Page 74 of Only Mostly Devastated

Was she trying to comfort me? Because the tone of her voice was so pleading, it seemed more like she wanted me to tell her that yes, all of that was true, and this definitely wasn’t the worst day any of us had ever lived through.

I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Okay.”

We sat in silence. I felt like we should be hugging each other, or sobbing or something, but I didn’t feel like crying. I didn’t feel anything except stunned. What were we supposed to do now? Seriously, what? Did we go around to Uncle Roy’s and comfort him? He probably didn’t want us there right now. Not just yet. So, what, did we talk about our favorite memories of Aunt Linda? Oh, God, no,memories, all we had werememoriesnow. That didn’t feel real yet, though. It was like it was happening to someone else.

Okay, so, then, what? Did we just… turn on the TV? Do the dishes? Take showers? Did I do my homework? None of it felt right.

I waited for my parents to direct the next steps.

But maybe they didn’t know what to do now, either.

It was too hard to look at my parents’ stricken faces, so I picked at a hangnail instead. Was it bad that I didn’t feel sad? Did that mean there was something wrong with me?

Maybe I was like the main character fromDexter.Like, maybe I was immune to death and pain, and I could theoretically spend the rest of my life killing people who I thought objectively deserved to die, and I’d never be even a little damaged by any of it.

Mom stood up first. “I’m going to call Grandma and Grandpa again,” she said.

By that, she meant Dad’s parents. Her parents had passed away when I was little. They’d had Mom when they were super old, like, almost forty.

Which meant that out of her whole family, Mom was the only one left now.

Mom pulled down her blouse and left the room. She was still wearing her work outfit. Usually when you think of grieving people, they’re in their pajamas, and maybe a dressing gown, and their faces are red and blotchy. Mom’s face was blotchy, but outside of that, she could run a board meeting now and she wouldn’t seem out of place.

Dad, too. Even more so, because it didn’t look like he’d been crying, either. No red spots in sight.

“Is there anything nice you’d like for dinner?” he asked.

“Pardon?”

“We won’t be cooking tonight, but you can pick. We’ll get anything you want. Takeout,” he added as an afterthought.

“Um…”

“Have a think about it.” He got up, too, then. “Are you all right?”

No. Yes. No. “… Yeah.”

“Great. I’m just going to sort some things out upstairs. Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

With that, he escaped, too.

Now it was just me, and the living room, and an enormous, deafening silence.

I should probably call someone, I guessed. My first thought was Ryan or Hayley, but I hadn’t talked to them that much lately. It’s not that we had a problem with each other, we’d just kind of drifted.

Lara and I didn’t have that kind of friendship. Same with Niamh.

I could call Juliette, but she’d been so down lately, it didn’t feel fair to load her up with all my problems. Besides, she’d probably overcompensate by being super perky, or taking me out for ice cream or something, and I didn’t want perkiness, or ice cream. Or sympathy.

What did I want, then? It’s not like I could call someone and they’d wave a wand so Aunt Linda wasn’t dead anymore. And that’s the only thing that could really help right now.

Mom trotted downstairs with a USB, and plugged it into the TV.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She sat herself down next to me and grabbed the remote. “We’re going to remember some of the good times.”

That didnotmean what I think it did, right? “Mom…”

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