“Of course, Honey. I wish there was something I could do. I hate that you’re hurting like this.”
I hang up and let my phone slide out of my hands and tumble down the stairs. Monica stares at it for a second before shrugging and sitting next to me. She combs her fingers through my air-dried waves.
“Want me to straighten this for you? Here are your clothes, by the way. I picked that black seersucker you never wear, that way you don’t have to wear it ever again.”
“Thanks. Where’s Regan?”
“He’s riding with C.J. and Josh and they’re going right to the church. He spent last night packing his things, says he’s going back to Ireland on Wednesday.” She looks to the ground.
I raise my brows. “Seriously? He’s going to just take off?”
“Can you blame him? What else is holding him here? He was only planning to stay through August anyway, now that his girlfriend is ...”
I shake my head and stand. “You’re right. If it had been Bo, I don’t know what I would have—”
“I know.” She hooks her arm around my waist and walks us into the house.
David Bryson has floated in and out for the last forty-eight hours, and we find him busying himself in the kitchen. The sound and smell of frying bacon fills the house and Monica helps herself to a plate.
“That smells delicious.” She sits at the table and digs in.
“Thank you. Ember, would you like some?”
Monica snorts.
“She’s a vegetarian,” Bo chimes in from behind me.
David shakes his head, mumbling something about “hippies” before turning his attention back to the bacon.
“There you are. You slept heavy last night.” I stick out my hand to catch an apple Bo tosses from the refrigerator. “Thanks.”
“Thanks for staying.” His tone is flat and, if I didn’t know the situation, I’d say it sounded sarcastic.
Bo pulls away from the fridge and I watch him in silence. His grey suit matches the look on his face, and his mechanical movements catch my breath. This is what it looks like when someone is actually “going through the motions.”
Pour coffee.
Pour creamer.
Stir.
Sip.
Look around.
“You know,” he starts, looking at the three of us gathered around the table, “today will go a lot smoother for me if you all stop staring at me like I’m a bomb.” His half-empty coffee mug crashes into the sink and he storms out of the room. Monica and I stare at each other, her fork mid-air.
“It’s OK, girls,” David says softly. “He’s going to feel a wide range of emotions for a long time. Stick with him.”
*
Monica finishes my hair, and when I’m finally dressed, we head downstairs. I don’t trust my tears today, so I’ve opted for no makeup. Monica receives a text from Josh saying David and Bo are at the church. It almost bugs me they didn’t tell us they were leaving, until I realize David may have wanted some one-on-one time with Bo. Maybe Bo needed to be alone.
“You slept together last night?” Monica asks as she turns onto the main road.
“Not like that. He said he didn’t want to be alone ...” I close my eyes and remember the feel of his hair through my fingers, as I lay awake.
As we come upon the First Congregational Church, the sheer number of people present overwhelms me. Traffic is being directed by a lone police officer in black cotton gloves. It’s just like W.H. Auden wrote it, and I really wonder if anything can ever come to any good in a world that no longer holds Rachel Cavanaugh.
We park a block away and walk quickly to the church. It seems weird, having a funeral in the middle of summer on a gorgeous eighty-degree day. I picture all funerals happening in winter; grey skies, people bundled in black pea coats burying their faces in their scarves. No, today there isn’t anywhere to hide our sorrows. I should have worn yellow or something, I realize too late as we file up the church steps like ants. Rae would have liked color.
I bob my head up and down and side-to-side trying to spot Bo, as we make our way down the center aisle of the church. I see him in the front row, but the pearl necklace sitting next to him stops me in my tracks. Ainsley’s perched directly between Bo and Regan. Before irritation takes over, I grin and lead my eyes upward, sharing a laugh with Rae over her choice of jewelry. Two rows behind Bo and what appears to be family, Josh flags us down. We slide into the row, acknowledging uneasy condolences from C.J. before the service begins.