The Funeral: Chapter 8
Title: The Funeral: Chapter 8
Authors: shelbecat and rachel_wilder
Rating: T (aka PG-13)
Summary: Continuing from Reunion and The Wedding, we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach The Funeral.
The Funeral
Chapter 8
August, 2024
Tim pushed open the door to their hotel room, balancing the tray of coffees in his hand. Gone were the days where he had to worry about twisting awkwardly on his bad knee, but juggling three coffees, an apple juice, and breakfast to go for him and Tyra was still difficult.
Jake poked his head out of the covers on his bed and looked sleepily over at Tim. "One of them for me?" he asked.
"Coffee stunts your growth," Tim replied, handing his son a paper cup anyway. Jake was almost as tall as Tim already, and still growing fast. He had all of Tyra and Tim's height combined. And was a damn fine tight end because of it.
"I saw Anne and Jade in the restaurant downstairs. Why don't you take Hannah down for breakfast?" Tim asked, pouring the bottle of apple juice in one of Hannah's cups.
"I need a shower," Jake said, rubbing his hand through his hair roughly.
Tim glanced at the closed bathroom door to make sure Tyra wasn't listening. "I need to talk to Mom." He handed Jake a wad of bills from his jeans pocket. "Make sure Hannah eats some fruit."
Jake looked like he was going to protest, but Tim knew his son couldn't resist a full plate of eggs and bacon. Truthfully, he'd rather eat a real breakfast down in the restaurant himself than munching on a muffin while he tried to talk to Tyra. But he wanted to clear the air with her.
"I am having pancakes with whipped cream," Hannah announced as Jake reached out for her hand.
Tim handed her the cup of apple juice. "And strawberries," he reminded Jake.
Jake nodded, still slurping his coffee to wake up. So much like his parents, Tim thought as he brought Tyra's coffee over to the bathroom door. It never failed to amaze him.
Knocking on the door, he only had to wait a second before Tyra opened it. She was freshly showered and wrapped in one of the hotel's robes. Her face was pink from the steam still clinging to the walls. For the first time since they had woken up to the terrible news, she looked fresh and revitalized. Like the way she looked when Landry was still alive.
"Where are the kids?" Tyra asked as she rubbed the towel against her wet hair.
"Jake took Hannah down to get something to eat. "
"I hope he doesn't just fill her up on sugar and carbs," Tyra said. "Did you get coffee?"
Tim handed her the steaming cup of coffee. "Anne was down there. I asked her to try and get both of them to eat a little fruit."
Tyra smiled and pulled a brush through her hair. "Thanks," she said, holding up the coffee cup before taking a sip. "I needed this."
"Yeah," Tim echoed, taking a sip of his own drink. He was quiet for a few minutes, watching Tyra work on her hair and makeup. Finally he cleared his throat. "So, about this will…"
Sighing, Tyra laid down her brush and picked up her coffee cup again. She cradled it against her chest as she turned to lean in the doorway. "Are you going to get past this, or what?"
Tim grew instantly defensive. "What? Get over Landry giving us a pile of money? What's to get over?"
"Tim," Tyra said, shaking her head. "I know you don't like the fact that this looks like we need a hand-out, or whatever. But that's not what it is. He was just trying to help us out."
"Yeah, well, we don't need his help," Tim replied, standing up to walk towards the window.
"No, we don't. But does it hurt us?"
Tim bit his lip, staring out the window at the city of Dillon sprawling before him ten floors below. He had worked hard to be able to provide for his family over the years. Hell, he had worked hard just to have a family at all, and wherever he turned Landry was there; with a bigger house, and more money, and the best gifts for Jake and Hannah at every birthday. Not to mention the tennis bracelet that Tyra was wearing today. Landry had given it to her on her last birthday. Tim had taken her out to dinner and bought her flowers. Landry commemorated the occasion with gold and diamonds.
"Does it?" he finally asked Tyra, turning to look back at her. Did Landry's money change who they were? They were still paying off their mortgage-the way Tyra made it sound, they would probably own their own home and Landry's too.
"Tim," Tyra said softly, crossing the room to stand before him. Her hand reached up to lie on his chest, the tennis bracelet resting around her wrist. "We can pay for Jake to go to whatever school he wants. Full ride. He won't have to worry about a scholarship, or finding a cheap apartment off campus. And there's a private school I'd like to look into for Hannah. She can have the best education we can give her."
"Landry can give her," Tim corrected.
Tyra pulled away slightly and followed Tim's gaze out the window. "I don't know about you, but I don't really feel all that nostalgic about growing up with nothing. I don't have those fond childhood memories about food stamps or free lunch or the ladies from church who used to bring presents at Christmas that were marked 'girl age 8' rather than with my name on them."
That was his worst fear-not being able to provide for his kids. Having to rely on handouts like his family had. And this was like admitting he couldn't provide for them. It was too hard.
"It's not like that for us," Tim replied.
Tyra nodded slightly and let a small smile cross her face. "And I know that. I love the life we've been able to make together for our kids, but Landry always knew how afraid I was about having to live like that again. It was hard at first-when Jake was little and Landry promised me that when he was famous I'd never have to worry again. He's just living up to that promise. Just let him do that for all of us.
"It doesn't have to change us," Tyra added, but she sounded unsure.
Tim reached out and pulled her close to his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "Promise me it won't," he said into her hair.
"I promise," Tyra replied.
Her voice cracked as she spoke and Tim felt her body shake within his arms. She cried softly into his shirt, dampening the front with her tears. And Tim didn't care. He stood there silently and rubbed her back as she cried, tears filling his own eyes as well. Damn Landry anyway for going out and getting himself killed. Jake and Hannah could have the best money could buy, but it would never make up for not having Landry in their lives. Tim didn't care if they ever saw a cent of that money-he just wanted Landry back.
Buddy pulled his big SUV up in the driveway and shut it off. The Streets' house looked quiet.
The door opened and Lyla stepped out with the little boy-with little Dylan. Buddy picked up his sunglasses and slipped them on, then released his seatbelt and got out of the truck.
"Hey Daddy," Lyla said. "We're walking down to the park. You want to come with us?"
The little boy looked up at him-he almost seemed a little nervous and he was holding Lyla's hand tightly.
"That'd be nice, baby," he replied.
They walked down the street without saying much. It was going to be a hot day, but now it was pleasant with a light breeze. A good day for going to the park. He tried not to think about the funeral they all had to go to later.
They entered the playground and Lyla paused.
"Do you want to go play on the slide?" she asked Dylan.
Dylan nodded his head, but Buddy thought he still looked a little uncertain.
