Lina and Dad were having a glass of wine. Sam and I had gotten out of our funeral getups.
There was a cold drizzle falling, and I wondered if we were going to have a cold winter. Maggie was scratching at the door. I let her in. And then I thought that maybe life was like that—?there would always be something scratching at the door. And whatever was scratching would just scratch and scratch until you opened the door.
I sat back down at the kitchen table. What was it about kitchen tables?
Lina looked over at Sam. “I have something for you.”
She reached into her purse, pulled out a ring. She placed it in Sam’s palm.
Sam stared at it. She kept staring and staring. “It’s an engagement ring,” she whispered.
“She was wearing it the night of the accident.”
“She wasn’t wearing it when she left the house.”
Lina nodded. She was wearing a sad smile. “I think your mother got engaged the night she died.”
“To Daniel?”
Lina nodded.
“So she got what she always wanted.”
“Yes, she got what she always wanted.”
“And Daniel?”
“His family took his body to be buried in San Diego.”
Sam kept staring at the ring. She kept nodding. “Then she must have died happy.”
She laid her head on the table and cried.
River
I WAS LYING ON MY BED, thinking about things. I could hear the wind outside. Maggie was on loan to Sam. Not that there was really any lending going on. Maggie seemed to know that Sam was sad. So it was okay. Still, I missed Maggie.
Then I got a text from Sam: The world has changed.
Me: We’ll make it through Sam: I love u and ur dad. U know that, right?
Me: We love u back
Sam: I won’t cry anymore Me: Cry all you like
Sam: I didn’t hate her Me: I know
Sam: Slumber party?
Me: Absolutely
I got out of bed, turned on the lamp, put on my sweatpants. I took my sleeping bag out of the closet. Sam and Maggie came walking through the door. Sam threw herself on my bed. Maggie licked my face before jumping up on the bed.
“Let’s listen to a song, Sally,” Sam said.
“’K,” I said. “What about ‘Stay With Me’?”
“Sam Smith is gay. You do know that?”
“You got something against gay people?”
And there we were, laughing again. What was it with this laughing thing? We were not supposed to be in the laughing mood. But there it all was. Me and Sam laughing.
Whistling in the dark?
Whistling in the dark.
“Give me a song, will you, Sammy?”
“What?”
“I need a song. Give me one.”
I thought a moment. “I got one,” I said. “It’s called ‘River.’”
“Who sings it?”
“Emili Sande.”
“I like her.”
“Me too.”
“’K,” I said. I took out my laptop and found the song on YouTube.
Sam turned off the light.
We lay there in the dark listening to Emili Sande’s voice.
And when the song ended, it seemed that the world had gone completely silent.
Then I heard Sam’s voice in the dark. “So you’ll be my river, Sally?” She was crying again.
“Yeah,” I said. “‘I would do all the running for you.’” I would have sung her the whole song, but I have a not-so-great singing voice.
“And you’ll move the mountains just for me?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
And then I was crying too. Not out-of-control crying, but crying. Soft, like it was coming from a place inside me that was quiet and soft too, and that was better than the hard place inside me when I made a fist, or wanted to make one.
Maybe the river was made of our tears. Mine and Sam’s.
Maybe the river was made of everybody’s tears. Everybody who had ever lost anybody. All those tears.
Cigarettes
I WOKE EARLY, MY MIND trying to catch up with everything that had happened. Life had always been slow and easy, and all of a sudden I felt like I was living my life in a relay race and there was no one else to hand the baton to. I lay in bed, repeating the names of my uncles and aunts. I’d always done that when I was stressed. And all of a sudden I panicked. School! Oh, shit, school! And then I realized it was Saturday. I’d missed a whole week of school. I wondered if my dad had called the school. Of course he had. I got up. Sam was fast asleep, and Maggie was looking at me like it was time for her to go outside and do her morning thing. Maggie. Her life was simple. I used to think mine was too.
Maggie and I made our way to the kitchen.
My dad was pouring himself a cup of coffee. I opened the back door to let Maggie out. She looked up at me, barked, wagged her tail, and ran out into the yard. Dogs are amazing. They know how to be happy.
My dad took out another cup and poured a coffee for me. I grabbed it and took a sip. Dad made really good coffee.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Good. Sam came over to my room and we had a slumber party.”
“You stay up talking all night?”
“Nah. I think she just didn’t want to be alone. She needed to sleep.”
“Sleep is good,” he said.
“You?”
“Okay. I slept okay.”
He opened the drawer where he kept his cigarettes. He wasn’t storing them in the freezer anymore. “It’s a little cold,” he said. “Wanna grab me a coat?”
I went to the closet in the entryway and put on a coat and grabbed one for my dad.
He handed me his coffee, and I held it as he put on his coat.
“Sometimes I wish we could sleep through all the bad stuff,” I said as we sat down. “You know, like the song. Wake me up, you know, when it’s over. It would be good to sleep until we woke up wiser.”
“I like that song—?but it doesn’t work that way, does it, Salvie?”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t like death.”
“I don’t think anyone does. But it’s something we have to live with.” He took a drag from his cigarette and looked at me. “The news isn’t good about Mima.”
I nodded.
“She’s coming home. There’s not much we can do but keep her comfortable.”
“She’s going to die?”
“Yeah, Salvie, I think we’re going to lose her.”
“I hate God.”
“That’s an easy thing to say. Let you in on a little secret, Salvie. Hating God is a lot of work.”
“He doesn’t need her. I do.”
He put out his cigarette and wrapped his arm around me. “All your life I’ve tried to protect you from all the shit in the world, from all the bad things. But I can’t protect you from this. I can’t protect you and I can’t protect Sam. All I have is a shoulder. And that will have to do. When you were a little boy, I used to carry you. I miss those days sometimes. But those days are over. I can walk beside you, Salvie—?but I can’t carry you. You get what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. And then I got up. “I’m gonna take a walk.”
“Walking is good, Salvie.”