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“That’s probably a good idea.”
“I’ve already said goodbye. I don’t want to do it again.
Alone.”
“That’s understandable.” Jennifer smoothed a hand over
Coralyn’s messy hair. She probably looked terrible. What did
it matter? “Everyone is different, and everyone says goodbye
in their own way. Everyone has their own process for grief.
He’d be proud of you; I do know that. He was so proud
whenever he talked about you when you weren’t here. I could
truly see the love between you.” She pressed her hand to
Coralyn’s chest. “I know it’s corny to talk about him being in
here, but I’m sure he is. Or at least, in your memories. Hold
onto those.”
Coralyn teared up. “I will.”
She made her way downstairs after, with the heaviest feet
and a heart that felt like it had been cut out but was still
attached to her body and was dragging, sloshing, splatting and
thunking behind her. It was a gruesome image, and she erased
it as she took a chair next to an elderly woman in a wheelchair
with an IV drip attached. Was she waiting for someone?
Coralyn forced a smile as she sat, her back to the windows
near the hospital’s entrance. The old lady smiled back, and it
was warm and wrinkled and kind and it made Coralyn want to
bawl.
She raised the phone back to her ear. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah. I’m still here.”
It had been an eternity. Giana had hung on that whole time,
listening to muffled background noise. Coralyn’s chest
pinched and her breath came out compressed. “Okay.”
“What’s your favorite thing to do?”