"Grandpa and I will be right here on the bench," she assured him. Dylan paused, then ran over to the slide and began climbing up the steps.
Grandpa. The word sounded foreign coming from Lyla's lips. Tabby had given him a granddaughter years ago, and Buddy Junior had had a son just last year. But Lyla, his eldest, had suffered so much. He thought it would never happen for her.
"Nice boy, honey," Buddy said as he sat down on the bench.
"Yeah," Lyla said as she sat down next to him.
Buddy was quiet, trying to figure out what to say. This was so sudden. Two more grandkids and no word at all about their parents. It was hard for him to take in.
"So, do you know much about him? Where he came from?"
Lyla cast a sidelong glance at him. "Does that matter?"
Buddy looked at his daughter and smiled. "You love him already, don't you?"
Lyla nodded. "I do-we do."
Buddy looked over where the little boy was climbing on the playground equipment. "I'm awfully happy for you, honey. But I do worry about you-it's a lot to have two little ones all of a sudden and if they came from a tough situation…" He only wanted the best for his daughter, but he worried about what she and Jason had taken on.
Lyla slid her hand in Buddy's. "We know it might not be easy, but we wanted a family-we wanted it so bad, Daddy."
"And I'm sorry Jason couldn't give you the babies you wanted, your own natural babies I mean," Buddy replied.
Lyla pulled her hand from Buddy's. "It wasn't just Jason, Daddy. I was the one who lost Jesse. I was the one who couldn't get pregnant again."
That wasn't what he had meant-he hadn't meant to say-oh, why was it so hard?
"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean…"
"I know, Daddy," Lyla replied. "It's just-it's just still a really sensitive thing, so I need to know that you are going to love Dylan and Emma just like you do the rest of your grandchildren."
Buddy nodded. "Of course, Lyla."
"Hey, Dylan," Lyla said as the little boy walked up to them. "What do you need?"
Dylan pointed at Buddy. "Can he help me on the swing?"
"I'm your Grandpa Buddy, son," Buddy replied. "And I am very good at pushing little boys on swings."
Buddy stood up and reached out for the little boy's hand. Dylan was hesitant at first, then slipped it into Buddy's big hand.
Families were made in many ways, that was true. And for now the thing that mattered more than anything was that Lyla finally had her family.
Julie's small hand slipped into Matt's and he looked down, surprised. He felt like he was floating above his body. Like this scene outside of the church that looked more like a mob than a group of mourners couldn't possibly be real. Couldn't possibly be for Landry.
"How you doin', son?" Eric's strong hand clamped down on Matt's shoulder.
He couldn't respond. If he opened his mouth to speak he'd cry.
"It's a hard thing," Eric continued, his eyes shielded behind sunglasses.
At his side, Tami pulled her arms tight across her body as if she were cold, but the sun was shining brightly. She pressed one hand to her mouth.
"All these people," she said. "Landry touched a lot of lives."
"A lot of people thought he touched their lives," Matt scoffed.
"Ah, come on now, son," Eric said. "You know he always wanted people to know his name."
Matt tried to smile but he was sure it came out more like a grimace. Eric was right though-Landry had come a long way from high school when Coach Taylor never could get his name right.
"What was it you called him?" Julie asked.
Eric's face took on a blank look like he had no clue about what they were talking about.
"Oh yeah, you never could get his name right, hon," Tami said.
"I knew his name," Eric said, defensively.
"Oh come on, you always called him Larry or something, right?" Julie asked.
"Lance," Matt said beneath his breath.
"What?" Julie and Tami asked in unison.
Matt looked up, glancing out at the crowd of strangers flooding towards the church. The group who only knew Landry Clarke, Superstar. Not Landry Clarke, simple small-town boy.
"You called him Lance," Matt said to his father-in law. "He used to say 'I always knew I was invisible'." At the memory, Matt smiled, then felt a choking feeling rushing through his chest. He was not going to cry out here in the parking lot. He owed it to Landry to get through his service in one piece and deliver a eulogy fitting of his friend.
Tugging on Julie's arm, he turned towards the steps. Tami and Eric followed behind them. An usher led Matt and Julie to the very front of the church where Tyra, Tim and Jake were already sitting on one end of the front pew, with Landry's parents down at the other end. Matt look a seat beside Chad Clarke, avoiding looking at the man's tear-stained face.
The pastor began the service almost immediately and Matt was thankful for things getting started. Beside him he felt Landry's father shake with emotion, but he tried to keep strong. Too soon his name was being called to read the eulogy. Slowly, he made his way up the carpeted steps to the pulpit. The church was packed wall-to-wall
Every spare space was filled by someone who wanted a piece of Landry-by a reporter or fan or someone who claimed to be mourning the loss of someone they only knew from the media.
What a joke.
Clearing his throat, he reached into his breast pocket for the cards with his eulogy on it. It was pathetically short. Facts and statistics to describe a person that words could never do justice to. He glanced up quickly, catching Julie's eye as she stared at him from her seat in the front pew. She smiled and nodded, just slightly. Confidence. He could do this.
Leaving the cards in his pocket, he gripped the sides of the pulpit with his hands and stared out over the crowd. He recognized a few faces, Tim, Tyra and Jake sitting with Julie and Landry's parents in the front pew. Coach and Tami, Jason and Lyla, Smash and his mother. Landry's band mates and manager. People who knew and loved him.
He focused on those few faces as he began to speak.
"Many of you may not know me, and I think that's because many of you don't know the real Landry Clarke. Sure he was a member of Hometown Hero, and he played in your stadiums and sat for your interviews. But I knew him before he was somebody special, back when he was just a pimply-faced kid that didn't fit in…back when he was special to all the people that mattered.
"Landry's greatest dream was to be somebody, to matter to someone. A long time ago, when he first moved to Nashville and started playing with his band, he told me that it was finally happening. He was finally going to matter to somebody outside of Dillon."
Matt paused to compose himself.
"But he already mattered to someone far more important. He called me one night; this was a few years ago, just after our 10-year Reunion. It was late, like 3 AM-Landry always got straight As in high school but he could never figure out the time zones when he was traveling."
A low laugh rippled through the crowd.
"He called and he told me, 'Matty, I think my girl's in love.'"
Matt looked down at Tyra sitting in the front pew, her head buried against Tim's shoulder.
"And you weren't his girl, Tyra. You were never really his, and he knew that. And he loved you anyway. He loved you and Jake so much and for so long you were family he'd always wanted to have. I think playing Dad, being a stand-in dad before Tim came back into your life, was one of his greatest accomplishments. And for you all to keep him in your life, for so long…that made him matter more than anything else. That made him happy."
