FIFTEEN
Mallory
As much as I wanted to cry, I refused. Dad wouldn’t want me to mourn him. He would want me to cherish all the moments I had with him when he was alive. Of course, that didn’t make this dreadful day any worse. I took refuge in the fact that he wasn’t inside the death box from hell.
The place was decorated nicely with an assortment of flowers, which I thought was the perfect embodiment of my dad: here today, gone tomorrow. It was ironic, really. The beautiful flowers would wilt away in the summer heat, much as my father had done in the past few years. No matter how much he’d told me he wanted me to be happy in Boston, I couldn’t help the guilt that plagued my soul. I should have been here for him. He’d suffered alone while I had been living a perfect life in the city. Well, not entirely alone. He’d had Luke. Luke.
Luke was the one person who understood my guilt. He sat by me through the service as I held onto his hand for dear life. He was my lifeline. He made me feel strong enough to deal with the death of my father. Even though we hadn’t talked much over the past few days, we were still connected. We needed to work out some of the details of our on-again relationship.
Although we didn’t need to work anything out. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt Luke wanted to get back together. I was the one who was fickle. As much as I adored Luke, and yes, I probably loved him, I wasn’t sure I wanted to settle for this small town. Dad’s terminal status had resigned me to spending a few months here, but now that my ties to Casper were gone, all I could think about was Boston. My roommates weren’t intrusive about my personal life like Rainey and Gabby. I loved them, but my Boston roomies didn’t dig deep into how I felt about things. Rain and Gab were two of the most infuriating women on the planet.
They hadn’t left my house since the night of the slumber party. One of them was with me at all times. They refused to leave me alone in my time of need. Ha! What I needed was for them to leave me in peace. I just wanted to grieve my dad without dealing with inadequate condolences and people telling me about the people they lost in their life. But Gabby and Rainey were constantly at my side, both before and after Dad’s death.
Except, of course, for the few hours I managed to slip out before he died and spend some quality time with Luke. And oh, what an amazing few hours it was. I was sixteen the first time I slept with Luke. It was the night he graduated high school. It had been beautiful and terrifying and everything I dreamed it would be, even if it were a little awkward.
Luke had learned some moves; he wasn’t shy or afraid to take what he wanted. We’d both grown up, it seemed, and sex had been a thousand times better than when we were kids. I couldn’t believe he was the same man I’d left years ago. He matured over the course of three years, but so had I. I wasn’t a naïve little girl who believed in happily ever after. My dad’s death was proof enough for me that it didn’t exist.
I clung to him at the funeral service, even though I knew I would leave him again. I couldn’t live in this town without my father, no matter how much I cared for Luke.
When the pastor began his short sermon, I expected it to be preachy, but I was pleasantly surprised. And heartbroken all the same. He started with a greeting and then went into the story of the footprints in the sand.
I wanted to cry as he recited the words of the poem I had memorized as a child. My lips moved in unison with his as he read. I felt the reality of Dad’s death and I fought to keep my composure. It was a ridiculous struggle, but I believed that tears at his funeral would make him look down on me in shame.
“When we face the most troubling times of our lives, we must remember that God has a plan for us, even if we can’t see that plan,” he said. The pastor continued on, discussing the afterlife and how we should rejoice that another of God’s children had been called home.
I didn’t see anything to rejoice over, especially not when I’d lost the last member of my family. I was completely and utterly alone. Not even thoughts of my time with Luke could console my aching heart. I wanted to crawl into a hole and just die.
When the pastor asked if anyone would like to speak a few words about my dad, Luke squeezed my hand and stood. The pastor moved away from the microphone to let him speak.
“When I met Joe Wells, I was just a punk kid who only cared about seeing how far I could get with his daughter,” he started. I blushed furiously. “But when our relationship ended, as most teen romances do, my relationship with Joe only grew. He was like a father to me, but he was also one of my closest friends. He was more than just a good man—he was an amazing person as a whole. He believed in second chances and seeking out dreams. He taught me to believe in happy endings.”
