The smell of lily filled the room; fragrance and soothing. The whole altar was crowded with lilies. Lily only because that was the flower that the deceased always gave his wife in 50 years of their marriage.

Bette sat silently in the front row, so close to the coffin - looking at the man lying there stiff and breathless. She loved this man so much. He was more like a father to Bette more than her actual father had ever been. It killed her to see him lying on his bed the last view years, helpless and weak. Stomach cancer had sucked up all the life out this once a fine man, a kind person who was never hesitated to go the distance to helped everybody. And he had helped Bette in so many ways that she was now crushed with grievance to see this man dead on the coffin.

Bette sighed and her thought travel back to early this morning when the phone rang at 6 o'clock in the morning, a very unusual hour for a social call so that could only mean either trouble or grieve.

Bette stood erect in front of her standing mirror, her heart beat so fast. She was up half an hour ago like usual, spend 30 minutes in front of the mirror not to admired but to inspect herself. She could never notice whether or not she has gain more weight than the last time because she always been fat since she was a little girl. It looked like her body stayed the same year after year, never lose weight, gain more weight, perhaps.

Bette took a deep breath to soothed her pounding heart. Not long after there was knocked on her door, it must be Wilbur, came with the news about the phone call. She opened the door and it was Wilbur indeed with his long, serious face, standing ever so straight as if he was in an army. In an instance Bette understood that the old butler came bringing a bad news.

"Mrs. Allenby called to inform that Mr. Allenby had passed away, ma'am," He said.

"Oh," Bette felt a stinging pain in her eyes, the tears ran down through her chubby cheek. "Thank you, Wilbur," she said with shaky voice. "Oh, and Wilbur, please do not tell Aunt Elda about this news, I will be the one to break the news."

"Understood, ma'am."

Bette sat on her bed, still with the tears in her eyes, thinking how hard it would be for her to break the news to Elda Allenby, Benjamin's little sister and Bette's closest aunt.

For years aunt Elda – that's how Bette address her benevolent aunt – has been sick with stroke. Doctor Jones told Bette to keep the old lady away from bad news that could disrupted her mind. And for years Bette had took care of Aunt Elda, keeping her away from all the domestic problem, from all the gossips and rumors around Sunny Side – that's the name of the house of Allenby for generations.

Every time problem happened in their household, Bette would be the one to solved it; fired one of the maid because she was caught stealing, keeping Benjamin's real condition as a secret from Elda - she told her Benjamin was sick but he was okay now and that the Doctors done a good job to healed him. But now Benjamin had passed away and she have lost her brilliant idea to smooth up the news. How could she told that kind of news to Aunt Elda without making her even sicker than she already was?

In her clouded and distressed mind, Bette found herself in Carrie's room, sitting in the bedside, tried to wake Carrie.

Carrie was Elda Allenb's second daughter. She used to be a troubled child when she decided 15 years ago that she was ready to be a bride when she just hit first year of college.

The marriage didn't last long; well, it lasted long enough for Carrie to gave birth to a baby girl that she named Emilia, but not long enough to be called a serious marriage. It lasted only a year and a half. She was once a lost soul after her painful but quite predictable divorce but then the late Benjamin Allenby reached out to her and helped her out of the misery and turned her into a pickled food empress who owned the largest pickled food factory in all Britain.

"Carrie dear," said Bette without realizing that tears had rolled away in her cheek.

"What happened?" said Carrie. She sat erect in her bed with her heart palpitated.

"It's Ben."

"Oh," Carrie put her hand to her mouth and then cried.

They both cried and hugged.

"Oh, Bette, I didn't get to say goodbye to old Ben!" exclaimed Carrie.

"So did I. I miss Ben already," Bette wiped her tears. "Now, another issue, how are we going to break the news to aunt Elda?"

"Oh! Mom will be broken hearted! She'll drop, Bette! Maybe we shouldn't tell her!"

"Carrie, it's her brother, don't you think that she ought to know?"

