Page 36 of The Cost of Forgetting You

He releases me with one final shake. When he turns to stride toward the exit, I see Waylon waiting in the foyer of the church, silhouetted against the glass doors. Outside, a winter rainstorm has rolled in, painting the sky a slate gray. The two men clap each other’s backs by way of greeting. Waylon lifts an umbrella from the bucket by the door, expands it through an open door, then leads the way for Pastor Timothy. They disappear in the driving rain, turning left toward the parsonage.

I watch them go, all the while wondering if I’m the first person to ever feel this hopeless in a house of worship. And so impossibly alone.

January 17th, 1997

The day we bury my father, a freak snowstorm coats Fly Hollow in a thin dusting of white. The ground is hard beneath my feet. An impossible cold penetrates the layers of my jacket, jersey, and undershirt. It’s one of Dad’s, so it fits loosely over my slim frame. It smells like his aftershave. As I walk away from the casket—which sits poised over a gaping hole that feels impossibly small to hold such a large piece of my life—I dodge headstone after headstone. Each a testament to someone loved and lost.

It still feels inconceivable that my dad is among them.

My mother stays behind to talk to the pastor. Odette and my grandmother support each of Mom’s elbows, like she may collapse if not held up. And perhaps she would. It’s been a week since I held her in that hospital hallway, but the scent of antiseptic still burns my nose. Each night when I close my eyes, I feel the weight of my father’s hand in mine. Then the absence of it. It’s almost more than I can bear.

I round the old oak tree at the edge of the church cemetery, prepared to wait for my mom in the truck, and walk right into Lucy.

“Oof,” I grunt, stepping back with hands braced on her shoulders.

Her gray eyes mirror the snowy sky. They sweep over me as though checking me for injuries. Satisfied, she returns her gaze to mine. I blink against the shock of it. The difference from that night in my truck, the hopeful spark in her eyes when she gifted me her very first kiss, to the slicing sympathy that spills from them now. I want to erase it. Go back to that memory. Redo it all again and get a different result.

“Are you okay?” She touches her hand to my heart. “Who am I kidding? Of course you’re not okay. That was so stupid.” She steps closer till our exhales mingle in a cloud of condensation. “I’ve been so worried. Daddy was so angry, but I thought about what you said and you’re right. You can talk to him. We can talk to him, together. He’ll snap out of it. He has to. When the dust has settled a little bit, we can explain?—”

I throw my arms around her and pull her to me, crushing her small frame against my own larger one. She melts into me, safe in the knowledge that the large oak shields us from view of the funeral goers. And, more importantly, her father.

For the first time since this all happened, I allow myself to weep. Wholeheartedly, with total abandon. Sobs wrench through my chest, crack open my ribs. My stomach turns over like I’m going to be sick. Tears freeze on my cheeks. Through it all, Lucy holds me tightly. Strokes her hand over my back. Up and down, up and down. The way my mother did when I was small.

I don’t know how long we remain like that. But eventually the tears dry up and I right myself. I step away from Lucy, using my father’s jersey to clear my face. It’s only a matter of time till her father and my mother make their way out of the cemetery. I may not be able to help myself, but I can do this one thing for her. I won’t be the reason for any more pain in Lucy’s life.

“You have to go,” I whisper. “Your dad can’t see us together.”

She nods, casting a glance behind me. “We can talk at school. By summertime he’ll soften up. I’ll tell him this is what I want?—”

“We can’t.”

The crease between her eyebrows deepens. “What?”

How do I explain what’s happened in the past week? What’s changed within me? I’ve taken over for my mother. Grown up in the blink of an eye. I have to get a job, help pay the bills. I couldn’t give Lucy what she deserves even in the best of circumstances, but now? And with her father’s hatred weighing on top of it all? It will only hurt her in the end, and I’m not willing to let that happen.

I shake my head. “The two of us… It won’t work. It’ll never work.” Your dad will never accept me. I’m an absolute wreck. I have to take care of my mom when I’m not even sure how to take care of myself. Help me. Please. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”

All those unspoken words turn and tumble in my gut. They eat me alive. But I won’t let them out. Won’t make my problems hers to deal with. I can’t.

“I don’t understand.” She reaches for my hand, which hangs limply where she holds it. “I know you’re upset. I’m sorry for what happened. For getting you in trouble. For your dad…” Her voice trails off as she sucks in a wavering breath. “But you said we’d get through this. That you’d make Dad understand?—”

“That was before.” It rushes out of me unbidden. And from the way she flinches, I know it causes damage that I’ll never be able to repair.

She blinks back a fresh pool of tears. “I can be there for you. You just have to let me.”

Snow has gathered in her golden hair. A few flakes are caught in her lashes. I let my gaze sweep over her face. I gather the details—her flushed cheeks, her silken skin, those rosebud lips and the memory of their warmth against mine—and I stow them away for safekeeping. It’s the closest I’ll ever get again. For her sake, even if it kills me inside.

“I have to go.” I place a kiss on her forehead. And perhaps it’s a mistake, but it’s the only weakness I’ll allow myself in all of this. I swear it on my father’s grave. The proximity of which presses in on my lungs, making it hard to take my next breath. Next step. Each of which takes me farther away from Lucy and the life I wish I could have if circumstances were different.

“Henry?” Lucy cries.

I don’t turn back. I don’t let myself react. I just keep moving, head down, toward the truck.

Chapter Twelve

Delilah

Me

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