Tyra's body shook with sobs and Matt watched as Tim pulled her closer to his chest. Matt felt like crying right along with her. It was too hard to think about why he was up here saying these words.
Reaching back into his breast pocket, he rifled past the cue cards until his fingers closed over a photograph. He pulled it out and stared at it for a moment. It had been taken almost 18 years ago, at the start of their sophomore year when Landry had come to pick Matt up for his first football practice. Matt's grandmother had wanted to capture the moment-the moment her baby would become a football star.
Landry's face was wrinkled up, his eyes squinted in that perennial way he always had of smiling back then. Matt looked bored, standing just close enough to Landry to fit in the frame. Behind them sat the old station wagon-the closest thing they had to freedom back then. He held the picture tight in his hand and looked out at the crowd again.
"You know, Landry always joked that he was my sidekick. Could never get out of the shadow of Matt Saracen, QB1." Matt looked down at Jason who smiled and nodded his head.
"He had to come to that 10-year football reunion as my guest. They even printed it on his name tag." Matt smiled for the first time since he started speaking. "Don't think he let me live that one down."
He looked back down at the picture; at Landry staring back up at him. "But Landry didn't play second-fiddle to anyone. He was always the talker. If he were here right now he'd have you laughing in the aisles over some high school memory, probably involving a few too many beers."
The crowd laughed lightly again, but Matt felt tears rise in his throat instead. He shook his head and tried to push out his last words. "He was never my sidekick; I was his. And I would've been happy to live in his shadow for the rest of my life. Landry was just that kind of guy. He never made you feel small, or any less than what you were. Instead, you just felt happy that he was your friend. And you smiled. He made you smile.
"I'm going to miss him. I'll miss my friend." Matt looked up at the ceiling, smiling through the tears dripping down his face. "And don't think we don't all know that you're lovin' every minute of this. Going out like Buddy Holly. You had to find some way to get one last joke in. I love you, Landry. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for being my friend."
Smash looked down the long table spread with food and sighed. Where was it written that you had to gain 10 pounds during a funeral?
Apparently somewhere in the Church Ladies handbook because there was enough food in the church hall to feed a small army.
Shaking his head, he piled a roll on top of his already crowded plate and headed off to find a seat. He might as well join the masses and drown his grief with food-Landry would find it hysterical if all his friends gained weight because of this.
"Hey, Smash, anything good up there?"
Jason wheeled up next to him just as he found an empty chair.
"Oh man," Smash replied, tipping his plate slightly. "Only if you count three different kinds of fried chicken as good. I am going to have to hit the gym hard after this week."
Jason laughed. "You still working out all the time? Keeping busy?"
Smash shrugged and scooped a forkful of coleslaw into his mouth. "You know, old habits I guess. Kind of hard not having something to train for, but I can't give it up."
He'd made the decision to retire at the end of last season on his own accord. A lot of people had written him off a few years back when he went in for rehab. But he'd been able to bounce back from that, through no small amount of hard work, and a hell of a lot of sweat and tears. The Houston Texans were no New York Giants; not even a shot at the playoffs, let alone the two Super Bowl rings he had won in New York, but there was less pressure to excel. And that was exactly what he had needed to finish out his career.
"You ever think about coaching? Or playing arena ball?" Jason asked.
"Nah," Smash replied. "I don't have the patience for coaching, and arena isn't really my style. I had the limelight once, never really did me any good."
"Come on now, you've got to miss it a little."
Smash smiled. "You fishing for a certain answer here, Street, or what?"
"I'm fishing for someone to front our new campaign. We're trying to get into twice as many schools this year, showcase the foundation and encourage kids to apply…and parents to donate. We could use a famous face."
"Even one from the Texans?"
"Everyone remembers the Giants' years; you're too hard on yourself."
Smash shook his head. It was hard to remember the years before drugs had almost stolen his career away. He'd been flying-on booze, women (in public), men (in private)…and the drugs. It was a fast life and it had burned him out. He wasn't sure he was ready to put his face back out there.
"Think about it," Jason said, backing away. "No pressure, but it does pay pretty good."
Smash laughed as Street moved off towards Lyla. One thing he didn't need was the pay check; he'd been smart enough to save money for his eventual retirement. But maybe it would be good to share his story with kids, show them that you could overcome any obstacle if you tried hard enough.
Looking down, Smash pushed his plate away and stood up. If he was going to preach about hard work and discipline, he had to start with himself. Tomorrow, he was back on the diet.
Tim set his plate and coffee cup down on the counter in the kitchen. He could hear someone in the Sunday School room next door. He took a couple of steps to check it out-it sounded like Jay.
"Okay, I know we can do this. Oh, don't cry little girl."
"You need some help?" Tim asked as he stepped in the room. Jason was sitting in front of one of the lower tables with Emma on a blanket in front of him.
"Uh…yeah, maybe," Jason replied. "I know I should be able to do this, but it's not the best set up and I'm afraid she might roll off before I can get the new diaper on her with these mitten hands of mine."
Tim smiled and eased over to the table where Emma lay, her wet diaper lying open underneath her. He pulled up one of the little chairs and sat down.
"Well, the first thing to know is that you're lucky she's a girl. She's much less likely to squirt you while you get the new diaper on. These new diapers are also easier to use because you get more than one try to get them on in the right spot."
"You sound like an expert, Riggins."
"Many nights of practice, Street." Tim looked at Jason seriously. "Many, many nights."
Jason laughed. "A hands-on dad, I love it!"
Tim laughed and reached to shift Emma slightly on the blanket. "First, let's get her off this diaper," he instructed. "Can you take her feet with your right hand?"
Jason cupped his hand around Emma's little feet, his fingers on this hand working a bit better.
"Okay, now lift her and then pull the old diaper out with your left hand."
Jason lifted her up a bit and managed to pinch his thumb and finger around the wet diaper and pull it out.
"We'll deal with that later," Tim said as the diaper fell to the floor. Tim reached for the wipes and handed one to Jason. "Okay, take this and wipe her. You want to go from front to back."
Jason carefully wiped Emma. "Okay, now what?"
Tim pulled out a new diaper. "Okay, you need to get these tabs open."
Jason tried to get his stubborn fingers around the small tab so he could loosen it from the diaper. "This isn't going to work."
"Use your teeth," Tim advised.
Jason lifted the diaper and easily pulled the tabs loose on each side using his teeth.
"Okay, so lift her up again and get the diaper down under her," Tim explained.
This was going to be the hard part. He watched as Jason carefully lifted the baby up and then pushed the diaper underneath the baby. Emma just stared at both of them with her big dark eyes.
"She's not going to break, Six."
"You sure?" Jason asked.
