Page 15 of From the Embers
I had options. None of which were going to pry my foot from my mouth. Also none of which she probably wanted anything to do with.
I could chase her down and hug her. It’d worked when she hugged me in the middle of my nervous breakdown. Though going to Rob’s funeral with her palm print across my face would likely raise more questions than I wanted to answer.
I could apologize—for, oh, the hundredth time—because, clearly, that was working out so well for me.
Or, because I too was a fucking mess who had the emotional bandwidth of a cinderblock that day, I could let her walk away, pissed off and fuming.
Though only one of them would make it so Rob didn’t haunt me for the rest of my life.
“I’m sorry!” I called after her, jogging to catch up. “I’ll put on a tie. Hell, I’ll put on three ties. I’m not trying to be a dick. Just tell me what will make today easier for you and I swear to God I’ll do it.”
She stopped and dabbed at her tears, careful not to mess up her makeup. I expected more anger, a few curse words, and a lecture on God only knew what. But when she finally opened her mouth, it was a plea toppling out.
“Then help me figure out a way so I don’t have to go.” Her desperate, green eyes collided with mine. “I can’t do this, Eason. I know I’m supposed to be strong for the kids, but I can’t do this. I’m not like you. You were amazing yesterday. Talking to everyone and thanking them for coming. I’m not built like that. He was my husband. If Tommy No-Name who went to kindergarten with him and hasn’t seen him in thirty years comes up to me crying about how much he’s going to miss him, I’m going to end up in jail.”
“Okay, let’s not do that.”
She dragged a large teardrop diamond back and forth on the chain at her neck. “I don’t understand why we have to do this whole circus to begin with. He would have hated it. Don’t get me wrong—yesterday was beautiful. Jessica would have loved the attention, but Rob wouldn’t have lasted five minutes before sneaking out the back to find the nearest bar. But now, because of some fucked-up social construct, I have to go stand there alone and listen to a priest who has never even met my husband talk about what an amazing human being he was.”
She drew in a sharp breath, and always aware of her proximity to her children, she whisper-yelled, “Was! As in past tense. And then what? Let’s pretend I somehow manage to keep it together and don’t do something crazy like cry too loudly because God knows all eyes are going to be on me. But let’s just say, hypothetically, I don’t tell everyone to fuck off, what happens then? When this funeral is over, Rob is gone. Truly gone. But I’m still going to be here with no idea how to do this without him. So maybe it makes me a bad wife or just an all-around bad person, but I really just don’t want to go.” By the time she finished, she was panting with tears dripping from her chin.
“You won’t be alone,” I vowed, clueless of what else to say.
“I know. I know. You’ll be at the funeral too. I appreciate it. I do. I’m just overwhelmed.” Her shoulders sagged as if she’d been expecting me to pull a piece of sage wisdom out of thin air to magically quell all of her anxieties.
I had none to give though, or I sure as shit would have kept some for myself while breaking down in the shower that morning.
The feel-good chats were never my specialty. Advice? Please, I could barely take care of my own life. Now if someone needed a one-liner, I was the guy. And if the situation was awkward enough and someone didn’t need a one-liner, I unfortunately was still usually that guy too.
It was the worst thing I could say. I knew it before I even opened my mouth. But right or wrong, it was better than saying nothing at all.
“Oh, I was saying you won’t be alone in jail. Tommy No-Name is by far my least favorite of all Rob’s kindergarten friends. If that fool takes one step out of line, you and I will be sharing a cell in the slammer.”
She didn’t laugh.
She didn’t even smile.
She did, however, stare at me like I had two heads, so I took it as progress from yelling at me about the whole tie thing.
“Right,” she murmured. “We should get going before we’re late.” She started away.
I caught her hand and pulled her back. “Look. I’m a shit fill-in for Rob or Jessica in this situation. But I promise I’m here for you today. You get overwhelmed or feel like you can’t take any more, just say the word and I’ll drive the getaway car. Don’t for one second think that it makes you a bad wife or a bad person. Whatever you do or don’t do today, that’s for you and your heart. Rob doesn’t need you to suffer through any social construct to prove how much you love him. And that’s love, Bree. Present tense.”
