Page 93 of Four Weekends and a Funeral

“No,” Adam assures him. “Please don’t worry about that.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than I anticipated. These things take time.”

“But these are things we can give you both now. They’re from Sam.” Mrs.Lewis’s clasped hands shake as she speaks. I think I’m shaking too.

Rachel looks confused. It twists my stomach even more.

Mrs.Lewis hands Adam an envelope. “That’s your Christmas gift from Sam. His phone had a calendar alert this morning. He wanted Rachel to make arrangements while she was here for the party.”

“A calendar alert?” I ask, just as Adam says, “What arrangements?”

He opens it carefully, reverently, aware it’s a message from beyond, something every other person in the room is desperate for. He unfolds a piece of printed paper. “A plane ticket?”

“To Chile,” Rachel explains to him. “A week before he—we switched your name on the ticket for…” We trade glances. “Someone who could no longer go. He was going to invite you. He said he wanted to ‘shake things up’ for you.”

Mrs.Lewis claps her hands together and smiles through tears, the thought of her son, his gift, and a trip he’ll never go on eliciting warring emotions. Adam hasn’t taken his eyes off the ticket.

“Alison.” Mrs.Lewis faces me. “I don’t know what Sam had planned for you for Christmas, but I have something I can give on his behalf. It’s technically mine. It’s a family heirloom—”

Rachel grabs her mother’s arm. “Mom, you shouldn’t…”

“You don’t have to…,” I say. Neither of us has any idea how to stop this speeding train.

Mrs.Lewis shakes her arm free. “Rachel! Please. This was for Sam to give to the woman he loved when he settled down and got serious about his life.”

“He was serious about his life. He was serious about living it.” Rachel’s voice cracks.

Sensing the impending crash, Adam takes my hand. I think I take his too, but I’m not sure. I’m frozen in place. My limbs are too heavy to move.

I feel the blood coursing through my body even before she reveals a silver pendant I remember her wearing at the funeral.

“It was my grandmother’s,” Mrs.Lewis continues. “I always knew he would give it to the woman he chose. I wish he could have given this to you himself…”

Mrs.Lewis is trying to smile through her tears as she removes the necklace from the box. I can see her holding it up to my neck, but my vision is pulsing.

Dr.Lewis is confused.

The light is flickering out behind Adam’s eyes.

Rachel is trying to pull the necklace away from her mother.

I observe every movement as both immediate and delayed as their arguments fade beneath the sound of my thunderous heartbeat.

My limbs are stiff. My hands are shaking. My chest feels like it’s being pulled tightly together and zipped up. The rock of guilt presses against my lungs as my breaths become too thick. Too heavy.

“It wasn’t supposed to go on this long. You were supposed to forget about her,” Rachel shouts, shoving a hand through her perfectly tousled blond waves.

“They didn’t,” I hear my voice say.

Adam squeezes my hand. “Take a breath, Ali. Please.”

“I was just trying to help you. And him. I wanted you to be proud of him. He deserved that,” Rachel cries.

Now I’m crying.

“What is she talking about?” Dr.Lewis presses.

Everyone’s looking at me. My throat tightens like hot fingers gripping my neck. “I’m sorry. I can’t accept this.” But I can’t make myself move my trembling hands. I feel a familiar touch guide me to the floor.

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