“We’ll see if I can write this album.” I laugh.
“You will, man,” Liam says, patting me on the back.
We start walking as a group, up the steps to the municipal building. It’s warm for June, feeling more like August, but the sun is shining and I’m with friends I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again. Gratitude swells in my chest—I don’t take any of this for granted.
We enter the foyer, and Miles hits the buzzer to bring us back. The secretaries know him by name and buzz us right in.
“So, my dad loves the idea,” Miles is saying as we walk to the back of the large building. “But he said if we want to raise funds for a scholarship, we need approval from the superintendent.”
Melanie says. “How do we get that?”
“Well, he’s here today so I assume he’ll give us a verbal approval at least,” Miles says, pulling open a large black door and holding it so we can all walk through. Inside is a waiting area with two doors. One reads Board of Education and the other says Town Council.
That’s convenient.
We come to another large desk with another secretary. “Hey, Colleen.” Miles grins, leaning over the desk. “Is my dad ready for us?”
“Hi, everyone. Let me give him a call,” Colleen says with a smile.
While she does, I mosey around, looking at the plaques, frames, and awards on the wall. There are state trophies from high school basketball tournaments, music awards from band competitions. Various news articles of town successes hang in wooden frames. My breath catches in my throat when I see the article detailing Cara leading her high school soccer team to the state championship in her sophomore year. I didn’t expect to see it here, and I don’t think I’ve ever read it. I run my fingertips over the glass in the frame. There’s a photo of Cara in the right corner of the article—she’s on her teammate’s shoulders, holding a large gold trophy. Her smile is bright, ecstatic. I don’t get to skim the article because Councilman John Corbin opens his door, startling me.
“Hey guys,” he says, his expression warm and open.
I move back to join the group, and he holds out his hand to me. “Josh. It’s been a while,” he says solemnly.
“It sure has,” I agree, shaking his hand with a pat on the back.
“Let’s chat, shall we?” He gestures for us to enter the conference room, and we all take our seats. Another gentleman, that I assume is the superintendent of schools, sits with a hot cup of coffee. He stands when we enter and shakes everyone’s hands.
“Can I get you all anything?” Colleen asks. I hadn’t realized she’d followed us in.
“We’re good, Colleen, thank you,” Miles answers for us, dipping his head in appreciation.
We all settle into various conference table seats. I can’t shake off the news article, and I struggle to focus. I desperately want to read it, but then again, I don’t.I’m here now, that’s what matters.The meeting passes by in a blur. We hammer down some details—Rotary Park, six p.m. on September sixth—and the superintendent loves the idea of a QR code for donations. Sophie agrees to take the lead on that. They will send flyers home for parents to donate. We won’t charge the day of, but whatever we raise leading up to the concert, we’ll donate back to the school for a soccer scholarship, since that’s the sport Cara loved most. Everyone is chattering happily as we walk out, but for some reason, I’m feeling low.
“You okay?” Melanie asks, turning toward me.
I push my lips into a tight line and nod. “Yeah. I’ll be okay. It’s just a lot, you know? I haven’t thought this much about the accident in years.”
Melanie reaches out and touches my bicep, sending a shiver through me. “I get it,” she says gently.
“I think—” I pause, I don’t want her to take this the wrong way. “I’m going to go to the cemetery.”
Melanie’s expression softens, her voice gentle. “Oh, okay. Do you want some company?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so this time. I’m sorry.” Guilt settles heavy in my chest—she’s only trying to help. “I just need to visit Cara on my own, if that’s okay.”
Sure, in the past twenty-five years, I’ve thought about Cara often. I’ve missed her desperately. Losing a sibling is like losing a limb. Growing up, we were always together. We were Irish twins—super close in age and each other’s most trusted companion. Losing her broke all of us, but my parents whipped me out of town so fast, I didn’t have to face being here without her. The memories overwhelm me. For the first time since I’ve arrived, I feel like I need a drink, and that’s not a good feeling.
“Okay.” Hurt flashes across her features but she recovers, giving me a forced smile. “I have to work at four so…”
I nod, my jaw tight. “Okay. I’ll see if I can make it, maybe I’ll stop in.”If I can stop needing that drink.I don’t say that part out loud. I don’t want Melanie to worry about me.
“Okay.” Melanie turns to go.
I should stop her and kiss her goodbye but everyone else is still nearby. I know she’s probably reading into the shift in my mood but right now, I just have to get out of here and clear my head.
My conscience gets the better of me. “You want a lift home?” I call after her.
