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  Keegan laughed at the good-natured complaint.

  With Keegan comfortable, they relaxed and listened to the music.

  Chapter Nine

  The feel-good emotions and momentum from his date fueled Wyatt during the next day. Wyatt dealt with the rest of the planning for the memorial. It took longer than anyone had thought it would, but by Saturday morning, Wyatt, Erin and Marissa had finished getting the details together. Wyatt arrived earlier than usual to help with the last of the decorations and preparations, turning his gallery into a celebration of a life lost.

  Since he knew crews from different businesses were working hard inside the studio, he purchased two full carriers of coffee. He located Marissa. She spoke with the group from Blissful Cloths, a local linen rental company, owned by Natalie and Larry Brandon. They brought in all the chairs, chair covers and tie-backs, along with a few tables with linens and displays. Several Roman-styled columns for additional height and decoration.

  Natalie finished covering a chair in a deep cream cloth with a thick black ribbon tie. “Hello, Wyatt. I smell coffee.”

  “Morning,” he said then laughed. “You’re not going crazy. I got the java.” He lifted the containers. “They’re all black coffee. Creamer and sugar are in the bag.”

  “Thank you, appreciate the gesture,” Natalie said. She chose from the selection of coffees. Marissa and Larry, Natalie’s husband, grabbed a cup for themselves.

  “I wouldn’t want anyone to go without their caffeine while working hard.” Wyatt kept the last cup in the first container for himself. He headed to an empty table where he dropped a paper bag full of creamer cups, sugar packets and stirrers. Everyone prepared their cups in different styles but all were satisfied.

  “Candice knows how to brew one helluva pot of coffee,” Larry said, lifting the cup to Wyatt in a silent toast and returning to the columns. “Carson, take a break and get a coffee.”

  Wyatt turned to find the burly lighting designer step off a ladder. Carson spent the morning hanging the mixture of black and white cloth panels. For extra effect, they added pin-spotting lights behind them. He waved a hand to Carson. “Hello, Carson, I didn’t see you up there.”

  “Morning, Wyatt, yeah, that can happen at times,” Carson said. He tugged Wyatt into a hard bear hug. “How are you holding up?” He thumped his hand on Wyatt’s back a couple of times.

  Wyatt swore his ribcage creaked in protest, but he didn’t care. He embraced Carson back. They stepped apart and Wyatt managed to pull air back into his lungs before he answered. “I’m doing okay, but I’ve been worried about Jeremy. Whenever I go to see him, he’s either curled on the sofa or in the bedroom. He hasn’t talked much. I’m sure this memorial will be the first time he’s left the house since Patrick’s passing.”

  “He’s got a lot of support around him. We’ll get him to come around. Give him some time.” Carson patted Wyatt on the shoulder and chose a cup. He drank it straight and black. “Perfect.” He motioned to the area around them with a hand. “What do you think so far?”

  As he turned, Wyatt studied the altered studio and nodded. “Looks good. I didn’t expect all of this.”

  “Patrick deserves to have a party while we remember him, his life, love of Jeremy, and talent. I’m going to pin-spot each of his works in a different shade of light. We’ll move some of his creations to the columns for additional height and difference.”

  “Sounds like a good idea. Where’s the memory board?” Wyatt looked around.

  “Not here yet. I called Erin and she’s finishing a few last minute details,” Marissa said and pointed to the empty art easel. “I wanted that to hold the board and Carson will spotlight it. I have the visitor’s journal and pens set up on the small table by the door. Anyone who enters can stop to sign their name or write a message. At the end, I’ll hand it to Jeremy for a keepsake.”

  “The journal sounds like a good idea. Something Jeremy could look through when things get hard to see how everyone loved and remembered Patrick.”

  “Back to work,” Natalie said. She went to another table where she piled fabric rolls. She picked up one of the rolls and unfurled it. Once it opened, she draped it over the table, smoothing it as she went along the length.

  “Is this the black bengaline we discussed?” Wyatt moved to assist Natalie on the other side. He helped tug and center.

