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Tommy sits between us. My dad next to me, and Ella, Robby and a heavily pregnant Kim, Nat and her fiancé Justin, Blake and Chloe and their families taking up the rest of the pew on the other side of Josh.
Josh’s team had flown back from Hong Kong without attending the event, and going by the look of surprise on Josh’s face, he wasn’t aware of their decision. They sit behind us at the front of the church, along with their families and many others from Josh’s work life.
Members from Grams’s church take up one side of the room, we take up the other. Soon, the church begins to fill, murmured voices and condolences filtering through the air.
I sit with my gaze lowered, with Tommy’s little hand in mine, his finger tracing circles in my palm—another thing Josh does for him when he’s sad.
The service starts, the priest says a few words, and so do her friends and other members of the church. Ella speaks, too, her words covering everything Josh and I feel. And soon, but nowhere near soon enough, it’s all over. I breathe, relieved that I was able to make it through without breaking down. We stand in unison, Josh leading the way, me in one hand, Tommy in the other, and we hold our heads high as we walk down the aisle and toward the church doors. There’s no space in the room left unoccupied. Groups of people stand against the walls, against the corners, anywhere they can to pay their respects to a woman who created a legacy. As we reach the doors, doors ajar from the people trying to pile into the room, I hear a tiny voice call Tommy’s name. We all stop and turn to the sound.
“Nessa,” Tommy shouts, letting go of Josh’s hand. He runs back a few steps and slows just in time to not crash into her. “What are you doing here?”
“We came for Becca,” she says simply, pointing down the row. Members of Say Something—volunteers, kids, parents take up the entire row and the one after it. I cover my mouth with my hand, shocked and confused, and the confusion doubles when I see Pete and the rest of the team from the paper. I turn to Josh, now standing beside me, “How?” I mouth, allowing a single sob to escape. “Why?”
Josh shrugs as he points a couple rows down toward Dawn and Lexy and even Aaron. “They all wanted to be here, Becs. For you.”
I move to Dawn first, allowing her to hug me. She’s been such a huge part of my life for so long and I’d taken that for granted. She’s here. For me. “You’re going to get through this,” she whispers in my ear.
“I know,” I mouth, believing her more than ever before.
I will get through it.
For Grams.
For Josh.
For Tommy.
“You need to look outside,” Dawn says, smiling genuinely at me.
My feet falter, my steps slow as I make my way back to the entrance, Josh doing what he can to keep me upright. It’s all too much. I’m on the verge of falling apart, of shattering in his arms, of becoming nothing more than a thousand pieces he’ll have to work to make whole again.
The crowd at the doors part, allowing Josh and I to walk through.
We freeze when we see it.
Just like time does.
People stand on the steps of the church, litter through to the sidewalk and onto the road, far beyond where my eyes can see.
Hundreds of people stand…
…beneath a sea of red balloons.
Next to me, Josh grabs one from Grams’s crazy friend Mavis and hands it to me, then takes one for himself.
Mavis clears her throat and leans in to whisper, “Your grandmother told me this is how she wanted to be remembered. Up there,”—she points to the sky—“she wanted to give everyone she came across a red balloon.”
“Why?” I mouth, looking up for an answer.
I release the first balloon, then watch as a couple join them, followed by dozens, until the sky is filled with nothing but red.
People clap.
People cheer.
People chant my grandmother’s name.
Mavis laughs, her arms waving in the air as if to work up the crowd. “Your grams was a thousand shades of crazy, Becca,” she shouts. “And we loved every single one.”
* * *
“He finally went down,” Josh says through a sigh, walking into his bedroom while tugging at his tie.
I sit with my legs crossed in the middle of the bed, already changed out of my black dress and into one of his t-shirts. “I can’t believe he’s not exhausted,” I sign.
Josh sits on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched. “I know.” He removes his tie completely and unceremoniously dumps it on the floor. Then he just stares at it. Moments pass before he turns to me. “I’m so beat.”
