When Doris first awoke on the morning of Casey"s funeral, she had not intended on partaking of the services. Instead, she would do exactly as she had done every morning for the past twenty years. She would open the Truck Stop Café for breakfast, work through lunch, and go home around four–in spite of Harlan"s insistence she would be “waiting on an empty café.” Only after Doris saw the look on Carly"s face when the girl learned Doris would not be there did she agree to attend.
“I don"t think I"ll be able to face this alone,” Carly had said. Standing near the bandstand, awaiting the arrival of the casket, Doris came to fully appreciate Carly"s instincts. Doris could only marvel at the scene.
Every inch of the Cranston town square had been draped in cloth of red, white and blue that seemed