Tim laughed. He remembered going through all this with Hannah when she was first born. He thought he was going to break her every time he tried to pick her up. It took a while to find that comfort zone with such a delicate thing.
"Nah, she'll be fine. She'll cry…a lot. And she won't sleep…a lot."
"Sleepless nights with Hannah?" Jason asked.
"Only…" Tim paused to look at his watch. "Three years worth, I guess?"
"Oh man," Jason replied, shaking his head.
"Nah, you don't mind that much. They're real cute when then finally fall asleep on you," Tim said, grinning. "But don't tell Tyra that. Emma's going to give her baby fever!
"Now let's get this diaper on her before the girls come in and try to tell us how to do this. You got this, Street. Lift the front up with your left hand and then bring the tabs in," Tim instructed.
Jason focused on the little tab. Tim could tell that he was willing his fingers to close around the little tab.
"Dammit," Jason said as he lost the tab again.
"Careful," Tim said. "You don't want her picking up bad habits."
Jason slowly pulled the tab forward again, concentrating until finally he was able to press it into the front of the diaper closing the side. "One down, one to go," he said.
"Jason?"
Both men turned their heads at the sound of Lyla's voice outside.
"Okay, get the other side before she comes," Tim coached Jason. "You'll get major brownie points if you're already changing diapers."
"Jason?" Lyla called as she walked in the room. "Oh, here you are."
Tim finished snapping the grippers on the bottom of Emma's dress and picked her up,
"You catch a dirty diaper?" Lyla asked. "Of course I'm sure you're an expert with little girls now, Tim."
Tim smiled down at baby Emma's face, then stood up and slid her into Jason's waiting arms.
"I didn't change the diaper. I just coached," Tim explained.
"You did it?" Lyla asked Jason, a look of confusion crossing her face.
Jason held the baby to his chest while Tim helped him with the clips on the baby front carrier. "I did."
He looked up at Tim and smiled. "I had a good instructor."
Tami leaned in and gave Lyla a long hug.
"Just remember it doesn't need to take a major life event for us to get together," she said as she stepped back from Lyla. She leaned down and gave Jason a light kiss on the cheek and brushed her fingers across the soft hair of a sleeping baby Emma, tucked in the Snugli Jason was wearing. "And I'm going to need to spend more time with these children."
"Tyra suggested we all come back for Homecoming this year," Lyla replied.
"And I think the foundation might have some big news coming soon," Jason added. "We might have to have a big party to announce our latest effort."
"I saw you talking to Smash," Eric stated. "I think starting a substance abuse program is a great idea, Jason and Smash is the perfect person to work with you."
"At what point do you stop being the football captain?" Tami asked.
Jason just smiled and shook his head. "That's not it," he added.
"It's a good thing, Jason," Tami replied. "You take good care of your friends."
"Okay, I've got one sleeping child in the car," Lyla said as she unclipped the side clasp on the baby carrier. Let me get this little one in her seat and we'll be on our way."
She lifted the baby from the carrier, trying not to wake her.
"You headed out?" Tim asked as he walked up to the group next to Jason and Lyla's car.
"Yeah," Jason said. "Lyla's mom is coming back from Alaska tonight and we want to catch her at the airport in Dallas. When are you headed back?"
Tim shrugged. "I'm not quite sure. Tyra has to handle a couple of things with Landry's parents and the estate, but we need to be back in Nashville by next week for the memorial service up there."
"You have time to spend the night on the way back?" Jason asked.
Tim fixed his eyes on his friend, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. We do." He took Jason's outstretched hand in his, leaned in and hugged his friend. "We'll call you."
Jason transferred into the car. Lyla finished putting Emma in her car seat and came around to get Jason's wheelchair. As she opened the back of the hatch in the car, Jason rolled down his window.
"I've tried to avoid it for years, but I guess it's time to get that minivan," he said.
Eric chuckled and nodded his head. "It's worth it," he replied.
"Absolutely," Tim echoed.
With another wave, Lyla put the car in gear and they headed out of the parking lot toward Dallas.
"Where is Tyra?" Tami asked, looking around at the people walking toward their cars.
Tim pointed toward the rear of the church. "She's talking to Julie and Matt-making some plans for tonight, I think."
"You take care of her," Tami said.
"Of course, ma'am," Tim replied.
"Come see us next time you come through," Eric said as he clapped his hand on Tim's shoulder.
"And you're invited to come see us in Nashville any time," Tim responded.
"Homecoming," Tami said as she reached up to give Tim a hug. "We should all come."
"We'll need a bigger house!" Julie said as she neared the group.
Matt smiled and wrapped his arm around Julie's waist. "We can always rent out that cabin again."
"Ew," Julie replied, wrinkling her nose. "It was good for us, but I have seen enough of that deer to last me a lifetime!"
Tyra smiled as she leaned against Tim's side. "Ready to go?" she asked.
"Yeah," Tim replied. "Jake's got Hannah in the car already. We should feed her before she gets too cranky."
"And then sleep," Tyra added. "Lots of sleep."
"You take care of yourself," Tami said, leaning in to hug Tyra. "And you call me if you need anything…anything at all."
Tyra nodded.
Tami turned to Julie and pulled her daughter tight into her arms. "Sorry we have to leave so soon."
"Thanks for staying the whole time," Julie replied, burying her face into her mother's shoulder.
"Of course, hon.
For Landry…" Tami took a deep breath and shook her head. "No more tears, right?" she said, looking from Julie to Tyra.
"No more tears, Mrs. T," Tyra replied.
"Landry wouldn't want it," Julie added.
"Okay, well we should hit the road," Eric said.
He shook hands with Matt and gave Julie a hug. "You tell EJ and Andrew that Grandpa will call tonight. And they better be asleep!"
Matt laughed. "Right! They only listen to you, it doesn't work if I threaten them!"
Eric smiled and climbed into the car.
Tami looked around one last time at Tim and Tyra, and Julie and Matt. This week had been tough on them, it had been tough on all of them. But she knew they would be okay. There were bonds of friendship here that ran deeper than distance, deeper than time and separation. They were going to make it through this together.
And that's what Landry would have wanted. For them all to be together.
"Take care," she called as she slid into the car. She stared behind her as the church faded into the distance until she finally couldn't see Julie and everyone standing outside.
Eric reached over and placed a hand on her leg, squeezing gently.
"You okay?" he asked.
Tami smiled, pausing to make sure she didn't cry as she replied. "I will be," she finally said. "We all will."
/fin/
Disclaimer: All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.
Authors' Note: Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, devilc. This is the end of the Reunion trilogy. We started this story in February 2007 and have loved every moment of writing it. Thanks for coming along for the ride.
