pulled together crackers from his cupboard, and cheese and a vegetable tray from his refrigerator. Doreen kept him company, asking about his day and telling him about hers. He set the refreshments on the silver Formica counter between his half-kitchen and the dining room. Their banter helped ease his tension and, he hoped, Doreen’s nerves.
His doorbell rang three more times. The first time, it announced Ean, Megan, and Ramona. Minutes later, Jackson and Audra joined them. Finally, Darius escorted Ms. Helen to the event. Alonzo greeted the elderly town matriarch with a hug. Dr. Helen Gaston, or Ms. Helen as Trinity Falls’ residents called her, was timeless.
Alonzo wrapped his left arm around Doreen’s slim waist as he led his friends into his dining room. He didn’t entertain much, which was the exact opposite of Doreen. During the past four months, he’d picked up a lot from her about entertaining. He incorporated that knowledge into the evening as he made his guests comfortable.
“Thank you for coming.” Alonzo released Doreen and crossed to the altar. His gaze swept the small group. They each held a folder, bag, or envelope in which he suspected they carried their photos. “The Day of the Dead isn’t a time for sadness. It’s a time to celebrate and honor our loved ones who’ve died.” He gestured toward the altar. “This is one way for us to remember someone we love who’s passed on.”
Darius indicated the altar. “Are those items symbolic?”
Ramona sighed. “I’m sure Alonzo’s getting to that.”
“It’s all right, Ramona.” Alonzo grinned. “I appreciate Darius’s enthusiasm.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.” Darius gave Ramona a triumphant look.
Alonzo continued. “The glasses of water quench the thirst of our loved ones’ spirits. The lit candles guide the spirits on their journey. The marigolds are synonymous with the Day of the Dead. And the incense removes negative energy.”
Darius smiled. “Instead of using incense, we could just ask Ramona to leave.”
“Darius, you’re not helping.” Under Doreen’s firm tone, Alonzo heard a trace of amusement.
He held Doreen’s warm brown eyes. “The most important thing to remember is that this is a celebration of the ones we’ve loved and lost. We’re here to keep their memories alive so they’re never forgotten. I’ll go first.”
Alonzo released Doreen’s gaze and lifted a photo he’d placed on the table behind the altar. “Captain Cesar Vargas.” He stared at the image of the slim, dignified older man in silence for a moment. His friend and former supervisor was in a sheriff’s uniform, including a brown felt campaign hat. He then faced the picture outward so the others could see it. “As you can imagine, Jacksonville, Florida, where I used to work, is very different from Trinity Falls. Captain Vargas called me the son he wished he’d had. That usually meant he needed help with some household project. But he treated me like family and kept me from getting too homesick between trips back to Trinity Falls.”
Alonzo put the photograph of his former mentor on the altar. “Who’s next?”
“Me.” Ms. Helen stepped forward, trading places with Alonzo. The tiny woman pinned the sheriff with a sharp look. “I’m going to get this picture back, right?”
Alonzo smiled from his place at Doreen’s side. “I promise.”
She nodded once in satisfaction, then held a framed black-and-white photo chest high. The picture’s subject was a middle-aged woman. Her twinkling eyes belied her prim expression.
“This is my godmother, Mrs. Cora Mary Covington.” Ms. Helen glanced again at the photo before continuing. “Covington was the family name of her fifth husband. She was my mother’s best friend from childhood. Aunt Cora always used to tell me, ‘Helen, be who God intended you to be and you will set the world on fire.’ I thought she’d made up that saying. I was so impressed. It wasn’t until I was in college that I
His doorbell rang three more times. The first time, it announced Ean, Megan, and Ramona. Minutes later, Jackson and Audra joined them. Finally, Darius escorted Ms. Helen to the event. Alonzo greeted the elderly town matriarch with a hug. Dr. Helen Gaston, or Ms. Helen as Trinity Falls’ residents called her, was timeless.
Alonzo wrapped his left arm around Doreen’s slim waist as he led his friends into his dining room. He didn’t entertain much, which was the exact opposite of Doreen. During the past four months, he’d picked up a lot from her about entertaining. He incorporated that knowledge into the evening as he made his guests comfortable.
“Thank you for coming.” Alonzo released Doreen and crossed to the altar. His gaze swept the small group. They each held a folder, bag, or envelope in which he suspected they carried their photos. “The Day of the Dead isn’t a time for sadness. It’s a time to celebrate and honor our loved ones who’ve died.” He gestured toward the altar. “This is one way for us to remember someone we love who’s passed on.”
Darius indicated the altar. “Are those items symbolic?”
Ramona sighed. “I’m sure Alonzo’s getting to that.”
“It’s all right, Ramona.” Alonzo grinned. “I appreciate Darius’s enthusiasm.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.” Darius gave Ramona a triumphant look.
Alonzo continued. “The glasses of water quench the thirst of our loved ones’ spirits. The lit candles guide the spirits on their journey. The marigolds are synonymous with the Day of the Dead. And the incense removes negative energy.”
Darius smiled. “Instead of using incense, we could just ask Ramona to leave.”
“Darius, you’re not helping.” Under Doreen’s firm tone, Alonzo heard a trace of amusement.
He held Doreen’s warm brown eyes. “The most important thing to remember is that this is a celebration of the ones we’ve loved and lost. We’re here to keep their memories alive so they’re never forgotten. I’ll go first.”
Alonzo released Doreen’s gaze and lifted a photo he’d placed on the table behind the altar. “Captain Cesar Vargas.” He stared at the image of the slim, dignified older man in silence for a moment. His friend and former supervisor was in a sheriff’s uniform, including a brown felt campaign hat. He then faced the picture outward so the others could see it. “As you can imagine, Jacksonville, Florida, where I used to work, is very different from Trinity Falls. Captain Vargas called me the son he wished he’d had. That usually meant he needed help with some household project. But he treated me like family and kept me from getting too homesick between trips back to Trinity Falls.”
Alonzo put the photograph of his former mentor on the altar. “Who’s next?”
“Me.” Ms. Helen stepped forward, trading places with Alonzo. The tiny woman pinned the sheriff with a sharp look. “I’m going to get this picture back, right?”
Alonzo smiled from his place at Doreen’s side. “I promise.”
She nodded once in satisfaction, then held a framed black-and-white photo chest high. The picture’s subject was a middle-aged woman. Her twinkling eyes belied her prim expression.
“This is my godmother, Mrs. Cora Mary Covington.” Ms. Helen glanced again at the photo before continuing. “Covington was the family name of her fifth husband. She was my mother’s best friend from childhood. Aunt Cora always used to tell me, ‘Helen, be who God intended you to be and you will set the world on fire.’ I thought she’d made up that saying. I was so impressed. It wasn’t until I was in college that I
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