“Can we talk about something else?” I asked, my eyes glued to the traffic flying past us on the Interstate.
“Sure,” he said. “Why the kids?”
“What?”
“The art studio you’re building. Wouldn’t most artists be interested in displaying their own work?”
“I’ve been pretty lucky,” I said on a sigh, grateful that this was a topic I could handle.
“How so?” Mace interjected before I could even continue on my own.
“While I was in school, I met someone who took a liking to my work. She bought several of my pieces and started spreading the word about me to her friends. She even helped set me up with an agent when I got back to the States.”
“States? You went to school somewhere else?”
“I got a scholarship to an art school in Paris. I studied there for a couple of years and then stayed for a couple of more so I could immerse myself in the culture. But I missed home so I came back a couple months ago. I had enough saved up from the sale of my paintings to lease the studio and fix it up.”
“Why do it for kids though?”
“Because I think about what art gave me when I was younger and I want other kids to have that.”
“What did it give you?”
“A voice,” I said without hesitation. “Even when there wasn’t someone around to hear.” I risked a glance at Mace and was surprised to see him watching me. It was just for a moment of course, since he had to stay focused on the road but I liked what I saw. Like he got what I was trying to say. Probably just more fanciful wishing on my part. I turned my attention back to the passing scenery. “Even if all they get out of it is seeing their art on display, think how they’ll feel for that minute or hour or day.”
Mace didn’t say anything after that and I was kind of glad. Once we got closer to the city, I used my phone’s app to get us to the cemetery and I was glad to see the service hadn’t started, even though we were a couple of minutes late.
“Thanks,” I said to Mace as I climbed out of the van.
“I’ll be right here,” he said with a simple nod. I knew he meant that he’d be there to drive me to Cole’s house for the gathering afterwards and then ultimately to take me home, but I pretended he meant something else. Something that gave me enough strength to stiffen my back and walk up the small incline to where a handful of mourners stood, unaware that the reason Carrie was dead stood among them.
Chapter 8
COLE
The attendanceat Carrie’s funeral was even smaller than I’d expected and I felt another piece of my heart shear off as I realized how little of my sister’s memory still remained in this world. As I scanned the few faces gathered on one side of the flower-draped, silver coffin, I had the insane urge to tell everyone to leave because none of them really understood what we’d lost. None of them got that losing Carrie had set off a chain reaction of events that had destroyed the family we’d been.
As the priest took his position and opened his Bible, I saw Jonas hurrying up the side of the hill. I felt a strange sensation in my chest as his eyes caught on mine – like some kind of knot inside me was starting to unwind itself. I expected him to hover on the edge of the small group but instead, he came up right next to me and took my hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t have to say anything because I got the message in the way he touched me, in the way his gaze held mine.
I’m here.
It was the same thing he’d given me when he’d hugged me in his studio last week. It was like he’d known I was broken and he was trying to help me hold together the pieces.
Jonas’s hand went lax in mine as he made a move to step away and while I released his hand, I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing his arm and holding him there next to me. It made no sense to me since I’d known him the least amount of time but I couldn’t let him go. And even though I had to physically release my hold on him so it wouldn’t look strange to everyone else, Jonas didn’t move after that.
Although I had asked the priest to keep the service quick, since I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to keep my father in check for, it still seemed to drag on. I didn’t really hear the actual words that were said but hadn’t really realized I’d tuned out completely until I felt Jonas’s hand at my back. I glanced at him and he motioned to the nearly empty container of red roses near the casket. The casket was draped in a handful of roses and most of the funeral goers were already picking their way down the hill towards their cars. I reached for my father’s arm and felt him sway as he stepped forward with me. To any other onlooker, he would have appeared overcome with grief. But I knew better.
I handed one of the roses to my father but he struggled to figure out what he was supposed to do with it so I took it from him and placed it on Carrie’s casket. Mine followed and then I was turning my father away from the site that would be his daughter’s final resting place. I saw Jonas look at me with concern, but I forced my eyes from his so I could focus on getting my father to the waiting car. Yet I couldn’t stop myself from looking over my shoulder to watch Jonas place his rose. His hand lingered on the casket and then I saw him place a folded piece of paper on it. I couldn’t dwell on it though because my father chose that moment to come out of his stupor.
“Need a drink,” he grumbled as more of his weight pressed against me.
“We’ll be home soon,” I managed to say as we neared the car.
“I want a fucking drink!” he shouted as he wrenched away from me and then stumbled to his knees. My father was not a small man by any means so it took me a moment to get him righted and as I was in the process of pulling him to his feet, I saw Mace watching me from where he stood near what I presumed was his van.
“My little girl,” my dad suddenly whispered brokenly and I felt a rush of pain go through me. I hated my father’s drunken jags, but I hated his lucid moments even more because they teased me with glimpses of the man I’d lost. It was a painful reminder that the man who’d raised me, who’d made me into the man I was, was buried under the stench of alcohol…close enough to see but not enough to reach.
I wrestled my father into the back of the Town Car I’d rented for the occasion and just as I was getting into the car, I glimpsed Jonas reaching Mace’s side. I felt a pang of envy go through me when I saw Mace’s hand reach out to settle on Jonas’s upper arm. I felt my own skin tingle in the same place Jonas and Mace were connected, and it took everything I had left to force myself to tear my eyes from them and climb into the car next to my father.
