Never Let Go (Take My Hand) (22 page)

As for Jocelyn… I don’t know what to say about her. I
don’t know what it is you want from her… if anything at all. I never knew she
was anything but a loving, even if slightly strict mother to you and when I
found out the truth about your childhood I hated her. I hated her so much I
wished we could trade places and it would be her dying from this murdering
tumour. But I don’t have it in me to feel that strongly about her anymore
– about anybody. Life is so short, Emmie. Don’t waste a single second feeling
negatively. Hatred only hurts YOU… not the person you feel it towards. Either
accept them for who they are or what they’ve done, or move on. That space in
your heart reserved for hate could be being used to love someone else. Bet you
never knew I could be so philosophical, eh?

I think I’m pretty much done here. I’ve covered
everyone – oh wait, except Ernie. He’s been good to me over the years. In
a lot of ways he’s been like a father to me when my own wasn’t interested. He’s
got his wife and kids of course, but I’d like it if you’d pop in on him every
now and then, maybe take him a cake or something. Old people like that kind of
shit right?

I almost don’t want to stop writing. I don’t want to
say goodbye to you, Emmie. I don’t want to leave you, I hope you know that. A
lot of people say they’d rather just drop dead unexpectedly than be diagnosed
with a terminal illness. I used to think that too, but now, I see it as some
kind of blessing. I’m grateful that I’ve been given the time to plan things,
make sure the ones I love are settled and secure, and most importantly that I
get to tell them how much I love them before it’s too late.

How’s this for a mindfuck for you… you’re calling me
from downstairs right now. Apparently my breakfast is ready. When I got out of
bed this morning I stumbled and knocked some DVD’s on the floor. Forrest Gump
came out on top and the film is still in my mind so I’m thinking I should play
with you a little. When I get downstairs I’m going to quote from that movie one
of the wisest sayings I think I’ve ever heard.

Life is like a box of chocolates – You never
know what you’re gonna get.

Hopefully you’ll remember me saying that to you, and
now you know the reason I was late coming down for breakfast. I was writing
this. I was saying goodbye to you.

It’s time to move on now, little sis. I’ll be with you
all the way. I don’t know how this ‘next life’ thing works, but once I’ve
figured it out I’ll try to guide you the best I can. That’s what dead people
are supposed to do so I believe… well that, and stalk women in the changing
rooms at the gym.

I love you so much, Emmie. I am so proud to be your
brother. Keep safe. Keep living. Keep loving.

Chris

xxx

“You okay, doll?”
I dropped the paper onto my lap and pushed out a breath that had been stuck
inside for what seemed like several minutes. “Doll?” I stared at the paper, not
at the words, just the paper. My fingers tensed around it a little but quickly
softened when it started to crease. “Emily?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” I
responded, the sound of my name snapping me back into reality.

“Are you okay?”
he questioned gently, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nodded, I think. I was
too numb to be certain. “What does it say?”

“It says
goodbye.” I passed the letter to Dexter who went on to read it for himself. A
couple of minutes later he laid it on the bed behind us and pulled me into him.
“I miss him, Dex.”

“Me too, doll. I
doubt we’ll ever stop.”

When I pulled
away, Dexter’s eyes were damp with tears. Using my thumb I wiped them away,
then I smoothed my hand down his cheek.

“I don’t know
what I’d do if you weren’t here,” I whispered against his lips before sweeping
my tongue lightly across them.

“Good job you’ll
never have to find out. I’ll always be here, doll. Forever.”

“Forever,” I
agreed, then I brought his mouth to mine and kissed him passionately, injecting
him with my love, my pain and my adoration for him.

**********

More people than I expected turned up at the church.
It warmed my heart to know Chris was so popular, even though he never mentioned
them. It was Sarah’s idea to put an obituary in the paper - I didn’t really see
the point. But standing in the church, seeing the rows of full pews, I was glad
I did. I’m sure if Chris could’ve seen all those people he’d be feeling a
little smug at his popularity.

I’d been
doing fairly well controlling my tears, until the church service began. From
the minute the priest started talking I couldn’t stop staring at the lightwood
coffin. Chris was
in
there, and the
thought tortured me all the way through the service. The only time I managed to
peel my eyes away was when Dexter stood up and made his way to the front of the
church to stand behind the pulpit. My eyebrows sprang up in confused curiosity.
He hadn’t mentioned giving a speech.

“So,” he began after clearing his throat. “I hadn’t
actually planned on saying anything, but now I’m here, I just wanted you all
know what Chris meant to me, and just how grateful I am to him. Most of you
don’t know me, so you won’t know that this man literally helped save my life. I
was in a bad place not so long ago. A place I didn’t think I’d ever get out of.
But, along with his sister, my Emily over there…”

He pointed at me and dozens of heads turned to look at
me, making me turn a vivid shade of red.

“He helped me escape that bad place. He gave me a
chance – a chance I didn’t deserve. He taught me, guided me, and
supported me. He quickly became the best friend I’d never had, and the brother
I always wanted. I looked up to him. I admired him. I
loved
him. The only thing that comforts me about losing him, is
that I got to hold him while he died. I got to tell him I loved him, and that’s
a privilege denied to so many. I feel proud to have been with him at the end,
and I take solace in the knowledge he wasn’t alone.”

Tears swam from my eyes, pooling in my nose and making
it hard to breathe as Dexter stepped down from the pulpit. Before he came back
to me he paused by Chris’ coffin and laid his hand on the top for a few
seconds.

“I’m gonna miss you, man,” he said, and then patted
the wood lightly. “Don’t party too hard up there.”

