Page 85 of A Thousand Little Goodbyes

“Grandma told me once that you were the strongest person she knew. Did I ever tell you about that? It was right before I pulled that fake cancer scare to get you to spend more time with me. She knew, long before I did, that you’d be the one to carry us through life—that your strength would be the one thing I could count on.” She sighed. “She was right, of course. She always was.”

“For what it’s worth, I forgave you for that about five minutes later.”

Scarlett released a light scoff. “I don’t know why. I didn’t deserve it. Our whole lives, I’ve always been jealous of how well you know yourself, and how easy you made it seem to stick to your principles—that’s why I made you write the list. Not because you need to learn from me, but because I wanted, in my own desperate, clawing way, to inject a little bit of me into your DNA.” She laughed, and that contained a scoff, too. “But that’s not fair, is it? You’re already carrying more than one person in there. The last thing you need is to scrunch yourselfsmaller to make room for me.”

“Why are you still so obsessed with my twin? I’ve never understood it.” As soon as Chrissie said the words aloud, she heard the lie—not about Scarlett’s obsession, but about her own lack of understanding.

Because the truth was, shedidunderstand Scarlett. She always had. Her bright, funny, exuberant friend was the sort of person who loved outwardly. Scarlett’s affection was unwavering, her joie de vivre the stuff of legends. She could brighten a whole room with just a laugh and, once she claimed you as her own, would fight endless battles to keep you close.

But Scarlett couldn’t imagine a world where love took an inward path. Where you made room inside your heart, pushed a part of yourself down in order to ensure someone else had the space they needed to grow.Thatwas what it meant to be a mother.

That was what it meant to be her.

So, with a deep breath and her head nestled against the best friend she’d ever have, Chrissie pushed down one last time.

“You don’t have to worry about being forgotten, and you don’t have to be afraid there isn’t room in my heart to carry you. Half of it has always belonged to you anyway.”

Scarlett sniffled. “You’re not just saying that?”

“Never. I gave it to you the day you called me into your hospital room. And in return, you gave me more happiness than I ever thought I’d see in this lifetime. Thank you, Scarlett. For loving me. For sharing your grandmother with me. For giving me our daughter and trusting me to take care of her for both of us. I won’t let you down.”

She felt Scarlett’s nod brush against the top of her head before they both fell silent. Time passed, but neither one of them marked it in any discernible way. They just lay curled up together on the chaise longue, the rhythm of their breathing and heartbeats in sync, the world continuing to revolve in the same way it always would.

Scarlett was the first to break the comfortable silence. “I thinkI’m ready now.”

Even though Chrissie had known this moment was coming, every part of her cried out in protest—so much so that it was a physical ache, a hard knot inside her chest that felt cemented in place.

“You think, or you know?”

“I know.” Scarlett kissed the top of her head. “And you do, too. It’s time.”

Chrissie’s eyes grew hot with tears as she sat up and handed Scarlett the medication she’d been prescribed. The rules stated that Scarlett had to be the one to take them, and that she had to do so with her own two hands, but that didn’t mean Chrissie couldn’t hold the glass to Scarlett’s lips as she swallowed or pull her into her arms, her whole body rocking back and forth as Scarlett slipped into a time and place where Chrissie couldn’t follow.

In her thirty-four years of life on this planet, Chrissie had watched too many people go down that same path without her. The twin she never met. The brother she barely knew. The honorary grandmother who had taught her how to love. The best friend who’d given her the greatest gift she’d ever receive.

It hurt—always it hurt, the wound cutting deeper each time it was reopened—but Scarlett had been right.

Chrissie had gotten through this before. She would get through it again. She was the strongest person she knew, and even though she’d never asked to be the person who carried the memories of the dead in her heart, she would do it.

“I’ll do it because you asked me to,” Chrissie whispered as she leaned down to kiss her friend for the final time. “And because carrying everyone in my heart is what makes me strong. Stay safe in there, Scarlett. You and I still have so much living left to do.”

Chapter ThirtyMedford, Oregon

One Year Later

“Walsh, there’s enough food here to feed a small army. You know this memorial is just for us, right?”

Chrissie strode into her backyard, a heaping platter of uncooked meat in her arms. It had been her intention to slide it precariously onto the picnic table, but Walsh was ready and waiting for her. He lifted the platter and ducked to brush a soft kiss across her lips.

“I know, but Kat challenged me to make steakburgendogs. I didn’t want to let her down. We’ll need at least four of everything—with a little extra for the margin of error.” As soon as he caught sight of his daughter’s expression, he threw his hands up. “And that’s the last time I’ll make a math reference, I swear. After last night’s SAT prep, Lily refuses to have anything to do with integers, exponential decay or, god forbid, the Bernoulli distribution.”

“I’m with Lily on this one,” Kat said as she joined them to inspect the meats. “Absolutely no more math.”

Kat cast Lily a look of such understanding that Chrissie was hard put not to set up a rallying cheer. A year of navigating a newrelationship with two strong-willed teenagers watching their every move had been no easy task. One week, the girls were the best of friends. The next, they wanted nothing to do with each other. The past few had been especially rough thanks to the looming SATs, a volleyball recruiter who’d flown out from California to watch them both, and the fact that Lily had been asked to prom but Kat hadn’t.

It was only today, a day they all carried differently, that they’d reached a kind of truce. Today was for eating ridiculous meat concoctions, for remembering a trip that had taken them all by surprise, for letting their defenses down and turning the music up.

Today was for celebrating life.