Page 1 of Keepsake

Ilookeddownatthe dirt covered grave with a whimper lodged in my throat.

I wasn’t the first person to stand in front of a grave and blame the world for its injustice, but today I felt like the only one. I swallowed something reminiscent of gravel. My eyes stung with unshed tears. I read her name over and over again, waiting for the new reality to sink in.

Sofiaisdead, I told myself.

The rest of us could go ahead and wander aimlessly through life. She wasn’t coming back.

This time the tears fell, the whimper was freed, and I was left there alone, staring at the grave where they buried my best friend.

Ifelttheurgeto say I hated funerals, but everyone hated them.

I grabbed a cup of soda, desperately trying to find something to do with my hands as I strolled around the house.

No one stopped me. I didn’t know many people, and the ones I knew probably didn’t remember me after all these years. It felt weird to be at a funeral when I didn’t know anyone but the deceased. Funerals were for the living, after all.

Tired, I slumped on the couch and held the soda with both hands. With my eyes fixed on the wall, I almost missed the small body landing beside mine on the couch.

I spotted the dangling feet first. Pink sequin sneakers with vibrant yellow laces. My gaze went up to her face, watching me with curiosity. She had long brown hair and a pink hairband with a tiny bow on top. Whatever she was wearing wasn’t funeral appropriate. It was awfully colorful. But I was glad she wasn’t wearing black. She was just a little girl.

“I know you,” she told me.

My eyebrows rose. “Do you?”

She nodded. “You’re the one with mommy in that picture.” I followed her finger and sure enough, right on top of the mantel, I spotted a picture of me and Sofia about sixteen years ago. We were grinning at the camera, my arm over her shoulders while she munched on gummy bears.

It was the day we found out she was pregnant. It was a revelation scary enough to shake us to our very core, but I didn’t want her panicking. Well, not until it was time to panic, so I bought a shitload of candy, and we got drunk on sugar.

I forgot about that day, Sofia didn’t. As my gaze left the picture, it found Dashiell walking around with a deep frown on his forehead. Lanky and taller than any fifteen-year-old ought to be, I wondered if he knew he was—in a way—in the mantel picture too.

My eyes were still glued to him when he caught me sitting next to his sister. His frown was now clearly directed at me. I held my breath as he turned to Vienna. “What are you doing?” he barked, flashing me a look and then turning back at her.

“I’m sitting with mommy’s friend,” Vienna replied. “She’s the one in the picture, see?”

Dashiell didn’t turn to look at the picture, even though his sister pointed to it behind him. But he looked right at me, his eyes narrowing.

I shrugged apologetically. “I was about your age when we took that picture. I have no idea how she recognized me.”

It felt like a victory when Dashiell turned to check out the photo. Deciding neither I nor Vienna were lying, I got a stiff nod from him. My heart skipped a beat. He was too serious for a fifteen-year-old. Too protective, too suspicious. Those weren’t qualities people were born with, but rather earned through suffering.

The last time I saw Dashiell, he was still a small child with bright eyes like his mother.

“You went to school with mommy.” Vienna’s voice brought me back again.

I smiled at her. “My whole life.”

“That’s super best friends,” Vienna said.

“I think that’s true,” I agreed.

“If they were such great friends, how come you don’t even know her, Vi?” Dashiell scoffed.

My smile fell into a hard line. He wasn’t wrong, but I also knew he was not lashing out because of the true reality of my friendship. It was because his mother was dead. It sliced through me every time I thought about it.

Sofia was dead.

She left children behind. There was an eight-year-old girl with pink sneakers grieving just by my side, and my brain couldn’t even understand that kind of pain.

Dashiell was right. I never deserved the title of Sofia’s super best friend, but I would have liked to have it anyway for the years of gummy bear consumption and rom-com watching. I wished someone would have told me it was going be my last moments with my best friend. I wish I treasured those moments at the time.

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