Page 32 of Right in Front of You

CARTER, AGE 20

I staredat the black square box they were lowering into the ground, wondering what was inside. Normally a casket had a body, but not this one. Not Nick’s, because his body had never been found. Jo’s fiancé and Mackenzie’s father, who didn’t even know he had a child, had given his life for our freedom.

A small hand ruffled through my hair. I twisted Mac in my arms and tapped her little nose with my finger.

“How are you doing, Mac?”

She smiled at me and replied in gibberish, then added “Okay,” at the end. It was her new favorite word.

“Your daddy was a hero, you know that? And your uncle’s going to make sure you never forget him.”

It was only a week ago that we’d celebrated Mac’s first birthday. Jo had been looking forward to Nick’s return next month; instead, she received a visit from two police officers carrying a folded American flag.

“Okay.”

Jo was sitting on a chair, completely still. She had no more tears to shed, and despite the glowing tan she’d been sporting last week, today she looked pale and catatonic. Jo hadn’t spoken since she’d collapsed on the living room floor. I hadn’t seen her blink or breathe either, although I was pretty sure that was impossible.

She was dying on the inside, and my heart ached for her, wishing I could ease her anguish. When I looked at her, the pain reflected in her eyes was my own. The distress her body showed resembled mine after Daisy passed. Except we had never had the chance to share a child.

I understood what she was going through. I knew how much she was hurting, and I felt her heartache. I knew what it was like to have no tears left, to feel empty on the inside, lost and without hope. Every single fiber in her body must have felt like it was torn away from bone and ligament. And the worst part was that Nick hadn’t even known that he had this amazing little girl, whose tiny hand rested on my cheek, waiting.

My heart squeezed, and I turned toward her palm, kissing it.

“Dada.” Mac pointed to the casket.

“Yeah, that’s your daddy’s resting place now, Mac. He’s in heaven, looking over you. Always,” I whispered in her ear, and kissed her gently on her cheek, wondering how much she’d miss out in life by not having a father. That hug he’d give her when she learned to ride a bike, all the high fives they’d share after she swung a baseball bat and hit the ball, evenings by the outdoor fireplace counting the falling stars or watching satellites slowly sail across the night sky – they’d never happen. He’d never teach her how to skip stones, either.

Jo and Nick liked to watch the stars and skip stones.

I made a mental note to take Mac to the beach more often, and let go of a heavy breath.

Nick wouldn’t be there to celebrate any of Mac’s milestones, ward off boys with tattoos, and one day walk her as a beautiful bride down the aisle. But then again, there were fathers not worthy of the name, like Molly’s. Fathers who looked at their daughters worse than they’d look at cattle. I’d seen it many times. It was a good thing he was away this summer. I had a feeling if he weren’t, Molly would have never come back to Hope Bay.

She sat beside Jo, holding our friend’s hand. I caught her stealing a glance my way a few times. Her eyes were sad and full of compassion for Jo and her family.

The leaves ruffled above us as Mac slid off me to place a single rose on the casket.

Jo still didn’t move.

Not even when Mac did the unthinkable – knelt near the opening and kissed the wood. She then waved her hand, saying, “Bye, Dada.”

Her first small sentence.

Jo still didn’t move. I wasn’t an expert, but I was beginning to believe that my friend would be lost there for a while.

The mood at the wake wasn’t any better. Jo sat like a mannequin in an arm chair, her hands resting on the sides. I was pretty sure she got up to go to the bathroom once, and then just came back and sat in the same chair.

“This is not good.” Molly came to my side.

“No, it’s not. I’m not sure she’ll be able to get past this.”

“You did.”

“No, I didn’t. Not yet. It gets a little better over time, but you have to learn how to live all over again. You lose all faith, all optimism, all strength, both physical and emotional. You go through phases, and if you’re lucky, each one will be a little easier to cope with. First, you pretend that you didn’t lose the closest person you had in life. Coming back from something like that is not simple. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if it hadn’t been for you. I’ll make it my job to make sure that after a few months, this moment will be in the past, and Jo will begin to realize that she needs to look to the future.”

“Carter, I’m—”

“It’s okay. I mean, she has Mac, right? She’ll be okay with our help.”

---