I looked down at it, and could still practically hear his words, see his smile. Hey, kid! What’s the news? So I’d done my best to try to tell him, keeping him informed about our lives—how Warren and Wendy were still going strong and had worked out a detailed visiting schedule, on a spreadsheet, for when they both started college. How my mother was going to start teaching dance again. How Gelsey was already planning on spending her spring break in Los Angeles with Nora, meeting movie stars. That Murphy had, against everyone’s expectations, learned to fetch. And that I was doing okay too.
I looked back and saw Henry’s car pull into the small parking lot just down the hill from the cemetery. I knew he’d give me all the time I needed—and sometimes it was a lot of time, as I found this spot to be a place where it was easy to cry—not to mention totally expected. It wasn’t like everything was fine, not by a long shot. There were still moments I missed my dad so much that it hurt, physically, like someone had punched me. There were moments that I got so angry, I was liable to snap at the wrong person, just to release some of the rage at the unfairness of it all. And there were days when I woke up with my eyes puffy and swollen from crying. But we—the four remaining members of the Edwards family—had somehow, against all odds, become okay with talking about our feelings. And on days when it was particularly bad, I knew that there were people I could turn to.
I pushed myself up to standing and looked down at the grave for a long time. “Bye, Daddy,” I whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”
I turned and headed down the hill, where Henry was leaning against the car. “Hey,” he said, as I got close enough to hear him.
“Hi,” I said, giving him an only slightly trembling smile. It hadn’t been simple, finding our way back to being together, especially with my loss so raw. But one thing that I was learning about what happened when you stuck around—it usually seemed that other people were willing to stick by you as well. Even though we were heading back to Connecticut soon, and he was staying here, the distance wasn’t worrying me. We’d been through too much together to let a few hours’ separation split us up now. He leaned down to kiss me, and I kissed him back, making it count. I had a feeling my dad would understand.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked when we stepped apart.
I nodded. We were having a dinner at our house, a good-bye event before everyone started leaving. Lucy and Elliot, who hadn’t stopped holding hands—and making out—once he finally got up enough courage to tell her how he felt, were bringing the cups and plates (stolen, I was sure, from the snack bar). Fred and Jillian were bringing fish. Warren and Wendy were in charge of the seating plan, and I’d no doubt my brother would tell us all how the first one was invented. Kim and Jeff were bringing their finalized screenplay for some after-dinner entertainment, as well as a sneak peek at their pilot, Psychic Vet Tech. Henry was bringing the dessert, and I had picked up the final element that afternoon at Give Me A Sign.
I pulled it out of my purse now and held it out to Henry, who smiled when he saw it. SOARING ROBIN, it read, with a bird in flight etched beneath it.
“Very nice,” he said. He glanced back up to the hill for a moment, then back at me. “I think he’d like it.”
“I think so too.” I glanced up and saw that it was getting dark quickly; I could see the very first stars starting to appear. “Come on,” I said. I smiled at him as I threaded my hand through his. “Let’s go home.”