Authors: shelbecat and rachel_wilder
Rating: T (aka PG-13)
Summary: Continuing from Reunion and The Wedding, we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach The Funeral.
The Funeral
Chapter 8
August, 2024
Tim pushed open the door to their hotel room, balancing the tray of coffees in his hand. Gone were the days where he had to worry about twisting awkwardly on his bad knee, but juggling three coffees, an apple juice, and breakfast to go for him and Tyra was still difficult.
Jake poked his head out of the covers on his bed and looked sleepily over at Tim. "One of them for me?" he asked.
"Coffee stunts your growth," Tim replied, handing his son a paper cup anyway. Jake was almost as tall as Tim already, and still growing fast. He had all of Tyra and Tim's height combined. And was a damn fine tight end because of it.
"I saw Anne and Jade in the restaurant downstairs. Why don't you take Hannah down for breakfast?" Tim asked, pouring the bottle of apple juice in one of Hannah's cups.
"I need a shower," Jake said, rubbing his hand through his hair roughly.
Tim glanced at the closed bathroom door to make sure Tyra wasn't listening. "I need to talk to Mom." He handed Jake a wad of bills from his jeans pocket. "Make sure Hannah eats some fruit."
Jake looked like he was going to protest, but Tim knew his son couldn't resist a full plate of eggs and bacon. Truthfully, he'd rather eat a real breakfast down in the restaurant himself than munching on a muffin while he tried to talk to Tyra. But he wanted to clear the air with her.
"I am having pancakes with whipped cream," Hannah announced as Jake reached out for her hand.
Tim handed her the cup of apple juice. "And strawberries," he reminded Jake.
Jake nodded, still slurping his coffee to wake up. So much like his parents, Tim thought as he brought Tyra's coffee over to the bathroom door. It never failed to amaze him.
Knocking on the door, he only had to wait a second before Tyra opened it. She was freshly showered and wrapped in one of the hotel's robes. Her face was pink from the steam still clinging to the walls. For the first time since they had woken up to the terrible news, she looked fresh and revitalized. Like the way she looked when Landry was still alive.
"Where are the kids?" Tyra asked as she rubbed the towel against her wet hair.
"Jake took Hannah down to get something to eat. "
"I hope he doesn't just fill her up on sugar and carbs," Tyra said. "Did you get coffee?"
Tim handed her the steaming cup of coffee. "Anne was down there. I asked her to try and get both of them to eat a little fruit."
Tyra smiled and pulled a brush through her hair. "Thanks," she said, holding up the coffee cup before taking a sip. "I needed this."
"Yeah," Tim echoed, taking a sip of his own drink. He was quiet for a few minutes, watching Tyra work on her hair and makeup. Finally he cleared his throat. "So, about this will…"
Sighing, Tyra laid down her brush and picked up her coffee cup again. She cradled it against her chest as she turned to lean in the doorway. "Are you going to get past this, or what?"
Tim grew instantly defensive. "What? Get over Landry giving us a pile of money? What's to get over?"
"Tim," Tyra said, shaking her head. "I know you don't like the fact that this looks like we need a hand-out, or whatever. But that's not what it is. He was just trying to help us out."
"Yeah, well, we don't need his help," Tim replied, standing up to walk towards the window.
"No, we don't. But does it hurt us?"
Tim bit his lip, staring out the window at the city of Dillon sprawling before him ten floors below. He had worked hard to be able to provide for his family over the years. Hell, he had worked hard just to have a family at all, and wherever he turned Landry was there; with a bigger house, and more money, and the best gifts for Jake and Hannah at every birthday. Not to mention the tennis bracelet that Tyra was wearing today. Landry had given it to her on her last birthday. Tim had taken her out to dinner and bought her flowers. Landry commemorated the occasion with gold and diamonds.
"Does it?" he finally asked Tyra, turning to look back at her. Did Landry's money change who they were? They were still paying off their mortgage-the way Tyra made it sound, they would probably own their own home and Landry's too.
"Tim," Tyra said softly, crossing the room to stand before him. Her hand reached up to lie on his chest, the tennis bracelet resting around her wrist. "We can pay for Jake to go to whatever school he wants. Full ride. He won't have to worry about a scholarship, or finding a cheap apartment off campus. And there's a private school I'd like to look into for Hannah. She can have the best education we can give her."
"Landry can give her," Tim corrected.
Tyra pulled away slightly and followed Tim's gaze out the window. "I don't know about you, but I don't really feel all that nostalgic about growing up with nothing. I don't have those fond childhood memories about food stamps or free lunch or the ladies from church who used to bring presents at Christmas that were marked 'girl age 8' rather than with my name on them."
That was his worst fear-not being able to provide for his kids. Having to rely on handouts like his family had. And this was like admitting he couldn't provide for them. It was too hard.
"It's not like that for us," Tim replied.
Tyra nodded slightly and let a small smile cross her face. "And I know that. I love the life we've been able to make together for our kids, but Landry always knew how afraid I was about having to live like that again. It was hard at first-when Jake was little and Landry promised me that when he was famous I'd never have to worry again. He's just living up to that promise. Just let him do that for all of us.
"It doesn't have to change us," Tyra added, but she sounded unsure.
Tim reached out and pulled her close to his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "Promise me it won't," he said into her hair.
"I promise," Tyra replied.
Her voice cracked as she spoke and Tim felt her body shake within his arms. She cried softly into his shirt, dampening the front with her tears. And Tim didn't care. He stood there silently and rubbed her back as she cried, tears filling his own eyes as well. Damn Landry anyway for going out and getting himself killed. Jake and Hannah could have the best money could buy, but it would never make up for not having Landry in their lives. Tim didn't care if they ever saw a cent of that money-he just wanted Landry back.
Buddy pulled his big SUV up in the driveway and shut it off. The Streets' house looked quiet.
The door opened and Lyla stepped out with the little boy-with little Dylan. Buddy picked up his sunglasses and slipped them on, then released his seatbelt and got out of the truck.
"Hey Daddy," Lyla said. "We're walking down to the park. You want to come with us?"
The little boy looked up at him-he almost seemed a little nervous and he was holding Lyla's hand tightly.
"That'd be nice, baby," he replied.
They walked down the street without saying much. It was going to be a hot day, but now it was pleasant with a light breeze. A good day for going to the park. He tried not to think about the funeral they all had to go to later.
They entered the playground and Lyla paused.
"Do you want to go play on the slide?" she asked Dylan.
Dylan nodded his head, but Buddy thought he still looked a little uncertain.
"Grandpa and I will be right here on the bench," she assured him. Dylan paused, then ran over to the slide and began climbing up the steps.
