“No funeral?” Miles said.
“Remember your parents’ funerals? And I remember my father’s. No way I’m going through that for Mia. We’re not religious. I’m not going to—”
“You don’t need to be religious to have a funeral, Judith,” her mother said. “God will be ther—”
“Don’t you dare mention God to me. He let her die.”
She saw her mother pale, draw back, and, just like that, Jude lost her hold on anger. Without it, she felt so exhausted she could hardly stand.
“I need to sleep,” she said. Clutching Mia’s purse and the single white rose, she turned her back on her family and stumbled down the hallway to her bedroom, collapsing on her bed.
Mia’s purse spilled out; the contents lay scattered across the expensive sheets.
Jude lay on her side, snuggled up to her pillow, staring down at Mia’s things.
The pink Juicy Couture wallet that had been last year’s Christmas gift. A tube of lip gloss, a bent and mangled tampon, a crumpled-up twenty-dollar bill, a half-empty pack of gum, and a used movie ticket. Inside the wallet was a picture of Zach, Mia, and Lexi taken at senior prom.
Forgive me?
If only she’d hugged Mia right then, told her that she loved her. Or if she’d said no to the party. Or taught her children that alcohol was dangerous even though parties were fun. Or insisted on driving them. Or not bought the kids a car or …
The list of her regrets grew too heavy, weighed her down; she closed her eyes.
Behind her, she heard her bedroom door open and close.
Miles came toward the bed—she could sense that it was him, but she couldn’t turn toward him or open her eyes. He slipped into bed, pulled her against him. She felt him stroke her hair, and she shivered at his touch, freezing again.
“Your mother left. She said something about knowing when she wasn’t welcome, which of course is completely untrue.”
“And Zach?”
“That’s the first time you’ve asked about him.”
“Don’t tell me how to grieve, Miles. I’m doing the best I can.”
“I know.”
“I never planted a white rose,” she said quietly. “Why didn’t I ask Mia what flower she liked? Why didn’t I know?”
He stroked her hair. “We can’t do this,” he said. “Going through our whole lives, tilling it up, looking for mistakes. It’ll kill us.”
She nodded, feeling tears start again.
God, she was already tired of crying, and it hadn’t even started. She’d been without her daughter for less than three days. The rest of her life stretched out before her like the Gobi Desert.
“We have to have a funeral,” Miles said softly.
“Because it’s the thing to do?”
“Because Zach and I need it.”
Jude pressed her face into the pillow, blotting her tears. “Okay,” she said, overcome again by all of it. “I’m going to sleep now,” she said, closing her eyes.
Miles left the room and closed the door behind him.
*
SEATTLE TIMES
Local Teen Killed in Drunk Driving Accident
An eighteen-year-old Pine Island girl was killed early yesterday morning in a single car crash on Night Road.
Mia Farraday, a Pine Island High School senior, was thrown out of a Ford Mustang when it hit a tree, authorities said.
The driver, eighteen-year-old Alexa Baill, of Port George, was reportedly intoxicated at the time. Another passenger, Zachary Farraday, was also injured in the incident.
Pine Island Police Officer Roy Avery is “tired of delivering bad news to parents of local teens.” He pointed out that before this most recent fatal crash, an accident in another part of the county killed a sixteen-year-old Woodside girl.
“Both wrecks happened on dark, twisty, two-lane roads, and both young drivers had been drinking,” Officer Avery said.
“We have to stop these teens from partying. That’s all there is to it. The consequences are tragic. Every year, there’s a grad-party accident. This year, someone was killed.”