"Who's going to tell her then? I couldn't bear telling her the news, I'll break down and cry before I could even say anything," Carrie sighed with frustration. "Oh, Bette, maybe we should get Doctor Jones here. He'll break the news and stand by if mom has a fit or drop."

"That's a good idea! The Doctor Jones part, but don't you think that one of her family should tell her, it wouldn't be nice if a stranger like Doctor Jones break the news."

"You're right. Well, then we both should tell her but get Doctor Jones before we do, just in case."

"I agree! And Carrie, you should tell Josephine. She'll rise up aunt Elda spirit if she could come."

"Good idea! You go call Doctor Jones and I call Josephine."

Not long after, Doctor Jones arrived at Sunny Side. He was an old Doctor and has been a family physician ever since the old man Allenby first moved to Sunny Side. He was always efficient and have the air of honesty and trust that his patient always finds very soothing to be attended by him. Sunny Side relied solely in his care.

"Doctor Jones is here. Did you talk to Josephine?" asked Bette when she bumped into Carrie in the hallway.

"Yes, I did."

"Should I set up her room?"

"No, don't bother. She'll be here for the funeral tomorrow but she won't stay. She has a fashion week to attend to," There was a note of resentment in Carrie's voice. She was obviously upset about her big sister, Josephine who was always a workaholic. "Let her be, small town don't match with Josephine anyway. Let's go to mom, are you ready?"

"I never ready when it comes to bad news. But it has to be done."

Funny thing about people was that they always have a way to surprised you even when you think you could predict their reaction. Bette spent her morning thinking of smooth ways to break the grieving news to Elda but still maintain the old lady's health condition. She and Carrie went to so much trouble of planning to tell the old lady that her beloved brother had passed away. When they did break the news, Elda cried, yes, she is hurt, yes but nothing serious happened to her, she even had enough strength to go to the funeral house. Doctor Jones was very pleased with the outcome as well. One less patient to attend today.

And so there they were – Elda Allenby, Carrie Allenby, Emilia Allenby and Bette - sitting in the front row, silently saying a prayer for the late Benjamin Allenby, hoping that he finally found freedom and peace in heaven.

Bette's mind were filled with the memories of Benjamin that she didn't realized she was alone in the front row. Elda Allenby had asked Carrie to take her outside for a fresh air, Nora Allenby – the wife of the deceased - followed them and Emilia had found that her best friend Joan Sinclair was at the funeral house so the 2 teenagers went outside as well to catch up. But Bette stayed sit, her prayer was a long one for beloved Benjamin.

Her string of thoughts were disrupted when she heard a sob coming from the row next to her. It was a wounded, broken hearted sob that happened when you ran out of strength because you have been crying your eyes out for hours and the sob is the only thing you could manage.

She looked to where the sob came from and found a man sitting with his palms on his face, his body shaken to the rhythm of his sob. Bette didn't know the man, never seen him around and yet he looked so crushed by the death of Benjamin Allenby.

Normally Bette always felt nervous when dealing with man, except man that she knews all her life but to stranger man she couldn't even produce one word! Her heart would pounded so fast, her palms sweat, she perspired heavily more than she usually did, and she would feel her knees melted away that she would cut the conversation short and ran for her life. She always thought maybe that was why she never once had a boyfriend and that was probably why she is not married at 40.

However, this man was different. He looked so vulnerable that Bette couldn't ignored him anymore. The strange thing was that Bette didn't feel nervous to got closer to him and sat next to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

The man rose his face, his eyes swollen, his face wet with tears and perhaps sweat, and he looked disheveled. "No, I'm not alright," He said.

"I see, I'm sorry that's a stupid question. Do you know Ben?"

"He saved my life."

"Ben always did that, saving lives," Bette sat straight, eyes to the coffin. "He was the nicest person I have ever known all my life. He saved me too,"

Now the man turned his head to look at Bette, "Yes, I owed him much, you know," For the first time since he started crying, he let out a tiny smile. Reminiscing smile. "I'm George."

"I'm Bette," They shook hands and exchange smiles.

