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Three days after the jig was up, the GlenOak Community Church was filled to the brim. It was mostly onlookers, people passing through just to see the goings on and give their take on what the story was. The large room was definitely a buzz, which made Wilson angry. This was time to mourn his wife, the one woman whom he had shared every aspect of himself with so willingly, and no one seemed to be aware of that. The entire situation, admittedly so, was disrespectful in a purposeful kind of way.

Wilson sat in the center of the third pew from the front on the right, with Billy on his left and George on his right. His mother had not come, a result of George's urging to not make any more of a spectacle out of the event and Mrs. West's lack of motivation to go. George and Billy both sat uncomfortably next to Wilson in their dark colored dress clothes. Neither of them knew what to do with a stone-faced Wilson, much less how they should be comforting him now. It was a foreign land for both of them.

Staring straight ahead with a slight pout on his face, Wilson was relatively emotionless. He knew exactly how he was feeling, but chose not to let the outside world the slightest glimpse into his head. The only person who had ever gotten that close was Mary. Now that she was gone, no one was ever getting that close to him again. He didn't have the strength to open up like that and get shot down once again.

His attention wasn't focused on any of that, however. He was much more concerned with the family sitting on the other side of the church, two rows in front of him. They were visible out of the corner of his eye, and that was a good thing, for he was afraid to intentionally look in their direction. From what he was able to see from where he sat, they were all hurt and angry. Sad, too, but more angry.

The Camdens were quiet as the neighborhood and church members came over to lend their condolences and pry into exactly what had happened to Mary. They all said nothing, not even to Chandler, Roxanne, Cecilia, or Peter when they questioned them with honorable intentions. The rumors were all flying around the church because they were not talking. People came up with everything from suicide to drug overdose to a car crash that was her fault.

This was the weirdest memorial service Wilson had ever attended. It was just a bunch of people sitting around in the church. Nothing was being said to remember Mary, and nothing was being done to preserve her memory. He knew that this should give him at least the smallest amount of closure, but it was giving him none at all.

Wilson wasn't the only one who knew this wasn't going very well. George excused himself from his nephew and his brother's side and stood up. He walked over to Chandler, who was sitting in the pew behind the Camdens, and tapped him on the shoulder. Wilson figured it was now safe to look over in their direction, solely to find out what George was up to. He saw Chandler motion to Eric, then shrug his shoulders, nod, and George walked to the front of the church. The lump in Wilson's throat tripled in size; he just wanted to go home.

George cleared his throat. "Excuse me." No one was listening. "Excuse me," he said slightly louder. Still, no one acknowledged his presence. "Can I have your attention for a moment?" he asked in almost a yell. Finally, people started to pay attention to George, taking their seats and quieting down to hear what he was going to say. Maybe he would offer them some sort of an explanation.

"I just, I wanted to say a few words about Mary, if I may." There seemed to be no objection from the masses, so he continued. "I just wanted to say what a beautiful woman she was, inside and out. She was gorgeous on the outside, as I am sure that you all know. But once you got past that, she really was an amazing person. She was smart, witty, funny, sweet, passionate, loving- anything good that can be said about any one of you sitting here can most likely be said about Mary, too.  But one of her best qualities, I think, was that she was so refreshing. Whenever I would see her, I could sort of breathe a sigh of relief; she was a real stress-reliever for me."

George paused for a moment as he realized that everyone was listening, even the Camdens. "Mary made my brother so happy. I am…or I was, her brother-in-law." The people who knew the Camdens better than the average GlenOak resident looked over in the Camden's direction, slightly stunned and bemused. No one was aware that Mary had married. "She loved him more than I ever knew that someone could love another person, and I know that Wilson felt the exact same about her. The two of them had such an amazing connection that at times it made me jealous. They were such a cute couple and I loved spending time with them together, seeing as though it got very lonely in my house all by myself." George's eyes glazed over. "I really am going to miss that…and her. She really meant a lot to both of us," he said referring to himself and Wilson, "and she'll be forever in our hearts."

Quietly, George walked back over to his seat and sat down. Wilson, using all of the strength he had left from forcing himself not to cry, reached up and patted George on the shoulder. George smiled slightly; he knew that that was Wilson-ese for "thank you." He had done a good deed and he knew it, but now was certainly not the time to get cocky.

Wilson slowly turned to look down at Billy. He had tears running down his cheeks, but he was trying once again to put on his bravest face for his father. He had seen his dad depressed many a time, and it always made Billy feel the same way inside- terrible. Billy grabbed Wilson's big hand in his little one and squeezed it tightly. "Uncle George is right," he said resolutely, "she'll always be in our hearts. It will be OK Dad."

Inside, Wilson was sobbing. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. The combination of pity, anger, and judgment were eating away at his last shreds of mental and emotional stability. He needed to get away from everyone and just be alone. That was all he had wanted since Mary had passed, to be by himself and reflect on the last five months of his life. He had to make sure that he remembered them, savored every last detail. He was convinced that they would be the last happy times he would have for a while, if not for the rest of his life.

Wilson turned back to the front of the church, expressionless. His lips pursed together and his pout reformed. Nothing would ever be the same again, nothing.

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A/N: So, what did you guys think of the nondescript "memorial service" for our beloved Mary. I know she will always be in my heart. ::tear:: I think this chapter was OK. Not that great.

Next chapter is the last. It's going to be a little in the future, somewhere in the realm of a week or two. I haven't quite decided when yet. It's going to be a little bit different of a concept, too. I feel it is going be suck really badly, but that maybe it won't. That's just what my gut is telling.

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Will Mary always be in your heart? Review and tell me how big of a chunk you've allotted her.