“I don’t know. I need to see what the hell I’m supposed to do. I can leave right now. We just need to get through tonight and tomorrow and then we’ll go from there, I guess.”
How did we do that? How did we go on with our lives now? My life had been a girl with one sister, a mother and a father. That was all I knew how to be. I didn’t know how to be a girl who had lost her father.
***
I guess I fell asleep at some point, because when I woke, I looked over to find Kayla asleep next to me, our hands still linked. I looked around, and found Stryker and Adam had cleared a place on the floor and were both asleep on piles of my mom’s handmade afghans, Stryker on a Christmas one and Adam on one for Saint Patrick’s Day.
The basement was dark and there was no noise from upstairs. Stryker had my phone, so I had no idea what time it was and there were no windows in the basement.
The moment I moved, Kayla woke up.
“Hey,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“Hey, do you know what time it is?”
“No idea,” she said, sitting up and moving her head to stretch out her neck. “Guess it doesn’t matter.”
No, it really didn’t.
“Why can’t I cry more?”
“Everyone deals with things in their own way,” she said, nudging me with her shoulder.
“When Zack hurt me, I didn’t really cry for that either. Maybe I’m emotionally broken. Maybe I’m one of those people who doesn’t feel empathy.”
“Okay, I’m going to stop that crazy thought train right now. You’re not a sociopath.” That was the word for it. Stryker made a noise in his sleep and turned over, but didn’t wake up. Adam was softly snoring.
“You’re just dealing with it in your own way, and that’s okay.”
“That’s the thing, Kayla. I’m not dealing with it. I still feel like this is one big sick joke, or that this is somehow not true. Because it can’t be true. It just can’t. Other people lose their fathers when they’re my age. Things like this don’t happen to us. They happen to other people.”
Kayla was quiet for a long time.
“It feels that way for me too.”
Oh.
Stryker rolled again and his green eyes popped open, frantically searching for something until he found my face.
“Are you okay?”
“Go back to sleep,” I said, not answering the question. He got up from the floor and sat back in the chair. He looked like shit, which meant that I probably looked worse.
“Can I get you anything? I’m up now.” It was a lie because he yawned a moment later.
“No, I’m fine.”
“That’s such a load of shit,” Kayla said, laughing a little. “We are so not fine.”
“I know,” I said, and we both laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. We woke Adam up and he looked at Stryker, who shrugged.
“Everyone has their own way to deal,” he said.
***
My mother seemed to have flipped a switch while she was sleeping and the next few days she didn’t stop. If she wasn’t organizing Dad’s service or fielding sympathy calls and cards and flowers and casseroles, she was cleaning or picking out clothes for us to wear to the service or meeting with Dad’s lawyer.
She was so busy she didn’t even have time to notice that Stryker was still here and that we hadn’t spent a night apart.
Sex was the furthest thing from both of our minds (or at least from his, I supposed), but that didn’t mean we didn’t sleep in the same room. I was never far from him as Mom fluttered around and relatives came and went and I tried to figure out what my life meant without my dad in it.
I was definitely still in denial. I still hadn’t really cried since that one time at the hospital.
Everyone said that it was okay, but seriously, it wasn’t. I also still couldn’t go into my parents’ room. Mom had cleaned and scrubbed the rest of the house, but she hadn’t touched his stuff. Guess I wasn’t the only one in denial.
I tried to call and talk to Lottie, but she ended up rambling and then crying and apologizing so much that I told her I had to go, and from then on Stryker kept my phone and was responsible for calling everyone and giving them updates.
I knew he was missing his classes, but he told me not to worry about it, so I didn’t. I had enough things to worry about.
Chapter Twenty
Stryker
Mr. Hallman’s funeral was less than a week after he’d died. Mrs. Hallman had turned into a woman possessed, as if the funeral was some sort of grand event, like a wedding, or a terribly important party. I just kept Katie out of the fray and tried to be invisible, but Mrs. Hallman barely noticed I was there.
