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A loud noise starts to pierce through the haze and spots of colored light enter my vision; reds and blues. Is Aubrey crying or is that just the floating water between us?
“I don’t know, we were—and he just stopped responding to me,” I hear Aubrey say.
Who is she talking to?
A darkness is flooding my vision, creeping in from the outside.
No, I don’t want to go to sleep. I want to enjoy the aftermath of this all. But the black is taking over and the noises around me are getting softer. All I can hear is Aubrey’s cries in the distance. Why is she crying? I’ll just close my eyes for a little bit, maybe.
Chapter thirty-two
Aubrey
I’veneverbeentoa funeral before. I’m told that people are crying more than they do at a typical funeral because people aren’t supposed to die this young. People aren’t supposed to leave this earth when they’re so happy and have everything they’ve ever wanted. They’re not supposed to die before they even really get the chance to live.
Emmett’s sister Emily is sitting next to me and gives me her goofy smile I’ve come to love, showing me her missing front tooth. She video-called me a few weeks ago when she’d lost it. She was so excited and we talked for nearly an hour about the impending tooth fairy visit. I had no idea who the tooth fairy was, and she found that hilarious. Emily was all too eager to explain to me in great detail who the tooth fairy was and how she apparently owed me a lot of money for all the teeth I’d lost as a child.
At first, I wasn’t sure she should be here today. Emmett’s parents had their reservations too, but she wanted to come. While I got ready this morning there were moments I wasn’t sure I could handle being here myself, but I knew I would regret it if I didn’t say goodbye. My stomach growls loudly. I’ve hardly eaten the past few days, and couldn’t stomach anything more than coffee this morning. Emily giggles at the sound my stomach makes, and her childish innocence at a time like this almost brings a smile to my face. I give her a tight squeeze before straightening myself back into my chair. Emmett’s parents take their seats on the other side of her, giving me sympathetic smiles under glassy eyes.
We’ve all had dinner together several times recently, and I’m starting to feel like they’re stepping into a paternal role for me. Emmett’s mom is warm and kind, but has strong opinions she isn’t afraid to share. She’s helping me learn to step into my own opinions as well, and be bold about my choices. His dad is a quiet man who is almost always wearing a suit. When he does happen to talk, it’s thoughtful and deliberate. He makes you want to listen to what he says. He reminded me more than once over the past few weeks that he was only a phone call away if Emmett needed to be put in his place. He of course meant it in a joking manner, but it feels nice to know his parents care about me in that way. In such a way they would put my feelings before their own sons if it was warranted.
I run my hands across the soft fabric of the black dress I’m wearing and pinch at my knuckles. My hands are twisted together in my lap.
Emmett places his strong hand over mine and I instantly relax, letting my body fall into his. He slings an arm around my shoulders, cradling me into him, and kisses the side of my head.
A soft melody begins to play from the corner of the room and an older couple with tears in their eyes walks in and sits in the front row. They must be her parents. They certainly look just like her. She had her mother’s eyes, and her father’s nose. I recognize the melody of the song playing and the first tear rolls down my cheek. Black Bird by The Beatles plays softly as Nate walks in behind her parents. He looks handsome in his tailored suit, but he has dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that aren’t normally there. Nate stands at the front of the room, next to the pearly white coffin with gold accents.
The coffin where Bea’s body lies; still, motionless and lifeless.
I remember reading somewhere that most car accidents happen within a very short distance of your own home. Bea fits into that statistic now.
They were on their way home from the airport and were only a few blocks away from their place in Sheridan when someone driving a big truck in the opposite direction fell asleep at the wheel. Nate and Bea’s driver, Michael, couldn’t react quickly enough. No one blames him. No one could have handled the situation any differently. I’ve heard though that he blames himself and I believe it by looking at him now. He’s sitting a few rows behind Bea’s parents and looks disheveled.
Somehow, Nate and Michael walked away with minor injuries. But Bea, Bea was killed on impact. She was gone before the ambulance even arrived. They say it took almost half an hour for the medics to convince Nate to let go of her so they could take her to the hospital for the official pronunciation of death. Everyone knew she was gone, but Nate knew as soon as he let go, she’d really be gone. He wouldn’t ever get to hold her again.
The service is short, but practically everyone is wiping away tears from their cheeks by the end. As Emmett and I make our way out of the building hand in hand I hear someone call my name. I turn around, coming face to face with Nate.
“Nate, I am so sorry,” I say and instinctively hug him.
Hugging someone so easily, that I’ve never hugged before, is something I never would have done a few months ago. Even in the sadness of the day, I have a brief moment of realization and am proud of myself.
“I’m sorry to be short. I have to head over to the cemetery. But can you come by the bakery tomorrow? Say about noon?” he asks.
“Yeah, of course,” I tell him before he turns to leave without another word.
The cemetery service is private, family only. I imagine they couldn’t handle everyone watching as they deal with their emotions of finally saying goodbye.
“That was kind of weird, right?” I say to Emmett.
“He’s grieving. If I lost you, there would be nothing normal about my actions,” Emmett says, wrapping his arms around me and letting me press my face to his chest.
“I almost did,” I say into his chest and choke on a sob.
“You almost what?”
“I almost lostyou.”
“Oh, gorgeous. No. You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get rid of me,” he says and pulls away so I can look up at him.