When Dexter returned to our pew he immediately took
hold of my hand and squeezed it gently.

“That was beautiful,” I whispered to him. He smiled modestly
and then brought my hand up to his lips before placing gentle, loving kisses on
my knuckles.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

I snuggled into Dexter’s chest for the rest of the
service. The priest said a few more words, although I didn’t hear what they
were. When the pallbearers gathered around the coffin ready to take Chris
outside to his final resting place, we all stood up. My dad, who had been
sitting next to me the entire time, put his arm around my waist and pulled me
close enough to kiss the top of my head. I couldn’t help noticing how he
squeezed me a little tighter and for a little longer than necessary –
almost as if he were afraid to let me go.

The song I’d chosen started playing as Chris was
carried back out of the church. Fire and Rain, originally by James Taylor, is
one of my favourite songs ever, and hauntingly perfect for the way I feel about
losing my brother. But of course, Glee covered the song for the episode where
they said goodbye to Finn, so naturally, with me being one of the world’s
biggest Gleeks, that was the one playing in the church right now. I smiled as
we made our way through the heavy arched doors, thinking back on Rachel’s
comment this morning.

‘Glee, ho? Seriously? At a
funeral?
Why don’t you just sprinkle pink glitter everywhere and
mark it down as the campest funeral in history?’

**********

There are no words to describe the feeling of watching
one of the people you love most in the whole world being lowered into the
ground. The only comfort I could take from it was that he was being buried next
to our mother. I never knew her, but Chris did, and it felt soothing to know
they were together again. Wherever you go after you die, our mum would be
waiting for him. She will take care of him for me.

When the box of dirt was passed to me, I said a silent
goodbye to my brother as I tossed a small handful on top of his coffin. It
scattered over the brass plate, covering his name and it felt so final. I will
never see him again. Ever. He’s gone and I’m not sure if the thought will ever
stop causing such intense pain in my chest, or even if I’d want it to.

When the priest started to pray again I figured we
were almost done here. It was over, and I won’t lie and say I wasn’t relieved.
I planned to come back regularly to tend to the gravestone just like Chris had
done for our mum for so many years, but for now, I just wanted to get away.

I was already eyeing up my exit route – the
stony trail that led to the church car park – when I saw her.

Jocelyn.

She was standing far back, leaning against another
gravestone. I caught Dexter following my gaze and his back stiffened when he
saw her.

“I won’t be long,” I whispered to him. He tried to
pull me back when I stepped past him, looking over at Jocelyn with wary eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him. I needed to know why she was here. My nature
always wants to see the best in people, so I couldn’t believe she was here to
gloat. Weaving my way through some of the mourners I’d never met, I broke free
of the gathering and made my way over to her.

“Emily,” she breathed. I stayed silent. I’ve never
referred to her as anything but ‘Mum’, but now I knew the truth I didn’t know
what to call her. “How are you holding up?”

“What do you want?” I said acidly, ignoring her stupid
question.

“I just came to pay my respects. I didn’t want to
intrude, which is why I stayed back here.”

“
Why?
You
had no respect for him when he was alive,” I spat.

“I know that and… I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I don’t know if your father has told you, but I’ve
been having therapy.”

“Yeah. He mentioned something.”

“I’ve been so broken for a long time, Emily. That’s no
excuse, I know. Blaming you, blaming a child, for what happened to Olivia… it
was wrong. It was wrong and I’m sorry. What happened to Olivia was an accident
- an accident that
I
could have
prevented if I’d been watching her like I should’ve been. I think I’ve always
known deep down who was to blame. Me. Blaming you was easier than having to
deal with that guilt, and there is nothing I can do now to make it up to you,
except say I’m sorry.

“I have resented your father ever since it happened.
He still had two of his children and I had
none
.
He didn’t even show that much interest in you. He was happy to leave me to
raise you both while he lived in his own little bubble, working and playing
golf. How could he not appreciate you both when he knew what it felt like to
lose
one of his children? It made me
hate
him, and it made me hate
you
and your brother.”

“Um, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to that,” I
admitted honestly.

“I don’t need you to say anything. I hope you’ve
learned this by yourself already, but I just needed to tell you that you
aren’t
responsible for what happened to
Olivia. I don’t blame you, Emily. Not anymore. In fact, I don’t think I ever
did. For such a long time it was just easier to believe than the truth.

“I haven’t come here for forgiveness, or to ask if we
can build any kind of relationship…”
Ouch.
“I’m trying to move on, Emily, and I came here to tell you to do the same.
We were never a
real
family, and the
family we tried to be ended up hurting us all. I still have a long way to go
with my therapy and I doubt very much I’ll ever be the woman I was when I first
met your father, but I’m going to try.

“I suppose I came here today to say goodbye to
both
of you. I don’t expect you not to
hate me, or even to forgive me, but I live in hope that one day you will at
least understand.”

“I…I
do
understand.
I think. And, I
do
forgive you.”

.
Life is so short, Emmie. Don’t waste a single second feeling negatively
.

The words in Chris’ letter were etched at the
forefront of my mind. He was right. I don’t have the time in my life or the
space in my heart to hate Jocelyn.

“I should go,” Jocelyn said, looking straight into my
eyes.

“Okay.” As bittersweet as this moment was, I found
myself agreeing with her. For years I had wished she would say these things to
me – that she would tell me Livvie’s death wasn’t my fault, and then
throw her arms around me and tell me she loved me. Yet now, as an adult who
knows the truth, the first was all I needed from her. She doesn’t blame me. The
second those words passed her lips I felt physically lighter – like I had
more space in my lungs, less weight on my shoulders… like I could finally draw
in a
full
breath.