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When Beard entered Rebecca’s office on Monday morning, she had no inkling of the turn her day was about to take. The two of them had had this standing meeting, which they silently agreed to not give some cutesy, Ted-esque moniker, nearly every Monday for the past two years. So, naturally, Rebecca hadn’t known anything was off when her Monday morning began as it always did, with Beard handing her her oat milk London fog and settling into his chair with an Americano.
Their conversation meandered, or rather, Rebecca guided it, between work and not-work: The next match, Beard’s adjustment to single fatherhood, their prospects in the transfer window, and the like. After a moment of silence, which wasn’t uncommon or uncomfortable with the two of them, Beard blurted out the last thing Rebecca expected: Ted’s mother had died.
Rebecca’s mind ground to a halt. How did Beard even know? Neither of them had heard from Ted in two years.
As always, though, Beard was one step ahead of her, succinctly explaining the guilt trip riddled phone call he had received from his own mother, informing him of the arrangements and complaining about not seeing her grandchild more.
When Beard added that the funeral was today, Rebecca’s mind snapped back into sharp focus from the haze it had been in ever since Beard opened his mouth.
“What time?”
“Three o’clock.”
Rebecca quickly did the math… Twelve hours.
“I have to go.”
“Rebecca…”
“Willis.”
Beard held up his hands in surrender.
Immediately after he left, she called her driver, grabbed her handbag, and walked out the door.
~
The flight to Kansas City was already boarding when Rebecca reached the gate, immediately realizing it was the same gate where Ted had left her two years ago. She sighed. At least her first-class ticket to Kansas wouldn’t go to waste this time.
Once they were in the air, Rebecca busied herself with making arrangements in Kansas: driver, hotel, toiletries, clothes… everything she could think of. Anything to keep her mind off the fact that she had absolutely no idea what she would say to Ted when she got there.
~
When the plane finally landed in Kansas City, it was a few minutes past 2:00 PM local time. She went through passport control and found her driver in a daze. Despite the driver seeming to break multiple traffic laws in his hurry, three o’clock came and went, and she was still in the car, hurtling out of the city and into the suburbs.
~
At long last, Rebecca finds herself in a church parking lot that is filled to the brim with cars. It’s nearly half past three when she enters the building.
There are double doors in front of her that must lead to the sanctuary, but she finds herself hesitating despite her rush, the reality of where she is and what she’s doing threatening to overwhelm her. Still, she knows that she has to press on.
She takes a deep breath and opens the door.
And there he is, gripping the pulpit with white knuckles, head bowed, shoulders hunched.
If she didn’t know any better, she might think he was praying. But for better or worse, she does know better, has always known when it comes to him.
The door slams shut behind her, and Ted’s head snaps up. There is motion in her peripheral vision, too, but she hardly registers it. His eyes grow wide as they lock onto hers. Almost of its own accord, her hand comes to her chest as she takes a deep, conspicuous breath, willing him to follow suit.
On her second breath, he tears one of his hands from the pulpit, palm finding his own chest. His breathing is still far too rapid, but it seems to be slowing ever so slightly.
Everything else stops as they breathe together, as if they are the only two people in the room.
Rebecca doesn’t know how long it’s been when he tears his eyes away from her, clearing his throat. Ted begins speaking to the crowd, then, a eulogy that Rebecca hardly hears. She moves to stand against the back wall of the sanctuary, never taking her eyes off him for more than a second.
Once Ted returns to the front pew, there are hymns. Rebecca doesn’t sing.
As the family processes out, Rebecca stares blankly ahead, refusing to look at Ted as he passes. She thinks he’s doing the same.
The funeral procession is so long that Rebecca is sure the hearse reaches the cemetery before the last car has left the church.
She is careful not to let her heels sink into the grass as she makes her way to the graveside, doing her best to blend in with the crowd.
As the casket descends into the ground, Ted is stoic. He looks so much like he did his last week in Richmond that it’s as if no time has passed at all.
When people begin dispersing, part of her wants to slip away with them. She knows it’s silly, coming all this way only to avoid the man she came for, but she has the impulse just the same. Still, she lingers, looking around, anywhere but at Ted.
She notes how well maintained the granite of the double headstone by the grave is: It looks almost new, even though she knows it must be over thirty years old. She glances down and stops short when she reads “Daniel Theodore Lasso, March 6 1946 - September 13 1991.”
Her heart is in her throat and her mind is racing. What are the odds? What are the odds that Ted’s life changed forever the same day hers did? Of course, it isn’t the same. Perhaps it’s insensitive of her to make the comparison, even. She had her father for another thirty years after Ted’s died. Still, she never really had him after that day. A part of him had died to her, and her innocence with it.
She is pulled from her reverie by a throat clearing behind her. She knows who it is before she turns to face him.
“Rebecca…”
“Hi, Ted.”
He stares into her eyes for a long moment. “How did you-”
“Beard.”
Ted’s eyebrows knit for a second before he nods, seemingly in understanding. “I really appreciate you bein’ here, Rebecca, but you didn’t have to come all this way.”
“Yes I did.” Rebecca takes a deep breath. “You did the same for me when my father died and I–“ her voice cracks. “Yes, I did.”
“Rebecca you… you didn’t owe me. I hope you know I wasn’t waitin’ for you to pay me back for three years.”
Rebecca laughs bitterly. “Oh, I know, Ted. I am very well aware that our relationship was never about reciprocity.”
She can’t meet his eye, but she can tell he’s confused. He seems to know better than to ask, though.
They stand in silence for a while, Rebecca staring at the headstone.
“Did she always plan to be buried here? By your dad?”
“Yeah, she, uh, bought both plots and the headstone when he died. Cheaper that way.”
Rebecca hummed. “And she never thought she might get remarried?”
“Well, we never really talked about it. But she never dated anybody that I know of. So, I guess not.”
“She was still in love with him.” It isn’t a question, and the second it’s out of her mouth, Ted’s eyes snap up to meet hers.
His voice is thick with unshed tears: “I guess she was. Even though he left her, she–.”
Rebecca nods, tears tightening her throat now, too. “They’re back together now, at least.”
“I don’t know if I believe in all that, but I like to think so.”
“Thirty-four years is a long time to wait.”
Ted smiles in recognition. “Well, I respect she didn’t hurry.”