Panic settled in my gut, slowly rising up my esophagus, but I pushed it back. It slid down my throat into my belly like the sludge at the bottom of a cold cup of coffee.
This damn woman was so pathetic. Laid out in front of me, broken, destroyed by her own demons. She couldn’t answer, nor would she ever be able to plead her case or give me the answers I wanted. She couldn’t explain what I’d always wanted to know—neededto know.
My dad had begged to come with me today, but I’d said no. He didn’t deserve to see me mourn a woman who had wronged him so.
It wasn’t the body or the casket in front of me causing the hot tears to roll down my cheeks. It was the possibility of what should have been, what could have been mine, and way more. A lifetime of opportunities lost—at least half a lifetime. I would have taken it.
The possibilities had been endless when I’d met Bev and Sheila. At that point, I could have held my mom tight in my arms for the first time in my short eighteen years of life. I’d dreamed of it.
“Emerson, let’s go. It’s enough pain.”
I startled as Bev’s hand ran down my back and she spoke in my ear.
These past few days, I couldn’t shake Bev if I’d tried. She’d insisted on staying with me, helping me get ready for the funeral, and riding with me in a cab to the funeral home. Sheila had come separately and was sitting in the pews, waiting for the service to start.
I’d been sleeping in Bev’s bed with her for the last few nights, feeling so fortunate that my amazing friend had found both forgiveness and compassion for me. My tears flooded my pillow, not only for my mom, but for him.Price.
He was gone. It was my doing, but he was gone, nonetheless. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking. I couldn’t even spell my own name the last few days.
“Em, please, don’t do this to yourself. You heard the man ... her husband,” she said softly, careful not to mention Price’s father’s name. “She regretted her choice, but she didn’t have control. She spiraled for most of her life, finding only small pockets of happiness. And you know your dad supports you. He’s been enough. It’s hard to understand it, but he’s been there for you.”
I shook my head. Why couldn’t I have lived in one of those pockets?
“She doesn’t look like the photo your mom showed me,” I whispered back, running my hand down my face, swiping away the tears as I studied my mom. They’d plumped her up with whatever they did to dead bodies, painting her face with too much makeup and covering her rail-thin body with long sleeves and pants.
“She hasn’t for a long while. Come on, let’s go. You saw. There’s nothing more to say.” Bev pulled on my arm.
Staring at my dead mom, I dug in my heels and stayed put. I didn’t let my hand touch the casket, refused to allow myself to say a silent prayer for her, yet tiny wishes for her to be at peace crept into my brain.
The woman inside the box didn’t deserve my prayers. But I deserved something.
I’d been denied, and it hurt. Not on a superficial level, but in a way more visceral.
Completely drained, I turned to walk away from the casket, my gaze glued to the carpet, the heat ofhisstare on my back, the singe ofhistouch brushing my hand as I stumbled past, never once stopping.
Price stood tall, his feet grounded as he waited for me to come to him, while the other one—his father—he wept silently in the corner, waiting for my condolences.
I didn’t go to either of them.
“I can’t stay,” I said, leaning into Bev. “I can’t do this. I’m sure she was a wonderful person at some point in her life, but I can’t hear it.”
I couldn’t talk anymore. The admission was too much. This was my mom, and now I found myself not able to care. The hurt, the burning pain in my gut, it was too much.
Bev nodded and guided me out the door. She knew there were no words, no platitudes, nothing she could say, and my appreciation for that was unending.
“Emerson!”
Price chased after me into the early autumn day. He didn’t get there was nothing he could say. He didn’t understand I was barely holding myself together by a thread. After all, he was a dude. He had a primal need to fix this.
I rushed out of the church ... it was so different from home here. No salt hanging in the air, only mixed with the tears streaming down my face. The world around me was crisp, a light breeze fluttering the dry leaves along the sidewalk. A complete contradiction to the raging feelings punching their way through my bloodstream. I was like a fighter primed on fight night, pumped up and angry, wanting to punch the first face I saw.
“Emerson!”
Bev squeezed my shoulder. “Em, he’s desperate to talk with you.”
“Emerson!” Price caught up with us. “Please, stop.”
I hadn’t even realized Bev had let me go, and it was now Price holding me, letting me lean on him.