Grandpa. The word sounded foreign coming from Lyla's lips. Tabby had given him a granddaughter years ago, and Buddy Junior had had a son just last year. But Lyla, his eldest, had suffered so much. He thought it would never happen for her.
"Nice boy, honey," Buddy said as he sat down on the bench.
"Yeah," Lyla said as she sat down next to him.
Buddy was quiet, trying to figure out what to say. This was so sudden. Two more grandkids and no word at all about their parents. It was hard for him to take in.
"So, do you know much about him? Where he came from?"
Lyla cast a sidelong glance at him. "Does that matter?"
Buddy looked at his daughter and smiled. "You love him already, don't you?"
Lyla nodded. "I do-we do."
Buddy looked over where the little boy was climbing on the playground equipment. "I'm awfully happy for you, honey. But I do worry about you-it's a lot to have two little ones all of a sudden and if they came from a tough situation…" He only wanted the best for his daughter, but he worried about what she and Jason had taken on.
Lyla slid her hand in Buddy's. "We know it might not be easy, but we wanted a family-we wanted it so bad, Daddy."
"And I'm sorry Jason couldn't give you the babies you wanted, your own natural babies I mean," Buddy replied.
Lyla pulled her hand from Buddy's. "It wasn't just Jason, Daddy. I was the one who lost Jesse. I was the one who couldn't get pregnant again."
That wasn't what he had meant-he hadn't meant to say-oh, why was it so hard?
"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean…"
"I know, Daddy," Lyla replied. "It's just-it's just still a really sensitive thing, so I need to know that you are going to love Dylan and Emma just like you do the rest of your grandchildren."
Buddy nodded. "Of course, Lyla."
"Hey, Dylan," Lyla said as the little boy walked up to them. "What do you need?"
Dylan pointed at Buddy. "Can he help me on the swing?"
"I'm your Grandpa Buddy, son," Buddy replied. "And I am very good at pushing little boys on swings."
Buddy stood up and reached out for the little boy's hand. Dylan was hesitant at first, then slipped it into Buddy's big hand.
Families were made in many ways, that was true. And for now the thing that mattered more than anything was that Lyla finally had her family.
Julie's small hand slipped into Matt's and he looked down, surprised. He felt like he was floating above his body. Like this scene outside of the church that looked more like a mob than a group of mourners couldn't possibly be real. Couldn't possibly be for Landry.
"How you doin', son?" Eric's strong hand clamped down on Matt's shoulder.
He couldn't respond. If he opened his mouth to speak he'd cry.
"It's a hard thing," Eric continued, his eyes shielded behind sunglasses.
At his side, Tami pulled her arms tight across her body as if she were cold, but the sun was shining brightly. She pressed one hand to her mouth.
"All these people," she said. "Landry touched a lot of lives."
"A lot of people thought he touched their lives," Matt scoffed.
"Ah, come on now, son," Eric said. "You know he always wanted people to know his name."
Matt tried to smile but he was sure it came out more like a grimace. Eric was right though-Landry had come a long way from high school when Coach Taylor never could get his name right.
"What was it you called him?" Julie asked.
Eric's face took on a blank look like he had no clue about what they were talking about.
"Oh yeah, you never could get his name right, hon," Tami said.
"I knew his name," Eric said, defensively.
"Oh come on, you always called him Larry or something, right?" Julie asked.
"Lance," Matt said beneath his breath.
"What?" Julie and Tami asked in unison.
Matt looked up, glancing out at the crowd of strangers flooding towards the church. The group who only knew Landry Clarke, Superstar. Not Landry Clarke, simple small-town boy.
"You called him Lance," Matt said to his father-in law. "He used to say 'I always knew I was invisible'." At the memory, Matt smiled, then felt a choking feeling rushing through his chest. He was not going to cry out here in the parking lot. He owed it to Landry to get through his service in one piece and deliver a eulogy fitting of his friend.
Tugging on Julie's arm, he turned towards the steps. Tami and Eric followed behind them. An usher led Matt and Julie to the very front of the church where Tyra, Tim and Jake were already sitting on one end of the front pew, with Landry's parents down at the other end. Matt look a seat beside Chad Clarke, avoiding looking at the man's tear-stained face.
The pastor began the service almost immediately and Matt was thankful for things getting started. Beside him he felt Landry's father shake with emotion, but he tried to keep strong. Too soon his name was being called to read the eulogy. Slowly, he made his way up the carpeted steps to the pulpit. The church was packed wall-to-wall
Every spare space was filled by someone who wanted a piece of Landry-by a reporter or fan or someone who claimed to be mourning the loss of someone they only knew from the media.
What a joke.
Clearing his throat, he reached into his breast pocket for the cards with his eulogy on it. It was pathetically short. Facts and statistics to describe a person that words could never do justice to. He glanced up quickly, catching Julie's eye as she stared at him from her seat in the front pew. She smiled and nodded, just slightly. Confidence. He could do this.
Leaving the cards in his pocket, he gripped the sides of the pulpit with his hands and stared out over the crowd. He recognized a few faces, Tim, Tyra and Jake sitting with Julie and Landry's parents in the front pew. Coach and Tami, Jason and Lyla, Smash and his mother. Landry's band mates and manager. People who knew and loved him.
He focused on those few faces as he began to speak.
"Many of you may not know me, and I think that's because many of you don't know the real Landry Clarke. Sure he was a member of Hometown Hero, and he played in your stadiums and sat for your interviews. But I knew him before he was somebody special, back when he was just a pimply-faced kid that didn't fit in…back when he was special to all the people that mattered.
"Landry's greatest dream was to be somebody, to matter to someone. A long time ago, when he first moved to Nashville and started playing with his band, he told me that it was finally happening. He was finally going to matter to somebody outside of Dillon."
Matt paused to compose himself.
"But he already mattered to someone far more important. He called me one night; this was a few years ago, just after our 10-year Reunion. It was late, like 3 AM-Landry always got straight As in high school but he could never figure out the time zones when he was traveling."
A low laugh rippled through the crowd.
"He called and he told me, 'Matty, I think my girl's in love.'"
Matt looked down at Tyra sitting in the front pew, her head buried against Tim's shoulder.
"And you weren't his girl, Tyra. You were never really his, and he knew that. And he loved you anyway. He loved you and Jake so much and for so long you were family he'd always wanted to have. I think playing Dad, being a stand-in dad before Tim came back into your life, was one of his greatest accomplishments. And for you all to keep him in your life, for so long…that made him matter more than anything else. That made him happy."
