MAURA

I probably shouldn’t have stared at him as long as I did. Thomas O’Hollaren probably didn’t remember me from our teen years, and no doubt having a stranger stare you down at your father’s funeral would creep a person out. It’s just that he looked unbelievably sad and lost when I looked into his hazel eyes. It took just about everything I had to stay in that pew and not run over to hug him. Once again, probably an unwanted gesture from a stranger, but being a bleeding heart social worker, this was not the first time I’d felt compelled to break social norms and hug someone I didn’t know. Luckily for Thomas and everyone else there, I’ve learned to control this urge over the years.

I found my way out of the church and greeted my parents’ friends Bill and Judy Buckley with asmile.

“We didn’t expect to see you here,” Judy smiled back, holding Bill’sarm.

“My parents weren’t able to make it because they’re in Olympia looking in on my grandma, so my mom asked that I come,” Ireplied.

“Oh, I hope nothing’s wrong,” Judy said, her tone switching toconcern.

“No – I mean, well, Grandma’s eighty-six, so you know, just your usual stuff with getting older,” I dove in. “She had knee surgery, so they just want to make sure everything is fine. She’s in a great retirement community. I think she may even have a boyfriend.”

I paused, realizing that in my babbling I’d given the Buckleys more information than they’d probably wanted. An urge which, unlike random hugging, I unfortunately had not learned to control over theyears.

“It was a lovely service,” I said,backtracking.

“Yes, yes it was,” Bill agreed. “It’s just a shame how suddenly it happened.”

I nodded with a concernedface.