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“I just know she would smile,” Adrian went on. “She’d find some way to turn the corner of his mouth upjustenough to make it a no-doubter.”
I took a long, deep breath. The tears that had been forming at the corners of my eyes threatened to escape down my cheeks. For the first time all night, I didn’t fight them.
“For some reason I think this way is better,” I said softly. “We get to remember her how she was. The way she existed in our minds, in our hearts.”
Adrian’s jaw flexed grimly. Beneath my palm, his shoulder felt like solid rock.
“It’s what she would’ve wanted, I think.”
It was hard to know if I was getting through to him at all. Eventually he broke from his stance, his expression softening somewhat as he turned to face me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. Slowly, his hand slid up to touch my face. “You make this better for us.”
My heart practically melted. It was more emotion than Adrian had showed in all the time I’d spent with him. One of the most touching things he’d ever done.
“I… I’m also glad you—”
Midway through my sentence the others closed in. With our backs to the rest of the mourners, Warren pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket.
“You still have that?” Adrian chuckled.
“Shit yeah.”
Warren passed him the old dented flask he carried around with him since the dawn of time. Or at least, since his great-grandfather had bequeathed it to him as a kid.
“This thing really from World War II?” asked Adrian, before taking a slug.
“Sure is,” Warren said proudly. “Where do you think the dent came from?”
“Probably from when you dropped it,” Luke joked, taking the flask himself.
“Japanese bayonet,” Warren said, repeating the same story he’d told us a hundred times before. “Saved his life, battle of Attu.”
“Never heard of that one,” Luke said. He passed me the flask. “Sounds made up.”
“Look at the scuff marks,” Warren shrugged defensively. “Are those made up?”
I took my own swig as they continued needling him mercilessly. Wherever it came from, I’d sipped several different things from the flask, many times in the past. Right now it was filled with spiced rum. Strong rum.
“Think I should give her some?” I asked, only half kidding around. I glanced at the urn before looking over my shoulder.
No one was watching. Not that I could see.
“Here.”
Adrian took the flask and placed it right up against the urn. For the next minute or so we stood quietly, hands folded, heads bowed. I opened my mind to the past, letting thoughts of Elizabeth flow like water. I saw her face, heard her laughter. I swore I could even smell the citrus shampoo she constantly used, that always made her hair bounce so well.
In my heart and in my mind, I said my final goodbyes. Just as I finished, a warm hand slipped into mine.
“Let’s go finish remembering her together,” said Luke, as the others nodded. “She would’ve wanted that, too.”
Nineteen
KAYLA
“And that time she spoke in a British accent for like, three straight months?” laughed Luke. “What the hell was that about?”
The shadowy night rolled by slowly, enveloping us all around. It was raining again, of course. Warren had been driving us around aimlessly for about an hour, passing his flask around to everyone but him.