I helped Katie zip up the back of her dress in her room, which she hadn’t slept in since she’d come home. We usually ended up in the basement, snatching sleep whenever.
“How do I look?” She was gorgeous, even in her sadness.
“Beautiful.” I kissed her shoulder and she turned slowly. I’d barely kissed her since we’d gotten back from the hospital and it wasn’t just because it didn’t seem like the right thing to do in light of her father’s death.
I didn’t deserve to kiss her; not after what I’d done with Ric. In a stupid way, I thought that she might find out, if she kissed me. Like the truth would be written on my lips.
“You ready?” Katie didn’t know it, but everyone was coming down for the funeral. I’d organized what Trish had dubbed the “Grief Committee” when she’d come down to bring me some clothes a few days ago. I told them not to go overboard, but I had no idea what to expect.
The house was full of people. Lots of relatives and friends that I’d become acquainted with. They all gave me strange looks until I explained who I was, which was always awkward. I just told them that I was Katie’s friend and let them make their own conclusions, which they were going to do anyway.
Katie’s phone buzzed with a message from Trish saying that they were waiting out front.
“Come with me.” I took her hand and led her through the living room as Mrs. Hallman yelled at someone about making sure the flowers had arrived at the funeral home.
There they were, all dressed in black, standing on the porch.
“What are you doing here?” Katie said. “I said you didn’t have to come.”
“Of course we had to come,” Audrey said coming forward and giving Katie a hug. Will and Lottie and Trish and Simon and Zan followed, each giving her a hug and their sympathies. I’d heard enough of them by now to know which were genuine and which weren’t. These were of the former.
“When are you coming back to school?” Trish said as we shivered on the porch. There wasn’t really enough room in the house, but I had an idea.
“Hey, why don’t we move this inside? We can go down to the basement.” Adam and I had consolidated a lot of the furniture and moved it around so we’d have a place to sleep, and we could probably fit down there.
I led them all through the house, and everyone gave us looks but no one asked any questions.
“Oh my God, it’s
Hoarders, The Furniture E
dition,” Lottie said when she saw it.
“Don’t talk about
Hoarders
,” Simon said, shuddering. I’d been right to invite them. Katie almost cracked a smile.
“Oh, sorry,” Lottie said. “I should be more respectful.”
“No, you should be however you want to be. Everyone’s been so damn respectful it makes me want to scream,” Katie said, sitting on the bed. “Be normal. I need some normal, because everything else isn’t normal.”
“I’ve got it,” Simon said, snapping his fingers. “Picnic game.” I remembered playing it while waiting outside Katie’s hospital room the night Zack attacked her. It seemed as good a plan as any, and Katie actually did smile. I could count on one hand the amount of smiles I’d seen from her in the past few days.
I put my arm around her and she leaned into me.
“Thank you, again,” she whispered. “I needed them.”
“I know,” I said as Simon started the game.
We played until it was time for everyone to go over to the funeral home. We’d all laughed and it had been like a completely normal thing, with the exception of everyone wearing black.
Katie relaxed a little and then tensed back up. I knew she was berating herself for laughing and having a good time on the day of her dad’s funeral. Like she wasn’t allowed to have fun anymore, which was so beyond wrong, but I couldn’t tell her that. She had to figure it out for herself. If there was anything I knew about Katie, it was that she had do things her own way.
In the back of my mind, the guilt for my drunken night with Ric hovered, keeping me up when I tried to sleep and whispering in my ear every time Katie looked at me like she was glad I was here, that she needed me.
I was going to help get her through this and then I’d have to pull myself out of her life. But for right now, I was going to help her get through the next few hours, the next few days, until she could do it on her own again.
Katie
The funeral was nice. The flowers were nice and everyone said nice things and smiled nice and cried nice and it was all nice, nice, nice.
I hated every second of it. All I wanted to do was push one of the windows open and jump, or pull the fire alarm, which was exactly in my line of vision. I wondered what my mother would have said if I’d have done it.
