Page 109 of Reclaiming Adelaide

“Likewise.” I nodded.

“I’m going to find my—”

“Addy. Oh my God. Addy.” Monica rushed forward, squeezing Mable out of the way, and wrapped her arms around Adelaide’s neck as she rocked her side to side. “Where have you been? What did you do to your hair…”

“Who is that?” Becca whispered as Monica blasted her with question after question, drawing irritation right up to my tightened collar.

“Her best friend.”

“Gotcha. This is a huge turnout.”

I nodded. “They were honest people.” I rubbed my freshly shaved jaw and pressed my hand into Adelaide’s back. “Let’s go find our seats. The pastor is taking the podium.”

Adelaide nodded and wiped her eyes with her tissue, smiling as her friend’s mouth ran a million miles a minute. I’d stop her if it weren’t for the rare smile she’d put on Adelaide’s face.

“I’m going to sit,” Monica said, sympathy drawing her brows into a wrinkle between her eyes. “We’ll catch up after. Okay?”

Adelaide’s feet stopped moving at the doorway, the vacant aisle giving her a wide view of the double caskets at the front.

“I can’t go in there.”

And just like that, the joy she’d had from seeing her friend died on her lips. She stiffened her spine as I pressed her forward. “I can’t see them like that.” She shook her head, tears drizzling down her freckled cheeks. “I just can’t.”

She spun, attempting to escape, but I held her firm and brought her to the entrance. “You can, and you will.” I pressed my lips to her cheek, her salty tears spreading across my tongue as I licked them from my bottom lip. “Look at me, sweets.”

I took her wet, tear-stained face into my hands and forced her gaze to mine. “You are a strong, brave woman, and although this may seem impossible and like your life is ending, it’s not. You can do this. Take one step at a time and put your parents to rest.” I wiped the solitary tear that fell with my thumb as she nodded. “Today is the day to say goodbye, ask for forgiveness if you feel the need, and tell them how much you love them. Give yourself what I wish I could.” I pressed my lips to her forehead, circled my arms around her shoulders, and drew her into me. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Adelaide sniffled as she nodded, bringing the tissue to her nose as she hugged me tight and then pulled away. “Okay.”

“You can do this, Adelaide,” Becca said, startling me.

I’d nearly forgotten her standing beside us, soaking in the scene. When Adelaide cried, it drowned out the world around us until only she and I stood together. No one else existed at that moment in time.

I could’ve told her pretty lies and let her believe this would be easy, but the result would be the same. I’d be on my knees picking up her broken pieces as she wandered around our home like a decaying porcelain doll.

She took two steps forward and breached the church’s opened doors towards the two oak caskets waiting in the front, her shoulders shaking as her head hung.

I swallowed through a tightness forming in my throat as I imagined my parents ahead, not hers.

This may be harder than I thought.

33

Aheavydizzinessformedin my temples as I took a step, then another, and another. My limbs tingled as my heart throbbed in my chest. My parents’ closed caskets sat before me with an array of flowers that were all wrong.

Those weren’t her favorites. They were dark, with tight roses twisted together to form a wreath of sorts. She would’ve wanted something yellow to make people happy.

My father hated flowers. He said they were weeds that took away from the beauty of his green lawn.

Daddy would’ve never approved of such a thing.

People lined the pews, their weeping sniffles echoed around the chamber, their swollen gazes fixed upon me as I walked down the aisle.

This was all wrong.

“This seat, sweets.”

Jake’s hand pressed into my back, pushing me towards the front pew from the center of the aisle just before I reached out to touch the shining glossy wood.

---