The Funeral

-Jacey-

I put my hand over Caleb’s as we sat in the fourth row of the church, toward the middle. Caleb had done a wonderful job with the flowers, blues and whites, and Will’s baseball memorabilia was sitting on and around the coffin. All in all, everything was beautiful.

The priest had been paid a large sum of money to ignore the fact that Will wasn’t Catholic. According to Masterson, they weren’t anything, really. But it was the only space large enough in a thirty-mile radius of their home with enough space to accommodate the big to-do Masterson wanted.

Well-wishers came to a grieving Masterson in a line that extended out of the church doors and into the street. The who’s who of business were all there to pay their respects, to Masterson and not Will. But Will’s old baseball team was here along with his coach. And