Sean Michael Rannigan was buried on a cold morning in late March. The frozen ground was bare of snow, but flurries swirled through the air on a biting breeze. Maggie found the grey day fitting for a funeral. As she watched the assortment of mourners gathered around the grave, her thoughts went back four days earlier to the day Michael had died.
There had been a blur of activity. Rosalie had made the necessary calls to the necessary parties. Attendants from the funeral home had come and discreetly ushered his body away. Maggie had been disconsolate. Bobby had held her until shed run out of tears.
By the time theyd left to pick up Savannah from school, the apartment had been restored to normal, the medical equipment packed up and hauled away. Maggie had sensed the emptiness of the place and insisted that they pack up their things and return to her apartment.