  “Yes, it’s a gorgeous piece with a subtle ribbed texture and just enough sheen so it isn’t flat. It’s ethereal and the perfect backdrop for even a memorial service. When you reminded me about Patrick’s love of the beach and ocean, I chose a mixture of overlays,” Natalie said and picked up three more rolls from the box. “I found three different sheer fabrics in a lagoon blue, a sand natural, and a black silver shimmer. I figure the black silver sheer can lie over everything to mute the brightness. I’m twisting the three light shades into the ties for the chairs. We’re going to add the overlays to the drapes for the walls.”

  “So everything isn’t a mopey plain black. Good idea.” Wyatt rubbed the edge of the black fabric between his fingertips.

  “Marissa revealed the gorgeous urn you designed with Patrick and I knew these would complement the piece. I’ll create a nest for the urn to rest upon on the tallest column. I spoke with Jude earlier about my ideas and he’s creating towering florals to accompany the urn, drape along the columns, and add to the tables.”

  “Thanks. I forgot to check in with him after hearing what happened at the clinic. How is he?”

  “He’s stronger and healthier than I’ve seen in long time. He’s worried about his doctor lover.”

  “Right. The lunatic shot Doctor Sheffield during the altercation. Who could have known such a prominent fellow would turn out to be a fraud? The nurse was also injured…” Wyatt paused to think about the different pieces of gossip. “Right?”

  “Almost,” Natalie said with a smile. “She was a diabetes consultant, but it wasn’t as bad as Doc Sheffield’s injury. There were other complications, but Jude didn’t explain further and I didn’t press for details.”

  “Understandable. I wasn’t sure if they would attend today.”

  “He said they planned on coming as long as his doctor would be comfortable and not in pain. I mentioned they can sit toward the back to give Doc the opportunity to slip out when he needs to stretch.”

  “It would be nice to see them,” Wyatt said as he looked around. “What can I do to help?”

  Natalie perused everything. She moved her fingers in a ‘ticking off the list’ type of pattern. She pointed toward the folded chairs leaning against a wall. “Can you finish setting up the chairs? Marissa is completing the memorial cards and brochures. Larry and Carson are dealing with the wall panels and lighting. Joseph and Gina created and donated small sandcastles crafted from driftwood and carved with Patrick’s name and dates as gifts for those who wish to have something.”

  “Really? I never asked…”

  “All the store owners remembered Patrick. Without asking, everyone offered to do something. If not materials, I created an account at the bank. Patrick’s mom and Jeremy can decide where the money can be used, either as an art scholarship or something else.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s amazing about the generosity of this town.”

  “There are times I can’t believe it. Damn, I love this small town.” Wyatt shoved a hand through his hair and blew out a long breath. This was more than he could ever dream of happening after losing Patrick. He moved over to where Marissa was finishing stacking the brochures. “How are we on schedule?”

  “Everything’s on track. Did Natalie tell you about the donations?”

  “Yes, I’m so impressed.”

  “It was unexpected,” Marissa said and smiled at Natalie, “but so treasured.”

  “I don’t see any food.”

  Natalie checked her watch. “Dakota will send someone from the Charm with a selection of tea sandwiches, containers of sun-tea and water. He’ll
probably have Mal and Dorian in charge of keeping everything stocked. Katie is donating platters of light desserts. Wayne from Sands Coffee is donating several carafes of coffee and tea. We also have alcohol being donated for a small bar.”

  “Are you two sure about the alcohol? I wasn’t sure about it,” Wyatt said.

  “It’s limited in quantity so no one will be drunk.” Natalie patted Wyatt’s arm. “Jude should be here soon with the flowers.”

  “Thank you for helping Erin and Marissa to plan everything.”

  “It’s what I do,” Natalie said.

  “It’s been wonderful working with her,” Marissa added.

  Wyatt looked between them. “How do you two keep track of everything?”

  “My iPhone and iPad are my go-to items,” Marissa said.

  “They’re practically attached to either her hand or ear,” Wyatt added.

  Marissa smacked his arm.