Tyra's body shook with sobs and Matt watched as Tim pulled her closer to his chest. Matt felt like crying right along with her. It was too hard to think about why he was up here saying these words.
Reaching back into his breast pocket, he rifled past the cue cards until his fingers closed over a photograph. He pulled it out and stared at it for a moment. It had been taken almost 18 years ago, at the start of their sophomore year when Landry had come to pick Matt up for his first football practice. Matt's grandmother had wanted to capture the moment-the moment her baby would become a football star.
Landry's face was wrinkled up, his eyes squinted in that perennial way he always had of smiling back then. Matt looked bored, standing just close enough to Landry to fit in the frame. Behind them sat the old station wagon-the closest thing they had to freedom back then. He held the picture tight in his hand and looked out at the crowd again.
"You know, Landry always joked that he was my sidekick. Could never get out of the shadow of Matt Saracen, QB1." Matt looked down at Jason who smiled and nodded his head.
"He had to come to that 10-year football reunion as my guest. They even printed it on his name tag." Matt smiled for the first time since he started speaking. "Don't think he let me live that one down."
He looked back down at the picture; at Landry staring back up at him. "But Landry didn't play second-fiddle to anyone. He was always the talker. If he were here right now he'd have you laughing in the aisles over some high school memory, probably involving a few too many beers."
The crowd laughed lightly again, but Matt felt tears rise in his throat instead. He shook his head and tried to push out his last words. "He was never my sidekick; I was his. And I would've been happy to live in his shadow for the rest of my life. Landry was just that kind of guy. He never made you feel small, or any less than what you were. Instead, you just felt happy that he was your friend. And you smiled. He made you smile.
"I'm going to miss him. I'll miss my friend." Matt looked up at the ceiling, smiling through the tears dripping down his face. "And don't think we don't all know that you're lovin' every minute of this. Going out like Buddy Holly. You had to find some way to get one last joke in. I love you, Landry. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for being my friend."
Smash looked down the long table spread with food and sighed. Where was it written that you had to gain 10 pounds during a funeral?
Apparently somewhere in the Church Ladies handbook because there was enough food in the church hall to feed a small army.
Shaking his head, he piled a roll on top of his already crowded plate and headed off to find a seat. He might as well join the masses and drown his grief with food-Landry would find it hysterical if all his friends gained weight because of this.
"Hey, Smash, anything good up there?"
Jason wheeled up next to him just as he found an empty chair.
"Oh man," Smash replied, tipping his plate slightly. "Only if you count three different kinds of fried chicken as good. I am going to have to hit the gym hard after this week."
Jason laughed. "You still working out all the time? Keeping busy?"
Smash shrugged and scooped a forkful of coleslaw into his mouth. "You know, old habits I guess. Kind of hard not having something to train for, but I can't give it up."
He'd made the decision to retire at the end of last season on his own accord. A lot of people had written him off a few years back when he went in for rehab. But he'd been able to bounce back from that, through no small amount of hard work, and a hell of a lot of sweat and tears. The Houston Texans were no New York Giants; not even a shot at the playoffs, let alone the two Super Bowl rings he had won in New York, but there was less pressure to excel. And that was exactly what he had needed to finish out his career.
"You ever think about coaching? Or playing arena ball?" Jason asked.
"Nah," Smash replied. "I don't have the patience for coaching, and arena isn't really my style. I had the limelight once, never really did me any good."
"Come on now, you've got to miss it a little."
Smash smiled. "You fishing for a certain answer here, Street, or what?"
"I'm fishing for someone to front our new campaign. We're trying to get into twice as many schools this year, showcase the foundation and encourage kids to apply…and parents to donate. We could use a famous face."
"Even one from the Texans?"
"Everyone remembers the Giants' years; you're too hard on yourself."
Smash shook his head. It was hard to remember the years before drugs had almost stolen his career away. He'd been flying-on booze, women (in public), men (in private)…and the drugs. It was a fast life and it had burned him out. He wasn't sure he was ready to put his face back out there.
"Think about it," Jason said, backing away. "No pressure, but it does pay pretty good."
Smash laughed as Street moved off towards Lyla. One thing he didn't need was the pay check; he'd been smart enough to save money for his eventual retirement. But maybe it would be good to share his story with kids, show them that you could overcome any obstacle if you tried hard enough.
Looking down, Smash pushed his plate away and stood up. If he was going to preach about hard work and discipline, he had to start with himself. Tomorrow, he was back on the diet.
Tim set his plate and coffee cup down on the counter in the kitchen. He could hear someone in the Sunday School room next door. He took a couple of steps to check it out-it sounded like Jay.
"Okay, I know we can do this. Oh, don't cry little girl."
"You need some help?" Tim asked as he stepped in the room. Jason was sitting in front of one of the lower tables with Emma on a blanket in front of him.
"Uh…yeah, maybe," Jason replied. "I know I should be able to do this, but it's not the best set up and I'm afraid she might roll off before I can get the new diaper on her with these mitten hands of mine."
Tim smiled and eased over to the table where Emma lay, her wet diaper lying open underneath her. He pulled up one of the little chairs and sat down.
"Well, the first thing to know is that you're lucky she's a girl. She's much less likely to squirt you while you get the new diaper on. These new diapers are also easier to use because you get more than one try to get them on in the right spot."
"You sound like an expert, Riggins."
"Many nights of practice, Street." Tim looked at Jason seriously. "Many, many nights."
Jason laughed. "A hands-on dad, I love it!"
Tim laughed and reached to shift Emma slightly on the blanket. "First, let's get her off this diaper," he instructed. "Can you take her feet with your right hand?"
Jason cupped his hand around Emma's little feet, his fingers on this hand working a bit better.
"Okay, now lift her and then pull the old diaper out with your left hand."
Jason lifted her up a bit and managed to pinch his thumb and finger around the wet diaper and pull it out.
"We'll deal with that later," Tim said as the diaper fell to the floor. Tim reached for the wipes and handed one to Jason. "Okay, take this and wipe her. You want to go from front to back."
Jason carefully wiped Emma. "Okay, now what?"
Tim pulled out a new diaper. "Okay, you need to get these tabs open."
Jason tried to get his stubborn fingers around the small tab so he could loosen it from the diaper. "This isn't going to work."
"Use your teeth," Tim advised.
Jason lifted the diaper and easily pulled the tabs loose on each side using his teeth.
"Okay, so lift her up again and get the diaper down under her," Tim explained.
This was going to be the hard part. He watched as Jason carefully lifted the baby up and then pushed the diaper underneath the baby. Emma just stared at both of them with her big dark eyes.
"She's not going to break, Six."
"You sure?" Jason asked.
