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“Don’t be an idiot and tie yourself down, Caleb,” he tells me. “There are plenty of women out there. Not to mention, that girl is a sinking ship. We passed Matthews Farm on our way here. She must be swimming in debt by the look of that property. Elaine always said—”
“Who’s Elaine?”
My father looks annoyed. With me, with being here, who knows. “Earl’s daughter. We were in the same year at school.”
“Lennon’s mother?”
My mother interrupts before my father responds. “We came to show our support, Caleb.”
There was a brief moment, when I saw my parents here, where I thought their presence was an olive branch. That they were finally acknowledging how much Lennon means to me. Now, I see it for what it really is: calculated optics. There’s not a single person in Landry who won’t hear about how Austin and Abigail Winters attended Earl Matthews’s memorial service.
It’s their way of cloaking true intentions.
Public support covering private meddling.
“You should go, Mom.”
That’s all I say. They’re not going to change their views, and neither am I. I know we’ll have more arguments that come to the same conclusion, but I’m too drained to engage in one now.
My mother nods. “Tell Lennon we’re sorry for her loss.” She steps forward to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Expensive, flowery perfume surrounds me in an invisible cloud.
They’re not even going to acknowledge Lennon directly. It doesn’t surprise me; it does piss me off.
All I manage in response is a stiff nod.
My father holds out his right hand in farewell. I stare at it for a long moment before I give it a firm shake. Before I’ve fully turned around, they’re swept up in a conversation with Luke’s parents, making plans to have dinner tomorrow evening.
Lennon’s still surrounded by well-wishers, so I don’t approach her. I head over to where Colt, Luke, and Jake are standing, next to the rose bushes that line the front path of the church.
“Your parents are here,” I tell Luke.
“Yeah, I know. They asked why I was coming, and I mentioned you, and then it turned into this whole thing about how if your parents might be here, they needed to be too.”
I shake my head. I can’t stand social posturing, and Landry is overflowing with it.
“Did you knowyourfolks were coming?” Jake asks me, nodding to where my parents are still conversing with the Evanses.
“No,” I reply. “Their attempt to soften the blow of warning me off Lennon again.”
“Oh,” Jake replies. He doesn’t need to ask how I feel about that. Or if I want to talk about it.
I glance at my watch. “I have to head to campus. I’ve got a weight session at four.” It’s just past noon now and I’ve got a three-hour drive to Clarkson.
I say goodbye to my friends, then head toward the lone figure standing at the edge of the parking lot.
Lennon speaks first, which is good. I have no clue what to say to her.
“How soon do you have to leave?”
I search her face, trying to figure out if this is just a simple inquiry or something more.
“Soon-ish,” I reply vaguely.
If she asks me to stay, I will.
Lennon nods, staring away at nothing. “I need to pick up his ashes. They’ve been ready for a couple of days, but I haven’t…”
My eyes close for a second, trying to block out the lost expression on her face.