  “I have the same electronic stuff. We can compare ideas and notes. I also have a binder with paper back-ups on everything. I learned that method from watching Jude work through the larger celebrations.” Natalie waved her hands in a shooing motion. “Go and handle those chairs. Once everything is set up, we can all clean up and change for the service.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes and shook his head at the ladies. “Give me the boring job, right?”

  “Of course,” Marissa said.

  “You’re the last one here,” Natalie added. “Even if you did bring the coffee.”

  Chuckling, Wyatt walked off and shot over his shoulder, “What would we have done without the both of you?”

  “Something stupid and unworthy of such a wonderful young man.”

  With a slight grin, Wyatt turned and bowed to the ladies’ superiority in a playful tone. He headed toward the pile of chairs waiting on several carts. He lifted a pair, opened then lined them in place. He continued with the simple work, letting his mind drift.

  * * * *

  By the time two o’clock rolled around, all the preparation was finished with the well-dressed Malcolm and Dorian manning the food area. Everyone else raced home in stages to take a shower, get dressed and return to the studio for the memorial.

  Wyatt selected a slate gray silk suit with a darker shirt and printed tie after his shower. Once he’d finished, he checked in on his nephew, who insisted on attending with him.

  “Can’t do this tie right.” Collin flopped a silk tie back and forth in his hand. “Dad showed me, but I still never worked it out.”

  “Gotta learn the techniques. Here, face the mirror and I’ll help you. This is a simple clean knot for most occasions.” Wyatt stepped behind Collin and taught him how to knot the silk between their hands. He turned Collin to face him, straightened out the collar, then the knot. “Handsome.”

  “I want to help out at the memorial, Uncle Wyatt. What can I do?” Collin lifted his solemn gaze to look at his uncle.

  “Collin, there’s no need…”

  “Patrick was your friend. You need to be there for his partner. Jeremy, right? As extra support if he needs it. Right?”

  Wyatt nodded.

  “Then I can handle some of the smaller stuff.”

  Wyatt stepped back, slid a hand in his pocket and sighed. “Okay. Talk with Marissa, but you can join her at the door. Hand out the cards and memorial paperwork, explain about the visitor’s journal and escort them to a seat if they wish.”

  “I can do that,” Collin said.

  “Thank you. Come, we need to get going.”

  * * * *

  Wyatt felt out of his comfort zone of jeans and faded shirts. He felt strangled in the suit. Still, he would go through the worst kind of discomfort possible if it meant he wouldn’t have to be here in the first place. No matter what, he would stand by his best friend. He swore he would try and help Jeremy and Erin overcome their loss. Patrick had meant so much to everyone. He greeted newcomers with a nod and some simple words.

  Collin directed them to choose a memory card, a brochure, and look around at the displays.

  Wyatt kept his back straight. He would do this for Patrick. He would do this to support his broken and grieving friend, Jeremy, lost in the darkness. He’d introduced the two of them while Patrick had stayed with him, fresh out of art school and building his name and craft.

  A couple walked toward him with one male towering over another. Both dressed in dark suits for the somber but playful occasion. Wyatt recognized them as Sheriff Robin Burke and the local IT guru, Beau Courtenay. He’d heard rumors they’d gotten together. His suspicions had been confirmed after seeing the sheriff’s SUV in Beau’s driveway multiple times.

  “Thank you for coming, Sheriff, Beau.” Wyatt shook hands with them.

  “I’m here as Robin, not my official capacity. Gonna miss our crazy Irishman.” Robin stepped forward to give Wyatt a good bear hug.

  Since he was only an inch shorter than Robin, Wyatt could give the same hard embrace and not get crushed.

  “Patrick’s sweet soul will be missed,” Beau said, his British accent thicker than normal with his sadness.

  Robin pressed a kiss to Beau’s temple. “Where’s Jeremy?” He looped his arm around Beau’s waist.

  “His brother’s escorting him here, closer to sunset. Jeremy’s having a rough time. Rougher than I imagined. We all knew this day would happen, but something in Jeremy—” Wyatt stopped.

  “Didn’t want to believe it was happening and hoping for a miracle,” Beau finished.

  “Exactly. The truth is tearing him apart,” Wyatt said.

  “His brother… Ethan, right?” Robin asked.