"I have no idea why he passed away, I don't even know if he was sick!"

"Stomach cancer." Bette continued, "He had been suffered for view years,"

Bette looked at the man sitting next to her, "You didn't know?"

"I have been away for some time, I haven't come back here since the day I left."

"I see," Bette touched his shoulder in a friendly way and smile reassuringly. "I'm sure Ben is happy now that you're here and I believe that he is now free from suffering. That should be enough for us to let him go, knowing that he is suffered no more. "

"Thank you, Bette." Said George, he held her hand and they both smiled.

"George?" a surprised exclamation coming from the front door.

It was a gorgeous looking old woman, slim and tall in her black tight dress with ruffles on the bottom, so elegant. She was wearing black veil covering half her face. Her hair were all white. It was Veronica Sinclair. A rich widow of Albert Sinclair and a close friend of the Allenby. Veronica has a dominant personality and a sharp tongue to matched it. But she was also a compassionate and thoughtful person to those whom she was fond of, although it were only a small number of people.

"Oh, George!" she exclaimed again and rushed to embrace her little brother.

"Veronica," said George. "You didn't tell me anything about Ben!" there was a hint of suppress anger in his voice.

"Hello, Bette dear!" Veronica hugged Bette. "I see you have met my brother, George."

"Yes, I have. You never told me that you have a brother."

"Oh, he went away for years! You can hardly remember ever having a brother if that brother hardly visit you all these years! How long has it been, George? Oh, I know, twenty long years!"

"Veronica! Just stop it, okay? I'm honestly not in the mood for a fight with you," George sighed desperately. "Why didn't you tell me about Ben being sick? You could've called or maybe write a line to me about Ben. You wrote all those useless letter filled with gossips I don't care about but you left out one thing that matters most to me!"

"Oh, baby brother, I just..." Veronica looked down, seemed remorse, "I just didn't want to upset you."

"But don't you think I need to know something as important as this?" he stretched his arm, gesturing this whole funeral home as the most important news and it was a mistake to ever kept him in the dark. "Do you plan to never tell me anything? Ever?"

"George," Veronica sighed, "How did you found out?"

"Nora called me, Veronica!" he raised his voice.

Bette felt quite surprised to know that George was actually Veronica's little brother. She never knew that Veronica has a long lost little brother. And now, clearly they needed time for themself, so Bette walked out of the room, leaving the sibling to talked.

It was midday when Elda asked Bette to take her back home, she felt tired and wanted to get some rest. Bette wheeled her aunt to the funeral home driveway, awaiting their car. After view minutes, a black Rolls Royce stopped in front of the church and John, the chauffer opened the door and helped Bette transported Elda from the wheel chair to the car.

"Bette!" George walked fast towards her. "Mrs. Allenby!" he exclaimed and embrace the old lady in the wheel chair.

"Oh, Georgie! Oh my lord! Look at you!" she caressed George's face, tears rolled down in her eyes. "You're getting old!"

"I miss you, Mrs. Allenby." He said and kissed the old lady in the temple.

"I miss you too, George. It's been a very long time, you never visit or call or write to me," Elda took Bette hand, "Bette darling, this is George, he and Benjamin have always been so close. He's like a son to Benjamin."

"We met, aunt Elda," Said George smiling at Bette. He sighed, "I'm so sorry about Benjamin. If I had known that he was sick I would've come sooner."

"Oh, that's okay, darling. Veronica didn't tell you anything, did she?"

"As per usual. She wrote mostly about father estate and forcing me back to take over, always that and she failed to tell me anything about Ben," George shook his head.

"That's Veronica all right." Elda continued, "Listen, George, I need to leave now, I'm so tired but you come by the house anytime. I would love to catch up." John lifted her up from the wheel chair and sat her inside the car.

"Yes, mrs. Allenby. Have a pleasant rest," He turned to look at Bette and they walked a little farther from the car. "Thank you, Bette. I felt so much better talking to you in there."

"You're welcome, George." She smiled, revealing her white, pearl teeth. "I too felt so much better talking to you. I think we all just need somebody to talk to."

