Her laugh broke the silence like a clap of thunder on a hot summer night. No one spoke. They only stared. All thinking she had officially lost her mind. Laughing at a funeral. Even if it was a funeral for her husband.
Her best friend gave a quick glare to the onlookers and wrapped an arm around Mary and escorted her outside through the back door.
Tara had been waiting for this moment ever since Mary had called her a few days ago with the news of Trevor’s death. It hadn’t been entirely unexpected. Though he was only fifty-seven he had a heart condition that Tara was unable to pronounce. What she did know was the doctors hadn’t expected him to live as an infant, then they said he would not make it past ten, then twenty, then they would just say anytime now.
“Do you want me to ask them to leave?” Tara asked. She was not entirely sure what the protocol was here. She had never had someone close to her die before.
Mary just laughed and looked out over the yard she and Trevor had taken care of for the past thirty-two years. It was their first and only house. They had held on to it during all the hard times. They nearly lost it twice. She did not know what to do with out him. How could she move on? How could it get better?
“I laugh because that’s what we did.” She confided. “If the times we hard we would laugh. If we were fighting, I mean yelling at the top of our lungs furious, one of us would crack a joke and we would laugh.”
Tara rapped her arms around Mary’s shoulders.
“What am I going to do with out him?” Mary asked as she began to sob.
“We laugh,” Tara said.