Page 52 of About Time

I realize how crazy it sounds, but I know that was them telling me they’re okay. I’d love to say I commit to memory everything Wren is saying, but I’m barely hanging on. If I let her pain in to mingle with mine I’m not sure I’ll make it through this. The hall fills with the occasional sniffle as Wren’s words of love reach their ears.

When it’s my turn, I take her place at the lectern. I prepared a whole speech last night, but the words swim on the page in front of me. My breath shudders in and out while I try to center myself enough to make it through the next few minutes.

“Grief is a sign that there was once someone to love. In front of me lie two people who inspired a lot of love. Don’t be sorry for them though. They are moving along to their next adventure the way they did everything for the last twenty-two-years, together. It’s the rest of us who deserve pity. We’re the ones who were living in a world of color and woke up to black and white.

“The only thing we can do is to follow their example. We must wake up each day and fill it with the magnitude of our personality the way Martin always did. We need to set our sights on the important things. Family, friends, and the one we love is to be cherished above a promotion or profits.”

I take a second to look at Charlie. He needs to hear these words, and I don’t think I’ll ever have the strength to say them again without feeling like my sister is still here with me. “We can search the world for the path we think will bring the most glory. We can chase after success and what we think we shouldwant, but don’t wander so far you get lost. Know that it’s okay to choose the simple life and make it big with love.”

“Elisa knew what she wanted, and she never felt any shame for it. She loved Martin with every molecule of her soul. It’s that love that built Wren. Their love was infectious. It made everyone feel like they could do more, be more, and reach for it. Not for a moment did she regret not going to college, or pursuing a career. She knew it wasn’t the path for everyone, but it was for her.”

I have to blink away the tears that are trying to spill. Not now. I can’t lose it right here. This part of my grief is private and I don’t want to cheapen it by sharing it here. Not for them to dissect at a later date.

“My God, Martin loved my sister. I’ve heard the talk about the cursed Reynold girls. I guess now it’s the cursed Parker girls since I took Martin’s name when they took me in after my mom died. Life is really unfair, you’re all right about the fact that we know that better than anyone. I’ve got one person left in this world.”

Wren catches my eyes and we silently send each other strength. I nod when I’m ready to dive back into my speech. I look down at the closed caskets of the two people who have always been my shelter in the storm of life.

“If you need any further proof that life isn’t fair all you have to do is look at the closed caskets in front of us. The two people who had the most to give, and their time was cut too short to give it. There’s not a person in this town that hasn’t been impacted by them. We are the ones who are both better and worse off for having known them. We will always be better people as long as we follow their examples, but we’re worse off because now we know what life was like with them in it and we have to keep going now that they’re gone. Be sorry for the living, because the hole left behind is wide and deep. Grief is for the living because it is us who will suffer their loss. Don’t be sorry for Elisa and Martin.They lived big and left without regrets. They did everything right the first time.”

Directing my next statement to Elisa and Martin I say, “I promise you both that from this moment forward I will chase the right things. I’ll remember to live a big life, and not confuse that with having to impress people. I might not get to see you for a while, but I’ll carry you with me. So I’m not saying goodbye to you, big sis. Let’s just say until later, and in the meantime, make sure to check your messages.”

Wren chokes out a laugh. Both of us have been on the receiving end of Elisa texting us to check our messages like we didn’t get an alert for a voicemail. I know it won’t be the same, but I talk to my sister every day, and that won’t stop just because I have to wait to check the messages she leaves for me.

On my way back to join Wren I put my hands on their caskets, and bow my head. I know that they aren’t in there anymore. The only thing left is the part that tethers us to this world, but having faith is hard when life keeps testing it. But for Elisa, I’ll keep believing. The alternative is that she’s just gone, and I can’t accept that.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hattie Past- Age 26

The house is teemingwith people. So many I have to take refuge in the backyard to avoid all the sympathy. Every minute inside, Wren and I are under a microscope. All those eyes studying us, trying to gauge if we’re sad enough, and cataloging our every move to discuss ad nauseam in line at the pharmacy for the next week.

After shaking too many hands, and accepting too many thoughts and prayers, I’m completely spent. My soul is crying because I am unable to start grieving with all of these people here watching like I’m some kind of exhibit. It’s laughable because they’re the ones putting on the show with their performative grief.

Right now they’re all inside talking over each other trying to see who has the best story about Elisa and Martin. I think they get bonus points if they make each other cry. I don’t need to share my sadness with the town for it to be real. I’ll feel this long after they’ve moved on with their lives. I don’t fault them for that either. It’s the way the world works. There’s only so much room to hurt, you can’t hold on to other people’s pain indefinitely.

I lean back on my elbows. The top of the picnic table is smooth with years of use. The night is still warm, with a heavy blanket of humidity pressing down on me. Fireflies dance on the edges of the yard. It’s like any other night. If I close my eyes I can pretend the voices I hear aren’t people here for the funeral, but that it’s just another one of the barbecues Martin loved to throw.

I sit like that for several minutes. I’m in no rush to go back inside and comfort others. I know we’re all mourning Elisa and Martin. They have been such big parts of this community, that their loss will be felt here for months, or even years. For me though, I’m going to feel this hole for the rest of my life. It’s not the same. I’m tired of pretending that we’re all grieving. They’re sad, while I’m devastated.

The wood creaks and I feel the table shift a little under me as someone joins me. I swallow a groan and try to channel my sister. She was the consummate hostess. I will never come close to having her social grace.

“Hiding, Doll?”

Hearing Charlie’s gravelly voice makes me crack open my eyes. “I’m tired of the town trying to outdo each other to see who is the saddest.”

He sits with his legs spread and his forearms resting on his thickly muscled thighs. It’s really not fair that he gets better-looking the older he gets. I know thirty-six isn’t old, but at some point, he needs to start looking cragged or something to let my heart have a break. Seeing how close Wren is to Liam Hale, I don’t think it would be fair for me to pack her up and move her to Florida. She’s lost enough. Anything more would send her over the edge. Which means Charlie is going to be around. Liam is his godson after all.

Coming back here doesn’t change shit, unfortunately. I’m still just as weak where he’s concerned as I was at nineteen. I’d like to say if he starts issuing demands that I’d turn him down insome dramatic fashion, but I’m not exactly at the top of my game right now.

“What can I do to help you?” There’s a lot of sincerity in his voice, and I know he’s hurting as well. Charlie feels a lot more than he’s given credit for, just not enough to make a relationship stick.

I look back up to the stars and speak as if casting a wish up to the heavens. “Can you distract me? What I want most of all is to stop thinking for a while.”

He chews his lip, and I can see he’s conflicted about something. “No new tricks, only old ones.”

I bolt upright and gawk at him with my mouth hanging open. Part of me wants to rail at him for the past, the present, and where we could have been if he hadn’t broken us. Too many emotions and thoughts race through my body at the same time, far too many for me to say anything coherent. It takes me a moment before I can put them in any kind of order that makes sense.

“Not that it isn’t intriguing, but it’s not a great idea. We tried the whole casual thing last time and it didn’t work then, and I don’t think the last six years changed that.”

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