Page 17 of One Foggy Christmas
“Tate, your absence will forever leave a hole in my heart. Not a day will go by when I won’t wish you were here so I could laugh with you and get your advice. You’re my best friend, and I know you won’t leave me. You’ll still push me from heaven, helping me become everything you said I could be.” Tears spill down my face as my eyes drop to the cherry casket in front of me. “Thanks for showing me the way and being the best big brother a girl could ask for. I love you, Tate.”
I grab my paper and sit as Annie steps up to the pulpit.
I should find Stetson in the crowd for reassurance, but instead, my gaze shoots to the back where Nash sits. Sure enough, he’s there, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.
SADIE
“Thank you so much for coming,”I say to Mrs. Richenbaugh as I walk her to my best friend’s car. Autumn was nice enough to pick up Mrs. Richenbaugh this morning and drive her to the funeral so she could pay her respects to Tate. She always had a soft spot in her heart for my brother, even though she kicked him out of seventh and eighth-grade choir at least twice a week. But that’s what was so great about Tate—you could never stay mad at him for long.
“It was a beautiful service.” She squeezes my hand as I help her into the passenger side.
“It really was.” Autumn opens the driver’s door and takes a seat.
I don’t shut the door on Mrs. Richenbaugh because she’s still holding my hand.
“Did I tell you I’m getting surgery on my hip next week? I’ll be out for two months.”
“Yes, you did tell me that.” Autumn and I exchange small smiles because Mrs. Richenbaugh keeps reminding us of her surgery even though she’s here for Tate.
“I’m the music director for A Dickens Christmas, but I won’t be able to go to the practices, and there’s no one to sub for me. How will we be ready for the festival in December with me gone? Everyone knows A Dickens Christmas is the biggest holiday event in the Finger Lakes.”
Autumn gently takes Mrs. Richenbaugh by the arm, slowly pulling her hand away from mine. “If I weren’t in school, I’d come back to Skaneateles just for two months to be your substitute.”
Mrs. Richenbaugh turns her head to Autumn. “You always did have a beautiful voice. Who do I need to talk to, to fly you in?”
Autumn gestures for me to close the door while she’s distracted. “We’ll talk about it on the drive to your house.”
“Thanks for coming, Mrs. Richenbaugh.” I shut the door and step back from the car, waving as Autumn reverses.
“Can you believe she came?”
I turn over my shoulder as Stetson wraps his arm around me. There’s no denying he looks handsome today in his black suit with a faint gray pinstripe running through it. His dark hair is cut short around his neck and ears and slicked back in the front—very dashing and distinguished. That’s always how I describe him.
Since I’ve been home, we’ve slipped back into our usual interactions. I don’t know what it means, and I don’t care to figure it out. Now isn’t the time to have a deep relationship talk with everything else going on.
“Mrs. Richenbaugh loved Tate,” I explain. “She even visited him after his football injury.”
“I know. I just meant she only leaves her house for choir practice. It was nice of Autumn to pick her up and bring her to the church.”
“Is everyone almost gone?” I shift under Stetson’s arm so my body faces his.
“All that’s left is your family.”
I close my eyes, pressing my forehead into his chest. “They are the people I don’t want to see right now. I think I’ll stay at Autumn’s house again tonight.”
“I don’t understand the blame you’re putting on your parents. What happened to Tate was not their fault.”
I whip my head up. “How can you even say that?”
Stetson gently caresses my cheek. “I know how much you idolized Tate. You would never think anything bad about him. But he had an addiction, Sadie, and he hid it from everyone. That’s not your parents' fault.”
“You act like he was some lowlife shooting up cocaine. He just got in trouble with pain meds, which my parents put him on andkepthim on so that he could make a quick recovery and play football in college. They should’ve seen the signs. If my dad wasn’t always harping on Tate about his life choices, hewould’veseen the signs.”
“None of us saw them.”
His words hit hard, forcing tears into my eyes. “Are you saying the same thing my dad did? That if I hadn’t gone to Chicago for a silly internship, none of this would’ve happened? That I would’ve been here to see the signs?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and your dad shouldn’t have said it either. You were pressing him on his tough-love tactics, and he lashed out in defense about you not being here.” He sighs, rubbing the sides of my arms. “All I’m saying is that you don’t have to blame yourself or your parents. Despite how it all got started, Tate was the one addicted to painkillers and lied toeveryone about it for years. What was your dad supposed to do when he found him stealing money from him last week?”
