Page 67 of Part of Forever
I don’t think he’s going to come back this time, and each time I think that, my heart shatters into a million pieces. We weren’t supposed to only have part of forever—he made me feel like we would last forever. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. As mad as I am at him for leaving, I’m more upset with myself for lying. The whole reason he’s gone is because I lied.
My stomach rolls when we pull up to the church where Lucy’s funeral is being held. I remind myself to breathe, that maybe breathing will help the tight knot in my chest ease, but it does nothing to take away the feeling that I’m about to be swallowed whole.
“It’s going to be okay,” Grace says as she tugs me out of the car. “We’ll be right here, and we can walk out at any point if you need to.”
I let out a laugh, even though nothing about this is actually funny. “You can’t walk out of a funeral.”
Grace holds her head high as she loops her arm in mine. “Of course you can, especially when your friend just died of cancer and you also have cancer. That’d be a lot for anyone. So, we don’t have to stay. If you need out, we’ll walk out with you.” I smile weakly at her. There is no way I’m leaving early.
“We can leave whenever you need to, Rosebud,” Dad says, giving my shoulder a squeeze. I’m glad he came, but I won’t leave early. We’ll see this through.
My determination wavers when we enter the foyer and are surrounded by pictures of Lucy—a lot of them from when she was younger, but also a few recent ones, with her buzzed head and smiling face. Nathan grabs a program and we follow a line of people to a room in the back of the church for the viewing.
I stop abruptly. “I forgot we have to do this part,” I say.
“We can just go to the chapel,” Nathan offers, but Ishake my head. Just because it’s been a while since I’ve been to a funeral and just because I have cancer, too, doesn’t mean I can’t do this.
“It’s okay, I’m okay, I just forgot. It’s been a while since Grandma died.” She was the last person I knew who passed away.
“You sure?” Nathan asks, and I nod, even though I’m not sure at all.
We enter the small room, and the casket is up against one wall, but we’re far enough away that I can’t see her yet. There’s a line of people, including a few little kids, and I realize they must be Lucy’s younger siblings. Her mom is at the very end of the line, so we say hello to all of the kids first, who look sad, but also a little bored.
“Hi,” I say nervously to the woman who let her oldest daughter stay alone in the hospital week after week. I feel an anger I didn’t know I felt bubble up in my chest.
“You must be Rosie,” the woman says, and my heart softens just a little. Her face is puffy, like she’s been crying as much as I have. “Luce told me so much about you.”
Then she gives me a hug that I’m not quite ready for.
“Uh, yeah. I’m Rosie,” I say as she pulls me to her chest. She smells like oranges and flowers.
“It’s good to meet you,” she says when she finally releases me. “Lucy would have been so glad you made it. I know she wanted us to meet before this, but here we are.” She says it somewhat lightly, but I can hear the pain in her voice.
“I’m glad I’m here,” I say, surprised at how honest the words feel. “Lucy was a good friend.”
Lucy’s mom’s eyes water and I realize I still don’t know her name. “Well, say a goodbye to her if you want; we’ll see you in the chapel,” she says. I nod and step back from her. Grace links my arm in hers again, and Nathan is close by. I am so grateful they didn’t leave me alone for this.
I bite my lip as we approach the casket. It’s Lucy, but it also doesn’t look like Lucy. She was always so bright and bubbly and full of life, and I expect her to wake up and smile and tell me aboutthe weather, or something equally as mundane, but with a huge smile on her face. My heart cracks when I remember that she won’t ever do that again.
“We can go,” I whisper to Grace, who has to pull me from the spot, as my feet seem to be glued to the ground.
I blink back tears as we walk into the chapel and sit down. I will not cry yet; maybe once people start talking and more people cry, but I will not cry yet. Grace keeps her arm linked with mine and Nathan takes my other hand; they might not know it, but they’re anchoring me to reality, even though part of me desperately wants to run away. I know I won’t leave; even if it’s hard to be here, I can’t leave. Lucy wouldn’t leave and I want to be here for her, even though she’s already gone.
The service is beautiful, but also a bit of a blur. My mind wanders to the tumor growing in my body, to the Paris Academy that still doesn’t know my cancer is back, and to Tucker, more times than I’d like to admit. If I die, will he come to my funeral?
We sing songs of hope and grace, and Lucy’s pastor speaks about life, peace, and life after death. I don’t know if I believe any of it, but he has a soothing voice, and by the time he’s done talking, I do feel a little calmer. Or maybe I’m just still numb.
We follow the long train of cars to the gravesite, since Lucy’s parents said that Lucy wanted me to be there. I stand in the background of the family, not wanting to interrupt. One of Lucy’s brothers, who looks about seventeen and has her same smile, reads a poem while he rests one hand on the closed casket. He doesn’t cry, but many of the people who are here do, and when he’s finished, he tucks the poem into one of the seams of the casket, as if the poem can rest with Lucy.
When it’s all over, Lucy’s mother invites us for food, but Dad tells her that I need to get home and rest because of the cancer. That makes Lucy’s mom cry a little as she hugs me again, and she says to let her know if there’s anything she can do for me.
“Well,” I say, suddenly exhausted and grateful that Dad declined the offer for food.
“Let’s get you home, Sis,” Nathan says, leading me to the car. “You look like you need a nap.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so drained in my life,” I admit, and Grace just hugs my arm.
“Completely understandable,” she says, and she holds my hand the entire ride home.
