Page 24 of And Then Came You

“You don’t. You never have.”

“I never will. You’re my dear friend. Friends love each other and lift each other up when the weight of the world makes it feel like you’ll collapse. Lean on me. I’ll hold you up until you can stand on your own again.”

Sam grabs me against him, his embrace so tight I fear he might crush my ribcage. But I stay silent, sending loving energy to my friend and praying he can feel anything beyond the searing pain of his loss. “I love you, Lexi.”

“I love you, too.”

He pulls back, wiping at his nose and eyes. If it was me crying, my face would be a mottled mess. His? All elegant and chiseled lines, his eyes even brighter because of the tears. “You do, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Love me. You’re not just saying that, telling me what I want to hear.”

How sad that someone has to seek reassurance about love. Even more sad is that I require that same reassurance. “I’ll believe in you all my life, every day. E.T., I love you.”

Sam’s face screws up in confusion before splitting into a grin. “Did you quote from the movie, E.T.?”

I nod, chuckling at his horrified expression. I realize it’s a cheesy 80s flick, but I adore the movie. It’s one of my few positive memories during my early childhood, as my mother battled failing health and my father battled his recurrent drug addiction. That movie, played on repeat after my older cousin donated it to me, made me laugh. Made me cry. Made me feel.

“I most certainly did, and I’ll do it again. I’ve got the entire movie memorized.”

“I thought you were cool. But, you really are a nerd, Lexi McMillan.”

I put my hand to my chest, gasping in fake horror. “Take that back, Samuel Bernard, or I won’t be your friend anymore.”

Sam jumps to his feet, pulling me up. “You better promise to always be my friend.”

“It’s a deal.” Linking hands, we walk toward the garden, where the ceremony is being held. Curtis held sway in this small mountain town and the turnout is impressive.

Unfortunately for me, the myriad of people is also making my skin crawl and palms sweat.

Curtis had a request, after I sang him a few Etta James songs. He asked me to sing for him at his funeral. I agreed, figuring that I had years for us both to forget my promise.

I had a week.

Now, I have a promise to fulfill and a most awful bout of stage fright.

Sam shoots me a curious look. “Are you okay?”

I nod, although I’m feeling far from fine. In fact, I feel green about the gills. Sam and I take a seat in the front row, next to his Mom, his hand firmly locked around mine.

Apparently running away is not an option.

Thanks, Curtis. I know you’re having a hoot and a half at my expense.

After some words, the preacher calls my name, and Sam’s eyes widen, a grin splitting his tear-stained face. In that instant, I know I can’t let him down.

So, I don’t. I take the microphone and with barely a tremor, sing Curtis’s song of choice. Smile. My voice never wavers. Neither does my gaze, as it holds Sam’s fast.

When I finish, there’s not a dry eye in the house, including mine. I barely make it through the last line, but I can feel Curtis next to me, cheering me on. Just like his grandson, he always believed in me.

Now, it’s my turn to carry on the love he gave to Sam every day, no matter the distance between them. It’s a job I’m happy to undertake.

Fakira grasps my hand as I take my seat, her eyes bright with tears. “You have the most lovely voice.”

“Years of musical theater.”

Sam’s gaze is intent on me as he grasps my hand once more, and I can’t help but notice how warm his skin feels against mine. How reassuring in such an uncertain world. “Why didn’t you pursue a career in music?”

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