Melinda didn’t need directions to the updated Craftsman-style home. They’d all driven to and from Colby’s place hundreds of times over the past four months. Colby’s parents had been surprised and overly delighted, when his friends started coming around. Cicely had always hung around the edges of the group, for the store-bought — but still tasty — treats that Candace provided.
Colby had a pool, but it hadn’t yet been warm enough to swim since his family moved into town in November. Luci had taken him to the Christmas dance. Her friends thought she’d gone crazy, but they didn’t say anything outright. He’d only danced the slow songs, gently rubbing against her during Don’t Stop Believing at the end of the evening. By then, Luci had already decided to like him long term, and not just because he was the newest, most interesting boy she’d laid eyes on in twelve years. He stirred something within her. Hormones, probably. Love, maybe.
Various people from the church service were parking along the street as Melinda pulled up to the house. They were carrying casserole dishes, or baking, or flowers from the church. Lilies dominated.
Melinda double-parked, then turned to look at Luci in the passenger seat. Luci gazed out and up at the house. The afternoon was gray enough that she could see the light was still on in Colby’s room.
“We could just blow this totally off, you know,” Melinda said.
“I know,” Luci answered. She didn’t feel remotely ready for everything that was going to happen next. Everything else she hoped she’d planned perfectly, but didn’t actually want to do.
No one else spoke. Trina started texting or tweeting in the back seat. The beeping of that had always bothered Melinda, who threw a dirty look over her shoulder.
John elbowed Trina and tried to change the subject. “Yeah, um. I really didn’t get that poem you had me read, Luci.”
Zoe piped up. “Isn’t it about death and God and stuff?” She was fairly new to the group, and wasn’t completely sure yet when it was a good time to contribute.
“Obvious much?” Melinda sneered.
“I think it’s about love and life,” Luci, ever the peacemaker, said.
“It’s about being a cry baby, which Colby totally was. Who kills himself? Only a baby loser!” Trina snarled. She hated not being able to tweet.
John elbowed his girlfriend a second time. He went through girlfriends really quickly. It didn’t help that he was the captain of the basketball team and handsome in a completely well-fed, clean-cut way. He was Colby’s opposite, actually. It also didn’t help that he was Luci’s best friend. Not many girls measured up to Luci, who was — and always had been — strictly off limits. Friendship came first for both of them.
“What?” Trina asked. “Everybody’s thinking it.”
“He really was an asshole,” Melinda said. They all continued to watch people clump together, then walk up the sidewalk to the house. “Offing himself when supposedly he loved Luci so much ... well, you know.”
Luci finally managed to wrap her hand around the door latch, open the door, and step out of the car. The others piled out of the back seat in a jumble of limbs and curses behind her.
“Okay,” Melinda called through Luci’s open door. “I’ll just park up the street.”
Luci, her eyes still on Colby’s window, closed the car door and walked toward the house.
*
Inside, the wake was in full swing. People were eating and drinking, wandering around the main floor and conversing in hushed tones. The traditional floor plan of the Craftsman — with the living room situated across from the dining area — was perfectly designed for formal occasions such as this.
Luci attempted to slip in through the open front door and dart up the stairs. However, the moment she entered, Candace spotted her. Colby’s mother swooped over to grab her by the shoulders and fake-kiss her on each cheek.
“Luci!” Candace cried for the benefit of her mournful guests. “Ah, Luci. Colby’s little love. Thank you for coming.”
John, Trina, and Zoe stood waiting behind Luci. A solid guard at her back. Candace impatiently waved them farther into the house. They ignored her by casting their gazes in the direction she indicated but not moving.
More guests arrived.
“You come see me before you go,” Candace said. “I have something … Colby, my boy, would want you to have …”
Luci nodded as she delicately disengaged herself from Candace’s grip. Colby’s mother now seemed to be actually choking on actual remorse that had finally cracked through her veneer. Luci pushed away the reciprocal emotion that she felt rise underneath her own facade. She needed to hold on just a few hours longer. Just until sunset. Then, one way or the other, it would all be definitively over for her.
Vanessa appeared out of the dining room crowd to rub Candace’s back and greet the guests waiting behind Luci’s wall of friends.
Luci, thwarted from her upstairs trajectory, crossed in the opposite direction, through the living room toward the kitchen.
Abram, who was sharing a bottle of expensive single-malt scotch with a group of dads huddled around the TV — including Luci’s stepfather — impeded her passage. “Luci! You hanging in there, kiddo?”
“Yes, Mr. ... Abram.”
“Good, good. You see the Canucks beat Philly 2—0 last night?” Though he clapped Luci on the shoulder as he asked the question, he was already turning back to the other men. “Luci’s brother, Pete, is on the farm team —”
“What is wrong with you?” Candace shrieked from the entranceway.
Luci — along with Abram and the entire room — turned to see Candace swoop down on Colby’s father.
“Your son is dead. Dead! Dead! And you’re talking about hockey! All you do is drink and watch TV. You haven’t even cried!”
People shuffled uncomfortably and quickly distanced themselves from the couple. Luci took the opportunity to slip back the way she came, behind her wide-eyed friends — John was actually frozen with a cucumber tea sandwich an inch from his open mouth — and upstairs. She’d already seen Colby’s parents in action, even before her boyfriend’s suicide, and she had no interest in seeing it again.
Also, time was short. The sun set early this time of year.
*