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No, that’s not it.
Call Dakota.
My lungs feel too small as I search for her number. Breathing is difficult. No idea why. I’m just standing here. Standing still while the world is spinning madly.
I call, but I get no reply. The pressure on my chest is crushing my lungs. I put the cell away mechanically. My brain is mostly blank. Can’t even recall what I wanted to tell Dakota.
All I know is that I need to get into my pickup truck and drive to Bolinbrook. Need to see Emma one last time. Need to tell her goodbye.
I turn away from the shop and start walking, occasionally stumbling. Still can’t feel my feet much. It’s as if I’m floating, and they’re rocks, anchoring me to earth. I drag them behind me like dead weights.
Say goodbye. Somehow I hope Emma can still hear me, from wherever her spirit is. I’m going to her funeral. I owe her that much. It’s the last thing I can do for her, and I’ll be damned if I lose my shit before I get it done.
***
The viewing is held at a funeral home. I can’t see the kids, and fleetingly, I wonder where they are, but I can’t focus enough to hold on to that thought.
Emma is laid out in a dark wooden casket. Her small face is powdered and rouged, her pale hands folded over her chest. There are flowers around her. I sit there and look at her. I feel dizzy when I stand, so I just sit and look. She seems asleep.
Please, wake up.
People have drifted in and out of the room. Now they’re gone, and it’s just me and Emma.
“Sis.” I have no tears. My eyes are dry, so dry they ache. “This ain’t fair. You should’ve stayed. You said you’d stick by me.” I stop, because it sounds so selfish. But she’s my family. All the family I have. Except… “The kids will miss you. Matt will miss you. I…” My voice breaks, and I rub my chest. Fucking hurts. “Don’t know if I can do this without you, dammit.”
“Zane.” Matt appears at the door. “It’s past nine. They’re closing up here, and you should go to bed. You look awful.”
He does, too. Not that it matters. I shake my head. “Talking to Emma.”
“Emma’s dead,” he bites out, and I bend over, his words a punch to my stomach. “Look, you have to come to terms with that, man.”
The chair creaks when he sits down next to me. He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I flinch hard, almost falling down. He withdraws it.
“Zane… I’m sorry. I love Emma. I know you love her. I know this is hard. But you have to rest, or you won’t make it to the funeral tomorrow. You don’t look well, man.”
I concentrate on breathing, getting air into my crushed lungs. My heart is banging in my chest. “’M okay.”
“Come on.” He pats my arm and stands up. “Let’s go home.”
Home. Home ain’t here, not anymore. I let Matt haul me to my feet and drag me toward his car. I’m thankful I don’t have to drive. Not sure I can.
I let him drive me to their house, and once there, I drop on the sofa and spend the night staring a hole into the ceiling.
She’s gone. Emma’s gone.
Dammit all to hell, but when reality comes crashing down, it really doesn’t hold back.
***
Matt drives us to the cemetery. The kids are riding in his mother’s car, he tells me. His mother. Keep forgetting Matt has parents, unlike me and Emma. His parents are here, and as it turns out, also some cousins. Maybe that’s good. More people to say goodbye.
Goodbye to Emma. A knot is stuck in my throat, and I can’t swallow. Can’t speak.
The casket is there. There’s a hole in the ground. They’re gonna put Emma into a fucking hole in the ground. I can’t…
Matt’s hand on my arm brings me back from the brink. “Ready?”
The fuck I am. How can I ever be ready to put my sister into the ground?
