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He walked to her open casket and looked at how peaceful his wife was. Her hands rested on her stomach, with her left hand on top of her right. Before they took her away from him, he’d take her rings off and slip them into his pocket. He hadn’t a clue what he’d do with them. Maybe put them back in the box and set them next to his bed, on what would be her side, or tuck them away in his drawer.
“Mr. Wagner, it’s time,” the funeral director said behind him.
Kent nodded and pressed a kiss to Palmer’s forehead. “You have no idea how much I miss you.” He knew she wasn’t in there. This body of hers, the surgeons had emptied it. They took everything. He hadn’t cared where her organs went, as long as her sister received Palmer’s liver. That was his only stipulation. He thought about asking to see the octopus. He wanted to stab it, mangle it, and destroy it like it had done to Palmer. In the end, he changed his mind. He saw it as the giant ugly octopus that Palmer described, and that’s how he wanted to remember it.
He’d called Courtney from the ambulance to let her know her sister had passed. It was the first time they’d spoken since they’d met in the restaurant. He told her to get to the hospital because they were going to call her shortly with news of a liver. Courtney had been beside herself. Her doctors had told her it would be years before she would be at the top of the list for a transplant. She thanked him and promised to call him later. She called after her surgery, but he didn’t answer. He had nothing to say.
That first night without her was pure torture. He lay awake in his bed and stared at the ceiling. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw Palmer. For every happy memory he conjured up, a sad one followed. The dizziness, the memory loss, the fear and sadness in her eyes, the seizures that crippled her. Those were the times he didn’t want to remember. He was so incredibly thankful the barista at RoccoBean had suggested the Instagram account because now he had something to look at every day. Sure, he had videos of her on her phone, but she rarely spoke in them. He had kept their lives in his feed, there for anyone to watch. There for him to hold on to every ounce of her he could.
The doors opened, and Kent stood next to Palmer’s casket to receive people. There wouldn’t be a service after the wake, or a memorial later. This was all he could muster for right now. In the coming days, he’d decide what to do with her apartment and belongings, and he’d return to the life he’d led before he responded to the 911 call that put Palmer in his path.
People flooded the funeral home. Kent shook hand after hand and accepted every condolence. When the last person he thought he’d see turned the corner, he didn’t know what to think. Maeve came forward in a black dress and a protruding belly. She kissed his cheek and told him how sorry she was.
“Hi,” he said as he took her in. Kent had only asked her a couple of times about her pregnancy. He had been so preoccupied with Palmer, and not wanting to believe he was going to be a dad. He looked at her growing midsection and wished Palmer could see Maeve. “I’m surprised to see you.”
“I know. Maybe I shouldn’t be here, but I felt like I had to come.”
“I appreciate it.” Kent wasn’t sure he did or not, but it felt right to say. “We should probably talk.”
“Later,” Maeve said. “When you’re settled and have had some time.”
“Okay.” He kissed her on her cheek and thanked her for coming. He didn’t take his eyes off her until she disappeared into the crowd. Kent had been so preoccupied with making sure Palmer lived her best life with the time she had that he had pushed Maeve and the baby from his mind. He wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. He didn’t want to. He’d told Maeve he would be there, and he would, every step of the way, from this point on. Plus, he’d promised Palmer he would finish her list with his daughter, and he wouldn’t let his wife down. Not in life or death.
Once he’d received the last person, he took his place at the podium. He looked out at the crowd. Every seat had been filled, and people stood. Palmer wouldn’t believe this if he could tell her. There was a roomful of people who cared about her.
“I want to thank you all for coming. For those who don’t know me, I’m Kent, Palmer’s husband.” A murmur rose over the crowd, and he smiled. To the side, a projection screen showed photos and videos from their trip. “Many of you knew Palmer through work. You saw the serious side of her, while I got the adventurous side. While you got years of her, I got months, and in those months, we traveled the United States on a quest—a quest for happiness, enlightenment, and answers. I believe we accomplished the goal we set out to do, and did so while falling in love. Palmer was my best friend, my partner, and most importantly, the love of my life. I thank you all for coming today. I know for some of you, her passing isn’t something you expected to hear about, and she was truly sorry she couldn’t tell you herself about her battle, but she’d be happy to know you’re here today, to celebrate her life.”
