She clutches my hands. “You’re the absolute sweetest. Come sit.”
I find myself following Sebastian’s mom to the only empty chair, which happens to be next to the one person I’m worried about seeing. I gulp down my nerves as I cross into his line of sight. He continues staring straight ahead. Pretends he doesn’t notice me. I’m quiet as a mouse as I shuffle onto the seat and make myself comfortable. I get one semi-reassuring glance from Sebastian on Colson’s other side, but it does nothing to calm the unsteadiness in my bones as I sit and do what everyone else does.
We stare at the closed casket before us. It’s perched above the ground, and at some point, it’ll be lowered into the hole beneath it. There’s a picture of Colson’s mother from when she was younger close to it. She was gorgeous, with long glossy hair and clear hazel eyes. It’s easy to see her resemblance to Bess. Before her life choices impacted her appearance.
Time passes, but unlike a normal burial service, there isn’t someone to say a prayer or offer a eulogy on behalf of the deceased.
I pick at my nails and glance at Colson’s back. I wish I was brave enough to reach over, extend my condolences, and comfort him. I’m deathly—a real fitting word considering our surroundings—afraid of reaching out and ruining this for him. Frightened he’ll snap like one too many rubber bands wrapped around each other.
A single rose sits atop his mom’s casket, and I realize that if roles were reversed, I’d want his comfort. Even if it felt like I couldn’t take one more breath and all I wanted was to be left alone with my thoughts, I’d want someone there for me.
I scrutinize my cuticles one last time and breathe in a steadying breath.I can do this.My hand is cold, chilled downto the bone from the winter air, but warms as soon as my palm glides over the scratchy sweater stretched over his back.
Turns out, I am brave enough. That, or I just really like to torture myself when it comes to Colson. I hold my breath, half expecting his muscles to jump, for him to jerk his shoulder in a way that says,get the hell off me. My eyes flutter shut when that doesn’t happen.
My chest nearly caves in, and Lord knows I’m about ready to sob as if I personally knew Janie Moore. I’ve missed this man so much. I miss his stoic expressions, the goofy text messages he’d send throughout his workdays, how he’d come back to my apartment in the evenings and never once left me wondering if he missed me.
Someone sniffles. I’m pretty sure it’s him, and my eyes snap over to his back where my hand gently moves up and down. Sebastian gives me a conspiratorial glance as if to say,this is it. I hope you’ve been lifting weights because you’re going to have to hold up your side of the crumbling man between us.
I fold my lips into my mouth and endure the back and forth of wanting and not wanting to curl closer into his side. When his shoulders wobble with a weep, I can’t hold back. The fight in my head vanishes, as does everything around me.
My hand moves from his back to the top of his leg where I can access it from the way he sits. His elbows are still perched on his thighs, but the second he feels me there, he drops one of his hands to mine. A jolt of comfort shoots through me, and I’m quick to entwine my fingers through his. He holds onto me like he slipped on a rock and tumbled over a cliff, and I’m the only one available to pull him back to solid ground. His other hand moves to his face, and he presses the heel of his palm to his eyes. It kills me every time his shoulders wrack the tiniest bit.
What was I thinking?
Notwanting to come today?
Sebastian was right.
Heneedsme.
Even if he might not see it.
Even if I’m scared.
Even if he broke up with me.
I scoot to the edge of my seat and run my free hand over his sweater-clad arm. The material is coarse, but I bet it’s the last thing he’s thinking about. No one cares about the little things when their heart is so tragically close to splintering.
“I’m here,” I promise in a muffled tone. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He doesn’t respond, but I know he can’t right now. He’s lost at sea in the middle of a storm. Holding my hand doesn’t immediately draw him out of it but guides him to shore. I’m his lighthouse, throwing out bright, luminous light every other second in hopes it’ll bring him closer and closer to home.
Closer to me.
THIRTEEN
VIOLET
After a while,Bess and Thad quietly rise from their chairs and walk over to the casket. Bess places her palm on it and gazes at Janie’s picture. I imagine she’s saying goodbye and wishing she could have done more for her. I can’t be certain, I’m not in her head, but I feel like it’s something I’d say if I were in her shoes.
Bess offers a reminder to Colson before they retreat, saying that they’ll have to head out soon. I assume for the appointment Sebastian told me about. Thad clamps his hand down on his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze. His way of telling him that he’s not alone.
I like his uncle even more for the gesture; his one small action speaks the weight of a thousand words.
He and Colson have that in common.
They’re gone a minute later, and it’s just the three of us. Sebastian is so inaudible you wouldn’t think he’s there, but I can sense him wanting to provide help, if needed.
