Page 33 of Waiting for Sunshine

“They passed away the day I graduated high school.” My heart aches for her instantly. I know the pain that accompanies loss. The fact that she had to endure it so young, simply isn’t fair.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I reassure her. She nods her head a little. I walk over to her and lift her chin, bringing her eyes to meet mine.

“But if you want to talk, if youneedto talk about it, I am here.”

Her lip starts to quiver and she squeezes her eyes shut, causing the tears that fill her eyes to fall freely down her cheeks. I wipe them with the pad of my thumb and she pushes out a breath.

“I’m sorry, I probably look so crazy right now.” She says as she turns her head away from me. She takes a couple of steps in the opposite direction, but I follow quickly behind. I grab her arm and bring her attention back to me.

“You don’t look crazy. You look like you’re in pain. Don’t feel like you have to hide that from me though. Not ever.” My voice is firm, so she knows I mean it. She nods her head and then takes a deep breath.

“Thank you. It’s just really hard to talk about, most people don’t understand it so I don’t see the point.” Her voice is shaky. “What about you? Are you close to your parents?”

“My dad left us when I was too young to remember, but my mom and I were always close,” I answer truthfully.

“But not anymore?” she asks. One simple question, followed by one simple admission, drives me to do something I never thought I’d do.

“Will you go somewhere with me?” I ask.

She tilts her head in confusion but nods in agreement anyway. I finish closing down the bar and lock up, then we hop in my truck with Riley. The ride is quiet, and Shane never asks where we are going. It’s not a long ride, but when we pull up Shane’s head turns to me and her brows pull together. My headlights shine brightly on the sign in front of us.

Willowpointe Cemetery.

“Um, not to sound worried or dramatic, but why did you bring me to a cemetery?” Shane asks.

“Come with me.” I laugh. I’ll let her wonder, just a few minutes longer. She stays unmoving when I open my door, so I bend down to look at her.

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

“Of course.” She retorts.

“Let’s go then.” I nod. Riley jumps out of the truck, then Shane slides out behind her. I shut the driver door and take her hand to lead the way. It makes my whole chest warm just having her hand in mine. We walk for a few minutes before coming to a stop.

I shine the flashlight that I’d held in my jacket pocket to illuminate the writing.

Cecelia May Mullins. Beloved Mother. 1956 - 2012

“Max…” she whispers, her eyes coming up to meet mine.

I can feel the emotion creeping up my throat again. Something I suppress 364 days of the year, when it does make its way out, it comes with vengeance. Which is why I choose to be alone when it does.

Until tonight, apparently.

“I just wanted you to know, I understand the pain of loss. I lost my mom, who was my fucking hero, to cancer ten years ago. Then we lost Red during our last mission six years ago. They died on the same day, just years apart. That shit hurt, and it’s affected me more than most people know. It’s why I don’t let people in. I have lost too much in life to set myself up for it again.” I explain, hoping she realizes how much I am admitting to her through the words.

Shane studies me. But she doesn’t ask about their deaths. She doesn’t press me for more information. She just looks at me with those caring eyes, understanding that I just let her into a part of my life that not many others get to see. She takes a deep breath, looking down at my mom’s headstone. Then she tells me the story:

“It was just me and my parents growing up. I didn’t have any siblings or anything, so we were always really close. On the day of my high school graduation, I asked my parents if I could go to an after-graduation party. Some of the other kids in our class wanted to have one last hoorah before we all went off to different colleges. Taylor and I were going to ride together, and I would meet my parents for dinner later on. We were going to be planning our summer trip to San Francisco that night. I was going to be attending college there in the fall, so we wanted to go see where we would hang out when they would come to visit me, and they wanted me to get better acquainted with the area before I officially moved there.

“When my mom texted me that night telling me they were heading to the restaurant I said my goodbyes to all of my friends and headed to meet them. On my way there I got stuck in traffic for like 30 minutes. A tanker truck had flipped over on the highway, so only one lane was open for traffic. I called my mom to let her know I would be late, but she didn’t answer so I left her a voicemail.

“When I finally got up to where the truck had flipped, I realized it hadn’t just flipped, but had flipped onto another vehicle. I soon understood why my mom hadn’t answered the phone. It was their car the truck had flipped onto.” Tears pour down her face, but she never once tries to wipe them. I remain silent so she can go on.

“Everything that happened next was a slow-motioned blur. Before I knew it I was sprinting from my Jeep over to the caution tape surrounding the scene. I was screaming, trying to let the police know that those were my parents and I needed to get to them. They needed me and I couldn’t get to them. I guess at some point in the midst of it all I called Taylor. She and her parents met me at the hospital, but by the time we got there, it was too late. They were already gone before they ever made it to the emergency room.” She blinks and more tears fall.

She sniffles and wipes her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She goes to turn her head away from me again, but before she has the chance, I pull her into me. I know loss and the pain that comes with it. I can recognize when someone is telling a story for the hundredth time, or for the first. From the way she falls limp into my body, with sobs taking over hers, I know. She’s never told this story to anyone.

I run my hand along the back of her wavy, blonde hair bringing my lips to the top of her head.

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