Tim laughed. He remembered going through all this with Hannah when she was first born. He thought he was going to break her every time he tried to pick her up. It took a while to find that comfort zone with such a delicate thing.
"Nah, she'll be fine. She'll cry…a lot. And she won't sleep…a lot."
"Sleepless nights with Hannah?" Jason asked.
"Only…" Tim paused to look at his watch. "Three years worth, I guess?"
"Oh man," Jason replied, shaking his head.
"Nah, you don't mind that much. They're real cute when then finally fall asleep on you," Tim said, grinning. "But don't tell Tyra that. Emma's going to give her baby fever!
"Now let's get this diaper on her before the girls come in and try to tell us how to do this. You got this, Street. Lift the front up with your left hand and then bring the tabs in," Tim instructed.
Jason focused on the little tab. Tim could tell that he was willing his fingers to close around the little tab.
"Dammit," Jason said as he lost the tab again.
"Careful," Tim said. "You don't want her picking up bad habits."
Jason slowly pulled the tab forward again, concentrating until finally he was able to press it into the front of the diaper closing the side. "One down, one to go," he said.
"Jason?"
Both men turned their heads at the sound of Lyla's voice outside.
"Okay, get the other side before she comes," Tim coached Jason. "You'll get major brownie points if you're already changing diapers."
"Jason?" Lyla called as she walked in the room. "Oh, here you are."
Tim finished snapping the grippers on the bottom of Emma's dress and picked her up,
"You catch a dirty diaper?" Lyla asked. "Of course I'm sure you're an expert with little girls now, Tim."
Tim smiled down at baby Emma's face, then stood up and slid her into Jason's waiting arms.
"I didn't change the diaper. I just coached," Tim explained.
"You did it?" Lyla asked Jason, a look of confusion crossing her face.
Jason held the baby to his chest while Tim helped him with the clips on the baby front carrier. "I did."
He looked up at Tim and smiled. "I had a good instructor."
Tami leaned in and gave Lyla a long hug.
"Just remember it doesn't need to take a major life event for us to get together," she said as she stepped back from Lyla. She leaned down and gave Jason a light kiss on the cheek and brushed her fingers across the soft hair of a sleeping baby Emma, tucked in the Snugli Jason was wearing. "And I'm going to need to spend more time with these children."
"Tyra suggested we all come back for Homecoming this year," Lyla replied.
"And I think the foundation might have some big news coming soon," Jason added. "We might have to have a big party to announce our latest effort."
"I saw you talking to Smash," Eric stated. "I think starting a substance abuse program is a great idea, Jason and Smash is the perfect person to work with you."
"At what point do you stop being the football captain?" Tami asked.
Jason just smiled and shook his head. "That's not it," he added.
"It's a good thing, Jason," Tami replied. "You take good care of your friends."
"Okay, I've got one sleeping child in the car," Lyla said as she unclipped the side clasp on the baby carrier. Let me get this little one in her seat and we'll be on our way."
She lifted the baby from the carrier, trying not to wake her.
"You headed out?" Tim asked as he walked up to the group next to Jason and Lyla's car.
"Yeah," Jason said. "Lyla's mom is coming back from Alaska tonight and we want to catch her at the airport in Dallas. When are you headed back?"
Tim shrugged. "I'm not quite sure. Tyra has to handle a couple of things with Landry's parents and the estate, but we need to be back in Nashville by next week for the memorial service up there."
"You have time to spend the night on the way back?" Jason asked.
Tim fixed his eyes on his friend, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. We do." He took Jason's outstretched hand in his, leaned in and hugged his friend. "We'll call you."
Jason transferred into the car. Lyla finished putting Emma in her car seat and came around to get Jason's wheelchair. As she opened the back of the hatch in the car, Jason rolled down his window.
"I've tried to avoid it for years, but I guess it's time to get that minivan," he said.
Eric chuckled and nodded his head. "It's worth it," he replied.
"Absolutely," Tim echoed.
With another wave, Lyla put the car in gear and they headed out of the parking lot toward Dallas.
"Where is Tyra?" Tami asked, looking around at the people walking toward their cars.
Tim pointed toward the rear of the church. "She's talking to Julie and Matt-making some plans for tonight, I think."
"You take care of her," Tami said.
"Of course, ma'am," Tim replied.
"Come see us next time you come through," Eric said as he clapped his hand on Tim's shoulder.
"And you're invited to come see us in Nashville any time," Tim responded.
"Homecoming," Tami said as she reached up to give Tim a hug. "We should all come."
"We'll need a bigger house!" Julie said as she neared the group.
Matt smiled and wrapped his arm around Julie's waist. "We can always rent out that cabin again."
"Ew," Julie replied, wrinkling her nose. "It was good for us, but I have seen enough of that deer to last me a lifetime!"
Tyra smiled as she leaned against Tim's side. "Ready to go?" she asked.
"Yeah," Tim replied. "Jake's got Hannah in the car already. We should feed her before she gets too cranky."
"And then sleep," Tyra added. "Lots of sleep."
"You take care of yourself," Tami said, leaning in to hug Tyra. "And you call me if you need anything…anything at all."
Tyra nodded.
Tami turned to Julie and pulled her daughter tight into her arms. "Sorry we have to leave so soon."
"Thanks for staying the whole time," Julie replied, burying her face into her mother's shoulder.
"Of course, hon.
For Landry…" Tami took a deep breath and shook her head. "No more tears, right?" she said, looking from Julie to Tyra.
"No more tears, Mrs. T," Tyra replied.
"Landry wouldn't want it," Julie added.
"Okay, well we should hit the road," Eric said.
He shook hands with Matt and gave Julie a hug. "You tell EJ and Andrew that Grandpa will call tonight. And they better be asleep!"
Matt laughed. "Right! They only listen to you, it doesn't work if I threaten them!"
Eric smiled and climbed into the car.
Tami looked around one last time at Tim and Tyra, and Julie and Matt. This week had been tough on them, it had been tough on all of them. But she knew they would be okay. There were bonds of friendship here that ran deeper than distance, deeper than time and separation. They were going to make it through this together.
And that's what Landry would have wanted. For them all to be together.
"Take care," she called as she slid into the car. She stared behind her as the church faded into the distance until she finally couldn't see Julie and everyone standing outside.
Eric reached over and placed a hand on her leg, squeezing gently.
"You okay?" he asked.
Tami smiled, pausing to make sure she didn't cry as she replied. "I will be," she finally said. "We all will."
/fin/
Disclaimer: All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.
Authors' Note: Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, devilc. This is the end of the Reunion trilogy. We started this story in February 2007 and have loved every moment of writing it. Thanks for coming along for the ride.