A shadow fell over the grass before I could get back up.

Pastor Glenn Higgins was standing on the gravel path with his hands clasped behind his back.

He straightened his glasses by the corners of the frames and looked down at the white shells at his feet.

He cleared his throat twice before he spoke.

“I saw your car parked by the curb, Ona,” he said.

“I was putting down the flowers for the week,” I said.

“Evelyn was a faithful woman,” he said, moving closer to the edge of the lawn.