Page 12 of What I've Tasted of Desire

“From the moment James laid eyes on Meg on the first day of our sophomore year, something just clicked. It was like he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt he’d found his person.” He let out a somber chuckle. “I can still see the two of them locking eyes from across the hall and James marching straight up to her. The memory feels like a movie scene. He said, "Hello, my name is James Vasquez, and I think I’d like to marry you one day.’’’

“They were inseparable from that day forward. James and Megan made me believe in soulmates. That God sends that one special person to us—we just have to be lucky enough to recognize it and hold on tight. Anyone who knew the two of them would no doubt tell you that they would be together for the rest of their lives… and they were.”

My focus faded in and out as the pastor spoke, my brain vacillating between waves of overwhelming emotion and moments of oblivious numbness. I glanced around the room of misty eyes and hushed sniffles, all these people weeping for my parents and the love story that could have been ripped right off the silver screen. A modern day Romeo and Juliet… but where did that leave me?

My parents had only recently died, but they’d been gone for a long time. My mother became a shell of the woman she used to be, and I’d lost my father to the pub. I had already started to come to terms with the fact that my father was not strong enough to face the reality of what was happening when he blew his head off, which only cemented the fact.

Oh, sure, he was losing the love of his life, but his son was also losing his mother. He never seemed to be able to connect the two.

My father coming home and shooting himself in the next room was the most shocking thing that had ever happened to me. But was I surprised? No.

I tried my best to tamp down the resentment fermenting in my gut. I wasn’t even an afterthought.

What will Gabe do with both of his parents gone? Dad had never stopped to think about that.a

I guess that wasn’t entirely true. He’d at least kept up with the life insurance premiums. I was surprised to find out that I would be receiving both of their insurance policies. I knew about Mom’s, but I thought I had heard somewhere that insurers don’t pay out if you kill yourself. I was wrong.

The insurance adjuster explained that there was a suicide clause, but Dad had the policy for nearly 20 years, and the clause had well expired. My father had always been a frugal man. We lived comfortably, but still well below our means. Our family home was in an okay neighborhood… not the best, but not the worst. Our home was nice, and I always felt like I had everything I needed. Between the life insurance policies and dad’s investments, I now had a little over four million dollars at my disposal, plus the house. The very definition of “cold comfort.”

I waded through the flurry of hugs and well-wishes as everyone filed out of the church, coworkers and long-time acquaintances promising to keep in touch, and making me promise to call if I needed anything. The problem was, I had no clue what I needed.

My identity had changed so much, so quickly. I was an orphan, now. Could you be considered an orphan at age 20? Was there a limit on the term? Thanks to my father’s shrewd financial mindset, I had simultaneously become a millionaire.

I could walk right out of this church and go wherever I wanted. I had no employer to report to, and I’d already been unenrolled from school. I was as free as I could be, but the only place I wanted to go was back to bed.

Once the church had completely emptied out, I thanked Father McKinnley one last time as the undertakers were coming in to remove the bodies and take them to the crematorium.

“Um, can I just have a minute, please?” I asked them.

The men nodded and backed away. Father McKinnley put his hand on my shoulder as he walked past.

“Take as much time as you need, son.” He offered a tight-lipped smile as he backed out of the small church, pulling the door closed behind him.

I swallowed hard and wiped my sweaty palms down the sides of my slacks. It was just the three of us. It was how it had been my entire life: Mom, Dad, and me. I stared down at the long red carpet that ran up the aisle between the pews. I wasn’t ready to look up yet. I wasn’t ready to face them for the last time.

I wasn’t ready to walk up to those caskets and tell them that I loved them, or to tell them how much I’m going to miss them. I wasn’t ready for this to be the last time I was in the same room with my parents.

There was still a voice inside my head that screamed, “Wake up! This isn’t real! It’s all just a dream!” I wasn’t ready for that voice to die. And when I walked up to those caskets, it would.

I took a shaky breath, wiping my cheeks with the sleeves of my suit jacket, and took a step. And then another. I chewed my bottom lip as I approached the front of the church.

The caskets were a matching ivory, and had been positioned opposite each other, the pulpit recessed back between them. I walked up between them and placed a hand on each one. The caskets were closed, but I knew Mom was on the left, and Dad on the right.

“I, uh… I’m still trying to wrap my head around ho-how we got to this moment,” I said, a low sob interrupting the words. I swallowed hard and leaned more of my weight to the left. “You were the best mom ever. I was so lucky to have such a loving, accepting, and kind person be my mom. You were so supportive and kind when I came out. A lot of kids aren’t that lucky.”

I wiped my eyes again, and sniffled. “I don’t know if love can help you wherever you are, but I’ll love you forever, Mama.”

I turned towards my father’s casket. “God, I’m so fucking angry at you. You didn’t even ask me if I was okay. I had just watched my mother take her last breath, and I sat alone in that house for hours waiting for you to come home. You couldn’t even be bothered to put your arms around me one last time before you walked into the other room, blew your brains out, and left me here to clean up the mess.” My hands balled into fists. “It would have been hard, but we could have gotten past losing her, together.”

I stuffed my knuckles into my mouth and bit down to stop myself from screaming. I was starting to get light-headed. I turned away from the caskets, staring at the closed church door. “Take care of her, Dad. I know that’s all you ever cared about.”

I didn’t look back again as I made my way back down the narrow aisle and out of the church.

***

I drove around the block a few times, aimless in journey, as my mind raced a thousand miles a minute. It was finished; the funeral was over. There was no one to take care of and worry over anymore. The same pestering question was ever present at the forefront of my mind…

What now?

---