The Rescue - Nicholas Sparks [120]
Taylor lay alone in the darkness of his hospital room, his thoughts filled with the man he had left behind who had died. One eye was heavily bandaged, and he was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with the other, when his mother arrived.
She sat with him in his hospital room for an hour, then left him alone with his thoughts.
Taylor McAden never said a word.
Denise showed up Tuesday morning, when visiting hours began. As soon as she arrived, Judy looked up from her chair, her eyes red and exhausted. When Judy called, Denise had come immediately, Kyle in tow. Judy took Kyle’s hand and silently led him downstairs.
Denise entered Taylor’s room, seating herself where Judy had been. Taylor turned his head the other way.
“I’m sorry about Mitch,” she said gently.
Chapter 25
The funeral was to be held three days later, on Friday.
Taylor had been released from the hospital on Thursday and went straight to Melissa’s.
Melissa’s family had come in from Rocky Mount, and the house was filled with people Taylor had met only a few times in the past: at the wedding, at baptisms, and at various holidays. Mitch’s parents and siblings, who lived in Edenton, also spent time at the house, though they all left in the evening.
The door was open as Taylor stepped inside, looking for Melissa.
As soon as he saw her across the living room, his eyes began to burn and he started toward her. She was talking to her sister and brother-in-law, standing by the framed family photo on the wall, when she saw him. She immediately broke off her conversation and made her way toward him. When they were close he wrapped his arms around her, putting his head on her shoulder as he cried into her hair.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, “I’m so, so, sorry.”
All he could do was to repeat himself. Melissa began to cry as well. The other family members left them alone in their grief.
“I tried, Melissa . . . I tried. I didn’t know it was him. . . .”
Melissa couldn’t speak, having already learned what had happened from Joe.
“I couldn’t . . . ,” he finally choked out, before breaking down completely.
They stood holding each other for a long, long time.
He left an hour later, without talking to anyone else.
The funeral service, held at Cypress Park Cemetery, was overflowing with people. Every fireman from the surrounding three counties, as well as every law enforcement official, made an appearance, as did friends and family. The crowd was among the largest ever for a service in Edenton; since Mitch had grown up here and ran the hardware store, nearly everyone in town came to pay their respects.
Melissa and her four children sat weeping in the front row.
The minister spoke a little while before reciting the Twenty-third Psalm. When it came time for eulogies, the minister stepped aside, allowing close friends and family to come forward.
Joe, the fire chief, went first and spoke of Mitch’s dedication, his bravery, and the respect he would always hold in his heart. Mitch’s older sister also said a few words, sharing a few remembrances from their childhood. When she finished, Taylor stepped forward.
“Mitch was like a brother to me,” he began, his voice cracking, his eyes cast downward. “We grew up together, and every good memory I have growing up included him. I remember once, when we were twelve, Mitch and I were fishing when I stood up too quickly in the dinghy. I slipped and hit my head, then fell into the water. Mitch dove in and pulled me to the surface. He saved my life that day, but when I finally came to, he only laughed. ‘You made me lose the fish, you clumsy oaf,’ was the only thing he said.”
Despite the solemnity of the afternoon, a low murmur of chuckles rose, then faded away.
“Mitch—what can I say? He was the kind of