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At the door, I notice Betsy following behind us. “No girl, you’ve got to stay.”
Betsy whines and turns her head to Doe, giving her pleading eyes. My dog has never taken to someone as much as she’s taken to Doe. Her behavior is strange, but in an odd sense, I like that my pet is so drawn to her.
Doe releases my hand and squats in front of Betsy, running her hand from her head down her spine. “It’s okay, girl. We’ll be back soon,” Doe says softly. Doe seems to be just as taken with Betsy as she lovingly pets her.
Betsy whines again, and I watch curiously as she licks Doe’s cheek before rubbing her snout into the crook of Doe’s neck. Doe looks up at me, and I answer her question before she has a chance to ask it.
“She can come.” I clear my throat of the scratchy feeling from watching Betsy and Doe interact.
The smile that graces Doe’s face has my chest tightening. She stands and reaches for my hand again, further surprising me. I lead her out the front door with Betsy following, lock it behind us, and then walk us over to my truck. Betsy automatically jumps in the back. I’ve taken her places with me multiple times, and she usually sits up front, but she must know her place is in the back when Doe is with us.
Where we’re going, the drive isn’t far. I turn the radio on but keep the volume down low. I don’t really care to talk at the moment, but having an awkward silence isn’t something I want to deal with either. Doe stays silent as well, which I’m grateful for. Without thought, my eyes slide over to her every few minutes. She has her fingers laced together in her lap and some of her long hair settles over her shoulders. She has her head turned away from me as she looks out the window, but I can see that she’s tense.
I stop by a small vendor on the side of the road in town and grab a dozen gardenias. When I set them beside us on the console, Doe looks at them.
“They’re gorgeous,” she comments softly.
I look down at them and a pang hits my chest. They were Aislin’s favorite. I once asked her why she liked them so much, and she told me they looked pure. It made me angry to hear her say that—not angry with her, but with the people who made her feel impure. She was one of the purest people I knew, but with her life the way it was, she didn’t feel that way.
“Thanks,” I mumble then start the truck.
We pull up to the Westbridge Cemetery five minutes later. I cut the engine and just sit there, looking out at all the headstones in front of us. Doe doesn’t say anything, but I know she’s curious. I feel her eyes on me as I stare out the windshield. My hands, which are still on the steering wheel, grip it hard. I’ve only been here once since Aislin died, and that was the day of the funeral. It’s just been too hard to come here. It makes it more real that she’s no longer here, which is stupid because she hasn’t been here for years. I’ve seen her dead body, but being here, knowing she’s buried six feet in the ground, makes it morereal.
“Stay here. I’ll be back.”
Before she has a chance to respond, I grab the flowers and climb from the truck. I don’t look back as I walk away, my gaze focused ahead on the gray headstone five rows over and six plots down. I may have only come here once, but I remember exactly where she’s at.
My palms sweat and my legs feel like they are filled with lead the closer I get to her grave. My heart beats erratically, leaving a hollow feeling in my throat. I have to fight back the tears threatening to fall.
I stop at the end of her grave. My knees grow too weak to hold me up, so I don’t even try and drop them to the damp ground. Looking up, my eyes land on the headstone. Several stars surround the words.
Aislin Kennedy Mathers
Date of Birth July 21, 1989
Date of Death August 30, 2017
She’s safe among the stars.
I clear my throat and try my best to talk past the tears.
“Hey, North.” My voice still comes out scratchy. Clearing my throat, I continue. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been by yet. It’s been really hard thinking of you in a place like this. This isn’t where you belong. You had too many years left of your life.”
Something warm trickles down my cheek, and I swipe it away. I lean over, making sure not to disturb the freshly grown grass, and place the flowers up by the headstone. I sit back on my heels and place my clenched fists on my thighs.
“I got bad news today, but I swear to you, it won’t stop me from finding who did this to you. I promise I’ll get this guy, and he’ll never touch another girl again.”
I drop my head and squeeze my eyes shut, releasing a couple more tears to fall on my hands.
“I’m so sorry I failed you,” I whisper hoarsely. “I’m so sorry you went through so much pain. I hope you’re happy where you are.”
The wind shifts, sending a cool breeze over me, and goose bumps appear on my arms. Somewhere off in the distance, a bird chirps. The sun filters through the trees, the rays shining down on the ground in some spots while leaving others in shadows. Flowers of many colors surround the cemetery on all four sides. To anyone else, the day appears to be bright and beautiful, but to me, it’s bleak and dark. Nothing about today is appealing.
A hand lands on my shoulder, and I jerk. I don’t need to turn to know who it is, and my initial reaction is anger that she’s near this sacred grave. Even though this is only my second visit, I consider this small patch of ground mine. It only takes a second for the anger to dissipate and for an odd sense of gratitude to replace it. I don’t know why, but I’m glad she’s here. It’s also not lost on me that that’s the third time she’s voluntarily made contact.
“Who was she?” Doe inquires gently then removes her hand.
“She was my friend,” I tell her just as softly.