  “The same man I went out with, yup.”

  “Everything kosher?”

  Wyatt nodded. “We’re good. We parted as friends when he left for Manhattan.”

  Robin looked over his shoulder and saw others walking up to offer their condolences and talk with Wyatt. “We’ll free you up to say hello.”

  “Appreciate it. Please see Collin. He’ll help you with the rest,” Wyatt said.

  Robin clasped Wyatt’s shoulder in a strong grip and escorted Beau inside after letting go of Wyatt. Wyatt saw his good friend, Jude Sebastian, and his faithful medical companion, Dawson, walking over to him. Jude had chosen a simple ensemble of dark pants, button-down shirt and a patterned vest for the evening. Even Dawson had dressed in a dark vest.

  “Good to see you make it, Jude.” Wyatt hugged his friend. Jude returned the gentle embrace. Dawson sat patiently at their feet.

  “I’m happy to make it.”

  “Where’s your doctor love?”

  “Elliott took the shift at the clinic to allow others to come to the memorial. He passed on his condolences to everyone. Other than helping Patrick on his last day, Elliott didn’t get to know him or Jeremy. He felt it would be out of place for him to attend,” Jude said.

  “Oh, he shouldn’t have thought that. The doc was so wonderful and gracious the entire time I was at the hospital with Jeremy. He handled things with so much care and dignity—far better bedside manner than any other doctor I’ve known,” Wyatt said. “Call him, please, and request him to stop by. Even if it’s for a few moments. He deserves to be here to know Patrick beyond what he saw.”

  “I’ll send him a text to try to convince him to join us, but he’s stubborn.”

  “A perfect complement to your own resolute nature,” Wyatt said. He kissed Jude’s cheek and ruffled one of Dawson’s soft ears to give the pup a tiny bit of attention.

  “He’s working,” Jude admonished but rolled his eyes.

  “He’s adorable,” Wyatt said.

  Dawson leaned his furry head against Jude’s legs as if to enhance Wyatt’s remark.

  “He’s spoiled,” Jude said. He gave a silent hand command to tell Dawson to move forward.

  “We’ll talk later. Please see Collin inside.” Wyatt squeezed their hands once more before Jude left him.

  More folks entered the gallery, saying hello and making lig
ht conversation.

  “Here, Wyatt, take a moment and sip this,” Marissa said and pushed a glass of water into his hand. She took over greetings while Wyatt gratefully sipped the water to rehydrate his parched throat.

  “Thank you,” Wyatt said and set the glass on a small table next to him.

  “Next time, ask,” she said. “Any sign of Jeremy?”

  “Not yet.”

  “He’ll be here,” Marissa said, touching his shoulder and returning to her interior hostess duties.

  “Is she torturing you to follow rules?”

  At the teasing, sarcastic tone, Wyatt turned to find Sully Tarleton and Reece Simpson standing in front of him. A slender man in glasses stood tucked against Sully’s side.

  “Ha ha ha,” Wyatt said to answer Sully’s sarcasm. “No, she’s taking care of me as she always does.” He exchanged hugs with Sully and Reece, but the smaller man stayed back and kept his hands clasped in front of him.

  “Wyatt, I don’t know if you two met,” Sully said. He glanced over at Chandler, who turned to meet him. “I would like to introduce Chandler Braddock. Chandler came from Manhattan to help Samuel deal with the financial situation and I helped convince him to stay in Shore Breeze.”

  Love shone bright between them. Even Wyatt could see it shimmering. The artist in him wondered if he could capture that in a sculpture.

  “Hello, Wyatt, it’s wonderful to meet the artist who created such beauty for the Charm and Delights. These two and Dakota speak often of your work,” Chandler said but didn’t offer his hand. “I apologize, but I’m not a hand shaker or a hugger.”

  “It’s quite all right, but it’s a pleasure to meet the one who captured Sully’s heart,” Wyatt said and glanced at a quiet Reece. “Your fella is inside and looking handsome.”

  “I know, he texted me how I better get my ass over to see him,” Reece said.

  “Umm, yeah, I would say so. Or you’re kicked to the doghouse.”