Page 41 of The Summer Swap

Theo appeared, wearing a suit. “We should leave. I don’t want to be late. What are you doing?”

“I’m making food to take with us.” Kristen scattered fresh herbs over the potato salad. Trisha was having a gathering at her house after the funeral, and she’d asked Kristen to bring a few dishes even though she wasn’t sure anyone would feel like eating. Kristen certainly didn’t feel like eating.

The funeral made her think of her father’s funeral. Her chest felt tight. Emotion spilled over.

“I’m dreading this funeral.” She looked at Theo, but he was staring into the mirror adjusting his tie. “Theo?” Look at me! Can’t you see I’m on the edge?

He frowned and tightened the knot. “You’ll be okay. You’re the strongest person I know.”

She stared at his back, wondering how he couldn’t see. Wondering why he didn’t know.

He was a doctor. He was supposed to be able to tell when someone was in distress.

And now she wished she’d said nothing. Better to have stayed silent and imagine that he just wasn’t tuned in to her emotions, than to speak and have her feelings dismissed.

She didn’t feel strong. She felt fragile. She’d used the last of her strength propping him up. Losing Michael had stirred up all the feelings of loss she’d been struggling to handle since her father’s death. Why couldn’t he see that?

“I wouldn’t have made it through the last week without you.” He turned and held her gaze. “Thank you.”

She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded. “I need to make a vinaigrette.”

“Right.” He checked the time. “Have you heard from your mother?”

“Not since her last message. She made it clear she wanted to be left alone, so that’s what I’m doing.”

She waited for Theo to ask how she felt about that. To ask if her feelings were hurt. But instead he reached for the oil and vinegar.

Kristen took the bottles from him and mixed a vinaigrette in a jar which she then slotted into the bag she’d packed for Trisha. “Can you grab the cheesecake from the fridge? Then we should leave.”

Theo didn’t move. “I’m dreading this funeral, too.” For a moment he reminded her of a little boy, vulnerable and afraid. “I wish we didn’t have to go.”

She wished that, too. It was an unfortunate feature of being an adult, that you ended up doing lots of things you didn’t want to do.

“We have to go.” She heaved the bag from the counter. “This is Trish. We have to support her.” Although she still didn’t really know what support Trisha would need. Technically speaking, Trisha wasn’t the widow. She hadn’t even been sure Trisha would be at the funeral but when she’d eventually found the inner strength to call her friend, it turned out that not only was Trisha going to the funeral, she was also organizing it. She asked me to do it, can you believe that?

Candy, the original party animal, apparently didn’t do funerals.

Theo removed the cheesecake from the fridge. “It’s my fault.”

“What is your fault?” Kristen took the cheesecake from him and added it to the bag.

“The fact that Michael is dead.” He’d said the same thing multiple times since that night. It was the first thing he said to her when he woke up and the last thing he said before he went to sleep. My fault.

She felt a rush of compassion and gave the same answer she’d been giving him every day since it happened.

“Theo, it’s not your fault. You weren’t the one who didn’t stop at a junction and drove into his car.”

“But I was the one who was supposed to be able to save him. I keep thinking of all the people I have saved over the years, but I couldn’t save my best friend.”

“You’re a surgeon, Theo, not God.”

He showed no signs of having heard her. “Maybe Trisha won’t want me at the funeral.”

“You’re his oldest friend. Michael loved you. Trisha loves you. She wants you at the funeral.” She hoped he wasn’t going to fall apart, and she hoped she wasn’t going to fall apart thinking of her father. She’d distract herself by making shopping lists in her head. Or maybe she’d think of fruits in alphabetical order. That was one of the tricks she used when her thoughts were spiraling out of control. Apple, banana, cantaloupe.

“I’m grateful to have you.” He crossed the room and hugged her, and she was so surprised that she didn’t move.

“We’ll get through it.” She leaned against him, breathing in the scent of him, feeling his arms tighten. And for a moment she felt less alone. She felt as if those arms were shielding her, as if he was standing between her and the emptiness that threatened to suck her down. Maybe he didn’t always say the right thing. Maybe he didn’t always do the right thing. But in this moment, she felt as if he cared. That was a start.

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