I wished Stryker could have sat with me, but he was stuck a row behind. As much as I was sick of people hugging me and consoling me and touching me, I wished my hand was in his for the service.
I snuck a few looks back at him and he gave me a little smile each time. At one point I heard a cough and glanced back to see him holding his hand over his mouth, and on the back of his hand was drawn,
here 4 U.
Thank you
, I mouthed at him and turned back around. Leave it to Stryker to always have a marker on him.
The rest of my friends were relegated to the very back of the room, but Zan was so tall I could see his dark head of hair every time I turned.
His parents were here, too, also sitting in the back. I’d seen them come in, but I was waiting for the moment when they came through the line to pay their respects. His mother had never liked me. Not that it mattered now.
They played James Taylor, Dad’s favorite, as people lined up to hug and tell us how sorry they were.
More words, words, words and talking, talking, talking. I wished I could put them all on mute, like an annoying commercial.
Yes, they were sorry about Dad, but you could tell that every single one of them was glad it wasn’t their family, that it wasn’t their dad or uncle or brother. They couldn’t hide it, when they looked at you. That little glimmer of pity and relief.
After the service we all drove over to the local VFW hall to have a little open house my Mom and Aunt Carol had organized. It was a way to allow people to make more sympathy casseroles stuffed with tuna and peas and sorry for your losses.
I wanted to skip the whole thing, but Mom would have killed me.
“You guys don’t have to come,” I said as we stood in the parking lot. The air was so cold that it made our lungs and throat hurt when we breathed in, and it smelled like snow. Dad always claimed he could smell the snow, and Mom always said he was crazy.
“Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss it,” Lottie said, giving me a little side hug. I actually didn’t mind her hugs. She was so tiny that they were never smothering.
“We’re all here for you, girl,” Trish said and they all agreed.
God, I didn’t deserve them and that was the thing that brought my first tears forward in days. During the service I’d pretended because what kind of horrible daughter didn’t sob at her dad’s funeral?
“Here.” Stryker was prepared with a crisp white handkerchief that looked like he’d just taken it out of a package.
“Thanks,” I said, taking it. I should probably be with my mom and Kayla and the rest of my family.
“We should probably head over,” I said to Stryker.
“You should go with your family. I’ll be right behind you.” Mom and Kayla walked out of the funeral home and I could tell they were looking for me.
He flashed the words written on his hand and started walking toward his car. I said goodbye to everyone else and walked toward Mom and Kayla, giving each of them hugs.
Only a few days ago my biggest problem was that Mom didn’t like Stryker and he was pushing me away. How fast things could change.
Chapter Twenty-one
Stryker
We all made it through the open house and then it was time for everyone to get back to school, and it was time for me to go with them.
“So, I’m going to drive Trish back,” I said as Katie tossed what was left of the food.
“What?” She looked at me as if I’d just announced I was going to the moon.
“Yeah, I really need to get back to school and…everything.” It was the lamest of lame excuses. This morning I’d packed up my stuff and loaded up my car with it while she’d been in the shower. Like a fucking coward.
She stared for another second and then shook her head.
“Yeah, yeah, of course. You have to get back to your life.”
There was another moment of silence, and it was awkward. After we’d become so close, this seemed very anti-climactic.
“Thank you,” she said, tossing something that looked like leftover baby food into the trash can, “for everything. I’ll never be able to say it enough, but I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She set the dish down and gave me a hug.
I tried not to hold her too tight, or pull her too close. She’d been hugged enough today, and if I were her, I wouldn’t want another one.
That didn’t stop me from leaning down and smelling her hair and letting myself surround her for just a second.
“See you around?” I should win an award for the most moronic goodbye ever spoken.
“Um, yeah. I guess.”
“Let me know if you need anything. Anytime.”
I let her go and stepped away. She looked like she was going to cry again, so I handed her another handkerchief.