was buried and his mourners had gone on. The rain would be soft and it wouldn’t last long. It would be as if the world cried for him—her—them.
Her father’s arm folded for her to take his elbow and they began to walk. The cars had started their engines and she could feel the heat that produced on her legs.
They stopped and she could feel another person with them. As her father said, “Thank you,” she knew it was the driver who had opened their door.
Her mother moved to the car first.
“The car is right at the curb. You won’t need to step off. About four steps ahead.”
Courtney gave him a nod and he placed her hand on the door of the car. She guided herself toward the opening and slowly moved until her foot was in the car and she could lower down to the seat.
Again, she was lodged between her stiff father and her sobbing mother. Another hour and she could be with Tyler, she thought. She could use some friendly conversation.
Her father moved on the seat next to her. This meant he was going to turn to her and talk to her. She was more than familiar with his precise body language.
“Do you think a yellow dress was really the most appropriate thing to wear?”