Kathleen felt a horrible dread. She knew instinctively how this day would go, yet for some unexplainable reason she felt the necessity to see the finish of Scott Buckley.
She brushed a tear away, angry that it might be taken by others as a show of grief. She turned to her mother and cousin.
“Maybe the pain will go away if I do this, stand through this agony of hearing what a wonderful man he was. God! Why did I put up with it?”
Charley’s face was hard as he looked at the pious-looking men carrying Scott’s remains. “Maybe we should go, Kathy. You don’t need to go through this farce.”
Kathleen shook her head. Her eyes were bright, unflinching. She grabbed Charley by the arm and then put her arm around her mother, and together they walked up the sidewalk and into the foyer of the church.
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