My chest squeezes painfully, tears prickling the backs of my eyes.
“Honey, are you alright?” my mom asks coming to a stop behind me, her eyes searching my face.
“I miss him so much, Mom.” My chin trembles and my tears spill over, rolling down my cheeks.
“I know, sweetheart. I do too.” She hugs me, resting her chin on the top of my head. “It’s going to be harder now, being back home surrounded by all of our memories. We just have to find a way to get through this. Together.”
“I know, I just… I don’t know how.”
She squeezes me tighter. “You go on upstairs and unpack, I’ll make us all some food. It’s been a long drive.”
“Okay.”
She presses a kiss to the top of my head before heading into the kitchen.
My mom, AJ and I have spent the last five weeks up in Traverse City. We used to visit my aunt on my dad’s side almost every summer before she died about three years ago. It’s a place that means a lot to us, so it was only fitting we went there. We headed out there a few days after my dad’s funeral for some quality family time and to just get away, and for the majority of that time, I’ve been okay. I haven’t allowed myself to cry for fear that I’d never stop, but being back here has brought me back to square one.
The funeral was a nice ceremony, and I couldn’t believe the turn out. Once word had got out that an officer had died in the line of duty, people lined the streets, clapping, as the hearse carrying my dad rolled slowly through the streets, all the way from our house to the church. Every seat was filled, and people packed inside and stood around the edge of the church, just to help give dad the best send off.
My dad’s old work colleagues and friends stepped up to read their eulogies. I wanted to read one myself, but I didn’t think I’d have the strength. There was no way I was going to get through that speech without breaking down in tears.
Once outside, hundreds gathered around the plot as they lowered his coffin into the ground. It was the perfect send off for a man who was loved and well respected for serving his community.
Throughout the whole ceremony, Quinn was by my side, her hand clasped tightly in mine. She more than anyone knows what it’s like to lose a parent, only in her case, she lost both in the space of a week just over a year and half ago.
I’m not sure what I’d do without her.
I’d never had much luck making friends in school, I was the quiet recluse in the back corner of the room who no one noticed. And on my first day of college, I decided to be a loner no more. The second I spotted Quinn in our first English class, I knew that she was the one. That first year she struggled with the loss of her parents, and didn’t really notice that I was there, but I stuck by her. Sure, call me needy for hanging around with someone who hardly gave me the time of day, but it wasn’t her fault, she was grieving.
Since we started our sophomore year, we’ve never been closer, and I couldn’t wish for a better best friend.
As well as Quinn, Dwight and Logan turned up to pay their respects and show their support, and every now and again I’d glance up and catch Logan watching me, his expression painted with sadness and worry. He’d give me a reassuring smile and that signature sexy wink, and my heart would lighten just a little.
The funeral was the last time I saw him
I’ve often thought about him since then, and two weeks into my vacation, I received a text message from an unknown number.
Hey, babygirl. Checking in to make sure you’re okay. Take it easy. Logan x
My heart skipped a beat when I read that message, to know that he cared, and that he was thinking of me meant the world. Stupidly, I allowed myself to think up all kinds of ideas, I would conjure in my head of what it would feel like to kiss him, to touch him, to have him touch me and before I knew it, I was full-on crushing on him like some silly teenager.
That almost-kiss a couple of months ago is still very much on my mind, but rather than live on false hope, I try to remind myself it was probably just the drink talking.
Logan and I... it’s justnotgoing to happen, though it doesn’t stop me from hoping.
It doesn’t take me long to unpack my things and not long after I’ve finished, my mom shouts me and my brother down for lunch. I sit down at the dining table, my mom at one end and my brother facing me. We eat relatively in silence, my brother picks at his salad, moving it around his plate with his fork. I don’t have much of an appetite either, but I force myself to eat as much as I can, thinking it would make me feel better after not eating all morning, but my food feels stodgy as it lies heavy in my stomach.
As much as I try not to, I keep casting a glance at the empty chair at the head of the table where my dad would sit. Seeing it sit empty has me wanting to burst into tears. It doesn’t feel right. Without fail, he never missed one meal, save for days when he was on shift or was called away for an emergency at work. Sure, those times felt strange not having him there, but this is different. I can almost convince myself that this is one of those days when he had to work and couldn’t make it home for dinner, but then reality sets in and my heart sinks.
After my mom’s countless failed attempts to engage my brother in conversation, he silently gets up from his chair and leaves the room. His heavy footsteps pound up the stairs and a minute later, the muffled sound of his music filters through the ceiling.
“Give him time, Mom,” I say with a small smile is anything but reassuring.
“I’m just worried. The past few days, knowing we were coming home, he’s closed up. He’s barely said two words.”
“He’s just struggling. He’s young, he doesn’t know how to deal with it all yet. He just needs space to get his head around everything and deal with his grief his own way.” I’m not just speaking for my brother, but for myself too. Hell, I’m twenty and I don’t know how to deal with it all, let alone an eleven year-old.
With no grandparents to speak of, all of them dying before I was even born, this is the first time I’ve had to deal with death. I don’t know how I should be acting, should I be shutting myself away and hiding from the world like my brother? Or just going about my everyday life and pretending everything is fine? But no matter how normal I try to feel, there’s still the heavy weight pressing down on me that I can’t shift.
