Kieran: Actually…
3 YEARS AGO
BLACK CLOTHES DIDN’T suit the Mills twins. Neither did grief.
Kieran had waited at the end of the line of hugs and tears and words that tried so hard to comfort. Atticus and Sammie had borne it all beautifully as over two hundred people had walked past the casket, past them, to share a moment of mourning with the grandchildren who’d been left behind with Greta’s passing. Kieran could see it wearing on both of them, as the receiving line dwindled.
Funerals were a strange affair in some ways. Listening to how confident the preacher spoke of a time when they would all see Greta again, and yet neither of her grandchildren had even a spark of hope to light their mourning faces. Then the entire well-wishing community had paraded before them. Greta had been loved by many people, but Kieran sort of wished this day felt more like a celebration. A time for Sammie and Atticus revel in the fond memories, not for their immense grief to be put on display for everyone they’d ever known.
The funeral parlor had emptied significantly. Kieran’s parents were talking with Atticus in hushed tones, Grant with a hand on his shoulder, Meredith pulling him into a tight embrace. Sammie wasn’t there anymore, at her brother’s side. Kieran glanced around, but she was nowhere to be found.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. He’d opted for grey that morning, a soft dove shade that made his own sadness feel a little less jagged around the edges. Kieran hadloved Greta as though she were family. He’d spent so much time in her house that it had become a second home to him. She’d always given him a bright smile when he came back from Seattle, was always there at his family’s dinner table for every gathering. The Mills and the McCulloughs had leaned on each other for support for years, and Greta had become a sort of matriarch for them all.
Atticus stood alone as Kieran approached, a piece of paper in his hands that he tucked into his own suit pocket.
“Want a hug?”
They’d never really been huggers, because teenage boys hugging in rural America? Ha. But they were both grown now, and Atticus looked more broken than Kieran had ever seen him. His bleached-blonde hair hung limp over his forehead, the dark roots grown out too far. Dark circles left his blue eyes in shadow, the irises ringed in red.
Atticus sucked in a sharp breath as he nodded, and Kieran reached out, tugging him close. His friend’s shoulders shook with silent sobs as Kieran held him tight. Atticus clung to him like a lifeline, like he could finally drop the facade of strength that he’d held up while hundreds of people told him how much they’d miss his grandmother.
Kieran didn’t say anything. He just let Atticus cry, the two of them alone with Greta’s casket in the big room.
“I, uh…” Atticus pulled back from the hug, swiping at his eyes. “I need to find Sammie. She’s not okay. She’s been holding it all in for days while I fall apart over and over again, she hasn’t evencriedyet, but she was shaking at the end. I need to—”
“I’ll go find her.” Kieran squeezed Atticus’ arm. “Why don’t you go find some water and hide for a while. Then find my parents, and let them take care of you.”
Atticus nodded, sniffling and clenching his jaw against more tears. He headed off to do what he’d been told as Kieran sent aquick text to his mother, asking her to keep an eye on him. To focus Atticus on his next steps one at a time until this long day finally came to a close.
Kieran searched the rooms in the funeral home one by one. There was no sign of Sammie, but he hadn’t really expected her to be there. He had an idea of where she might have gone, though, and headed out into the warm summer day.
The afternoon sun was bright, not a cloud in the sky, and as Kieran walked down the side of the road, he wished he’d thought to grab a pair of sunglasses out of his car. Other vehicles were already forming a procession and would soon be heading toward the small cemetery on the other side of town. Kieran walked in the opposite direction.
The town he’d grown up in was small. Sure, there were sprawling farms on the outskirts, but the center of town was made up of a main square and a few bustling blocks of mostly local businesses, nothing more. If someone wanted a Big Mac or some fast fashion, they had to drive twenty-five minutes to the next city over.
Kieran passed the restaurant that used to belong to Greta. It was a taco place now, the third business that had tried to grow roots in that spot since she’d sold. It added a new layer to the town’s grief, the fact that the business she’d run for so long just couldn’t be replicated these days.
The small park was still there, with its sandy volleyball court and old, rusty swing sets. A few children ran about, scrambling up a jungle gym, rolling around in the soft grass, kicking a ball back and forth close to the trees.
Sammie sat on one of the swings. She’d kicked her shoes off, and the fabric of her skirt fluttered around her calves as she gently swung herself back and forth. Her hair had been down at the funeral, every strand falling just so around her shoulders.Now it was tied back messily, some falling around her face, whipping in the wind as she kicked harder off the ground.
Kieran sat down on the swing next to her.
“Atticus is worried about you,” he said softly. Sammie slowed her swinging, her bare feet scuffing along the ground.
“I just need a minute.”
Kieran nodded. He slipped out of his suit jacket, folding it carefully before hanging it across one of the bars on the swing set.
They sat together for a good while, both of them kicking off the ground, letting the wind sing over their skin as the sun warmed them. Kieran could feel his own hair, shoulder-length now, tangling as he tilted his head back. He closed his eyes, and thought that he could spend the rest of the day like this. In the quiet, next to Sammie.
Soft sniffling caught his attention, and Kieran pulled himself out of his comfortable haze. Sammie had stopped swinging. She pressed the back of her hand to her trembling lips as she squeezed her eyes shut tight.
She hasn’t even cried yet.
Kieran dug the heels of his dress shoes into the ground, rising from the swing. He stepped in front of Sammie, kneeling down and pulling both of her hands into his.
“I thought I’d have more time,” Sammie whispered, her voice watery. Tears welled in her stormy eyes, tears that had yet to fall free. “I wasn’t ready, but I thought I’d have more time.”