"So, you're living with mrs. Allenby?"

"Yes, it's a long story."

"I love to hear it sometime," Said George. "Maybe we could go out some other time and catch up on the long story?"

"I would love that," Bette looked at the car and realized she had to hurry. "I have to go. You get some needed rest, George, you need it badly."

In the front door of the funeral house, Carrie and Veronica were standing side by side, waiting for their car to picked them up when Carrie caught sight of Bette and George talking so close, she poked Veronica.

"Well, would you look at that?" said Carrie directing Veronica to looked at the sight she was seeing.

"Oh my!"

"Yup, no nervous, no melted knee, no shaky hands," Carrie smiled proud looking at how for the first time Bette looked so comfortable talking to a man.

"Even from his grave, Benjamin always do wonder," Veronica smiled too, she loved what was seemed to be brewing on the other side. It was most definitely the beginning of love and she was sure of it.

The funeral was held the next day and it was a beautiful ceremony. Benjamin Allenby might have been an old man and usually the death of an old man seldom sadden anybody because they're old and it is expected but in Ben's case it was different. He was cried for, he was hard to lose because everybody loved him. But at the end of the funeral service they all felt a little better, now that they believed Benjamin had rested peacefully and felt pain nor suffering no more.

It was 1 o'clock in the morning when Veronica was startled with a ringing of a phone in her bedside. This was definitely not a proper time for any phone call, she tried to ignore it but the ring sounded so persistent that she had no choice but to answered it.

"Halo!" she said annoyingly.

"May I speak with Mrs. Sinclair, please?" the voice over the phone sounded shaky and old.

"This is she."

"Mrs. Sinclair, this is Eugene Paddie, the graveyard undertaker."

"Yes, Mr. Paddie?" now Veronica sounded frightened rather than angry. Her heart pounded so loud.

"You brother, Ma'am, Mr. George is sleeping on Mr. Allenby's graveyard, he is drunk and now he is yelling."

Veronica could hear a faint sound of yelling and screaming of a distress man. "Oh, for god sake!" she sighed with relieved. She thought this old graveyard undertaker would say something scary or bring bad news because nothing scarier than a midnight call from a graveyard undertaker.

"Can you pick him up, ma'am?"

"Yes, Mr. Paddie, I'll be right there." she hang up.

Veronica caressed her chest to soothed her pounding heart. She took a deep breath before she got up from bed and suddenly a struck of genius came to her. She picked up her phone and dialed a number she knew so well.

It was awfully late to call someone and troubled them with one's affair but to Veronica she was on a mission of love and manners didn't include in the success of the mission. She listened to the dial tone, rhythm, hoping that the one she called for will answer it. She was determined to make this worked even if she had to woke the entire house on the other side of the phone line.

"Halo?" Bette answer the phone from the kitchen.

Bette was the one that Veronica was aiming and thank faith that she was the one who picked up the phone. Although Bette herself almost didn't answer. It was late and to be honest she was kind of nervous to answer an unusual phone call in the middle of the night.

"Bette?"

"Veronica?" Bette sighed.

It was Veronica and less likely she would bring bad news, thought Bette. Veronica hated bad news, there was always Herbert, the old butler in Veronica's house to do that for her. If Veronica called directly than you can bet it was something to chat on, a juicy gossip. "Do you know what time it is?"

"You haven't sleep, Bette? You don't sound like you have."

"I couldn't sleep, I.."

Veronica didn't let her finished, "Wonderful! Than you can help me, can't you, dear?"

"Help you? Whatever could I be of help to you in the middle of the night?"

"Yes. You see, Bette I just got a phone call from the graveyard undertaker, Mr. Paddie, you know him, right? Well, he called me and told me that George is sleeping in Benjamin's grave, he is drunk and yelling so loud! Can you believe that man! Ridiculous! You think that in his fifty he would be more sensible!"

"He is sleeping in Ben's graveyard? Oh my Veronica! He must've felt so hurt by Ben's death."