I was shocked by his speech, especially since it was the beautiful opposite of my inner thoughts. Luke returned to my side without hesitation and I grabbed for his hand again.
“Joe’s family has prepared a video slideshow of photos they would like to share,” the pastor informed us.
I wanted to demand Luke take me home, but he gave me a gentle squeeze and we watched the show together. Pictures from my childhood flashed in front of us. The photos I’d pulled out of the box in my bedroom, plus some I didn’t submit. I glanced at Luke but he kept his gaze straight ahead. A photo of Luke’s senior prom, arm draped over my shoulder while my dad made a face beside us. A picture of Dad pretending to strangle Luke caused laughter to filter throughout the crowd. My high school prom photos, the ones Luke and I had pretended to be happy in. I pushed down the lump in my throat.
When the funeral service ended, I let myself be led to the car. We were hosting a small reception at our house. It never dawned on me that I wouldn’t want to deal with so many people. The house was already crowded when Luke pulled his car in the drive. I swallowed the lump in my throat and opened the passenger door. Luke was there in an instant to help me out. I wanted to thank him but I couldn’t form the words.
The inside of my house had been transformed into a social gathering with people I was sure I’d never even met standing around eating food and chatting. It was all so normal, so very much like a party that I couldn’t take it. I made a beeline for my room but I was stopped by two older women wearing ridiculous hats.
“Mallory Wells, is that you?” the one with a yellow hat asked me.
I couldn’t help but notice that with her yellow hat and dress, she looked like a marshmallow Peep.
“Why, it’s been years since you’ve been back, hasn’t it? At least you came for your daddy’s funeral service,” she remarked.
I was about to punch an old woman in the face when Luke saved me.
“Ladies, is this Easter? It is customary to wear dark colors in respect for the deceased. And may I say you both look like you’re attending a party instead of a reception to mourn the dead. I’m sure Joe is up in Heaven, thankful for the two of you,” he said as he pulled me away from them and toward my bedroom.
I could imagine my dad laughing at the old biddies. It brought a smile to my face.
“Thank you,” I said once he shut the door to my bedroom and cut out the world outside.
“Anything for you, Mal,” he said.
I had him alone, and I knew I needed to be honest with him. He moved in for a hug but I pulled away.
“Luke, we need to talk,” I started.
His laughter surprised me.
“I hope it’s not the same talk we had a few days ago. I think Joe would frown upon us,” he said, jokingly.
I realized the last time I said those words to him, I’d jumped him. He wouldn’t like the outcome of this chat.
“No, Luke, it’s not like that. Honestly, it’s the opposite of that. I wanted to let you know that after the reading of the will next week, I’m going back to Boston,” I said in a rush.
I watched as the anger rose up in him. But he didn’t speak right away. He took several calming breaths before he finally addressed me.
“Fine. I see you’re still as spoiled rotten as ever and you’ve learned nothing about me in the past week, or hell, the past seven years! This isn’t a game, Mallory,” he said.
I should have heeded his warning. “A game? Oh, like the one you played when I left? Getting close to my father to spite me so that you could rub it in my face when he died—that’s a great play, Luke. But you’re right, this isn’t a game. If I’ve learned nothing in the last week, it’s that people always let you down—they always leave. So before you get the pleasure of leaving me, I’m leaving you first. I didn’t make you sleep with me again, so don’t you dare try to accuse me of playing some game. I told you I wasn’t going to stay in Casper forever. It isn’t my fault if you didn’t listen to me.”
I was seething. I wanted to hurt him, to make him hate me so he didn’t feel the heartbreak I knew he suffer from. I wanted him to have someone better.
The flash of hurt I saw in his eyes before his anger reappeared was enough that I didn’t want to say anymore. I didn’t want to hurt him again, but I needed to get out of this town and falling deeper in love with him was only going to hurt us both in the end. I folded my arms across my chest and waited for him to retaliate.
He didn’t, though. He gave me a short nod with a grimace, walked out of the room, and out of my life. I swallowed the lump in my throat, hoping I didn’t just make the biggest mistake of my life.