Having extended their sympathy to the grieving family, Richard and Edward departed after a brief stay. Edward's primary concern was Richard driving home alone, especially given the early morning hour.
After recalling his grandfather's words, Trevon stood in the courtyard and looked around. He had a feeling that something was missing. Despite the presence of numerous people, the atmosphere lacked the upbeat energy his grandfather had cherished during his lifetime.
After a few seconds of silence, he ordered, "Jim, set up some Euchre tables in the courtyard. Also, get a few decks of poker cards ready."
Hearing this, Jim, who was tidying up the venue, hurried inside the villa after replying, "Alright, I will get it done immediately."
Hackett stooped down and retrieved the trash from Jim's hands, offering his assistance in disposing of it. "Okay, go ahead and make the arrangements. Leave this task to me and Frank," he said.
Meeting Jim's concerned gaze, Hackett sensed a hint of condescension. He furrowed his brows and sarcastically remarked, "Hey, I've got a pair of hands, and believe it or not, I do know how to toss out the trash."
"Sure. Please do. I will attend to my tasks now." Jim glanced at the trash in Hackett's hand before leaving.
Hackett asked Trevon, "Why did he look at me like that? Did he think I can't be trusted?"
Trevon, who was not in the mood for jests, merely gave Hackett a brief glance. Despite Hackett's attempt to alleviate his friend's grief, he found little success.
Hackett scratched his head in frustration, feeling at a loss. While he excelled in banter and teasing, comforting someone in a solemn setting was not his strong suit.
Certainly, if he attempted to console Trevon so seriously, there was a risk of either giving Trevon nightmares or him being sent to the base for a free physical examination.
Not long after.
A truck made its way slowly into the Wilson's residence. Once it came to a stop, Jim hopped down from the front passenger seat and directed the courier to bring the Euchre tables to the courtyard. Only three tables were delivered, as Jim believed a smaller, more intimate gathering was preferable. After all, an excess of tables would lead to unwanted noise rather than fostering a lively atmosphere.
Natalie emerged with red eyes and noticed the Euchre tables in the courtyard. Feeling perplexed, she approached Trevon and gently patted his arm. In a hoarse voice, she inquired, "Why set this up?"
Trevon clasped her hand, offering a gentle squeeze. His expression remained stoic, and his eyes carried a somber tone as he uttered, "You see, Grandpa always enjoyed a lively atmosphere."
He did not arrange his grandfather's funeral service in a hotel; instead, everything was organized in the Wilson's residence. After all, it was his grandfather's home and would be his lifelong home. As a result, Trevon opted not to host the funeral at a different location.
Ultimately, his concern revolved around the idea that if the funeral were held at the hotel, his grandfather might struggle to find his way home. Despite not holding a belief in the heavens or fate on a usual basis, today, for some inexplicable reason, he found himself swayed by such superstitions.
After a prolonged silence, Natalie expressed her concern, saying, "Dad locked himself in the study and is reading Grandpa's letter over and over again."
"Yeah, don't worry. He can handle himself," he reassured, specifically referring to Caleb.
"Trevon, don't you think the card game will disturb Grandpa?" In the distance, the Euchre tables were set up. Meanwhile, Hackett had taken a seat and was tapping on the table, awaiting Trevon's comment.
Frank rested one hand on the table, leaning against it. He stretched his neck and sensed discomfort in his shoulders, recognizing a noticeable decrease in his physical strength.
Despite the funeral service already being arranged, they still sensed imperfection. As a result, they collaborated to make further adjustments, even rearranging the funeral flowers.
Seeing this, the funeral service professionals perceived a sense of disdain and experienced mild frustration.
Meanwhile, Chris was panting from exhaustion. His sleeves rolled up high, revealing the tenderest skin. While he was accustomed to the demands of the operating theater, this type of physical labor was a new experience for him. Performing surgery was tiring in its own right, but the fatigue from this kind of work was distinctly different. Despite the challenge, he did not slack off and remained busy until now.
"Let's play." With that, Trevon forced a smile. Leaning against the table, Frank lifted his hand to check the watch on his wrist. He raised his chin and spoke, "Go catch up on sleep. We will take care of things here. Your Grandpa won't feel lonely, okay? You still have a lot to attend to throughout the day anyway."
As dawn approached, more individuals were likely to arrive to offer their condolences. Every visitor, irrespective of their wealth or status, whether they were the wealthiest individual in Athana or the president, was regarded as a guest by Frank. Therefore, he deemed it essential to offer a polite greeting to all, considering it a fundamental requirement of etiquette.
Natalie shared the same sentiment. She was convinced that Trevon had foregone sleep the previous night, or else he would not have been able to promptly learn about Theo's passing. She feared that if Trevon continued to neglect rest, he would inevitably reach a point of exhaustion. Furthermore, as per Athana's custom, Theo's funeral was scheduled for five days, followed by the burial. In essence, it seemed improbable that Trevon could endure extended sleep deprivation.
Natalie tried to persuade Trevon by saying, "Take a nap with me. Just for an hour."
Surprisingly, Trevon did not decline and instead nodded slightly. "Yes." As Trevon was about to speak, Hackett and Chris chimed in together, saying, "Don't worry, we'll keep an eye on things."
Frank assured, "We'll ensure that everything goes smoothly."
Trevon replied, "Thanks."
Prior to Natalie and Trevon heading upstairs, they instructed the servants on their tasks and responsibilities. They also took the time to console Mary and Gage. Amongst everyone in the villa, Mary displayed the deepest sorrow, shedding the most tears. Meanwhile, Gage sought solace in a corner, clutching the chess piece that belonged to Theo during his lifetime. In a hushed tone, he whispered something, wiping away his tears as he spoke.
As the couple reached the staircase leading upstairs, Natalie inquired whether Trevon wished to visit his father. Trevon replied that there was no need, emphasizing that his father needed time to process the news on his own. Adult emotions, he believed, could not be easily dispelled through persuasion. Most of the time, they preferred to come to terms with things in their own way.
In the courtyard, the clear sound of poker cards being shuffled resonated loudly, giving the impression that each card could be distinctly heard in the air. Seated around a table were Frank, Hackett, Jim, and Chris.
"How much do you want to bet?" Hackett inquired of the other three players as if he were flush with cash.
Even though Theo was good to Jim, he had no intention of relinquishing his family assets at this moment, especially since he had not yet found a wife. "I will say another prayer in a while," he announced.
"Hey, you're openly flattering Mr. Wilson. Well, I have to bid him farewell too." Hackett stood up from his chair and offered a solemn prayer to Theo's black-and-white photo.
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