"Well, Darling, could you please pick him up and bring him home? It is late and I'm old and scared driving around to the graveyard and I saw you two talking I thought you might be friends with each other so perhaps you could talk to him, you know to cheer him up."

"I don't know, Veronica, do you think he'll mind me?"

"Mind you? Whatever do you mean? I think he likes talking to you,"

"Well, I guess I can help you then."

"Thank you so much, Bette darling! I know I could count on you."

Veronica hang up and satisfied with herself, she had accomplished her mission of love and now she could went back to sleep with smile on her face.

Bette took out her favorite car; a 1993 Ford Mustang Convertible. This was her first car, a gift from Elda when she finished high school. And for years even when the car was old Bette always took good care of it even when she didn't drive this one as much as she liked to.

She packed up a thermos of coffee and 2 cups; it was a cold night and surely a pot of coffee would be very much appreciated and she knew well that George was desperately in need for coffee now.

She parked her car in the front yard of the church and spotted old Eugene Paddie walked down from his little home beside the church to met her. He was a thin, old man, and has been the graveyard and church undertaker for 30 years.

"Miss Bette?" he said.

"Yes, Eugene, I'm here to collect the drunk man." They laughed.

"He is right there, " Eugene pointed to the west, it was unseen from where they stand but Bette knew exactly where that was. "And now he is crying, Ms. Bette."

"I hope he's not troubling you, Eugene?" Bette reached for the coffee thermos and cup and took her emergency light that shaped like an oil lamp as well.

"Not at all, I'm just worried he might catch a cold or something."

"Don't worry," Bette turned on the emergency lamp. "Get some sleep, Eugene, I got this," And off she went, walking from tombstone to tombstone and she could hear a faint cry in the air, slowly the sound became clearer and closer.

She put the lamp in the head of the tombstone and found George shocking face, looking at her like he was looking at a ghost. He clearly was drunk, with his puffy eyes and mud smeared face as a tale tell sign that he has been here for quite some time.

"Hi, George," Bette sat in the grass next to him. "Coffee?" she poured out a cup of hot coffee and passed it to George.

"Thank you," George looked at the woman sat beside him with wonder and somewhat relieved that after spending hours and hours, crying alone, a friend came to his rescue. "However did you find me here?"

"Chain of information," Bette giggled. "Eugene, the undertaker called Veronica and Veronica called me, she asked me to bring you home."

George scoffed, "Veronica! Always treat everybody else like her personal maid, doesn't she have enough maid working on the clock for her!"

"I'm happy too that she called, you know," Bette sipped her coffee. "I get to sit here and chat with you, having a long story telling that we said we're going to have, remember?"

"I do," George said. "I'm sorry to have bother you, Bette. But I'm so sad, I feel like I lost a father, half of my self exist because of this man, and I didn't even know that he was sick all this time. I wrote him letter but never received any reply I just thought maybe he was busy so I just brushed it off. And Veronica! Jesus Christ! That woman really annoy me! How long did she think she could keep information like this a secret from me? I regret that I wasn't here, beside him when he was sick."

"I understand, George. But you can't blame yourself or anybody for any of this, especially not Veronica. I know she withheld information from you but I think I could understand her aiming. I probably would do the same with Aunt Elda if I could. I wanted to withheld every bad news from her. I'm scared that I wind up upsetting her and her heart give up. But Ben was her brother and she needed to know. Veronica loves you so dearly, she just didn't want to upset you, and yes she might've made a mistake about not telling you but that I think was her instinct to protect you no matter how wrong that was. You should be able to read between a lines."

"I know. I just...I wish I could've done something for Ben." George wiped his tears, "You must think that I'm a sissy for crying like this."

Bette laughed, "No, you're not, George, you are sad and crying will make you feel better," Bette sounded so blue again, "then again, Benjamin Allenby is someone worth crying for."

"Yes, he was," George sipped his coffee and he actually felt a little better. He looked at the stars and all the memory came back to his mind. "He saved my life. I was a bad man back then."