Chapter 14
JOSH
Melanie and I pull up to the municipal building at the same time as Liam, Sophie, and Miles. When Miles sees me, he goes right in for the hug.
“How are you, man? Getting famous?” Miles jokes, pulling back.
I scratch the nape of my neck and tilt my head sheepishly. “Not quite yet.” I laugh.
“I don’t know, I’ve heard some of your stuff on Spotify. I think you’re on your way,” Miles says.
“He’s just being modest,” Melanie chimes in, giving me a smirk.
“We’ll see if I can write this album.” I laugh.
“You will, man,” Liam says, patting me on the back.
We start walking as a group, up the steps to the municipal building. It’s warm for June, feeling more like August, but the sun is shining and I’m with friends I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again. Gratitude swells in my chest—I don’t take any of this for granted.
We enter the foyer, and Miles hits the buzzer to bring us back. The secretaries know him by name and buzz us right in.
“So, my dad loves the idea,” Miles is saying as we walk to the back of the large building. “But he said if we want to raise funds for a scholarship, we need approval from the superintendent.”
Melanie says. “How do we get that?”
“Well, he’s here today so I assume he’ll give us a verbal approval at least,” Miles says, pulling open a large black door and holding it so we can all walk through. Inside is a waiting area with two doors. One reads Board of Education and the other says Town Council.
That’s convenient.
We come to another large desk with another secretary. “Hey, Colleen.” Miles grins, leaning over the desk. “Is my dad ready for us?”
“Hi, everyone. Let me give him a call,” Colleen says with a smile.
While she does, I mosey around, looking at the plaques, frames, and awards on the wall.
There are state trophies from high school basketball tournaments, music awards from band competitions.
Various news articles of town successes hang in wooden frames.
My breath catches in my throat when I see the article detailing Cara leading her high school soccer team to the state championship in her sophomore year.
I didn’t expect to see it here, and I don’t think I’ve ever read it.
I run my fingertips over the glass in the frame.
There’s a photo of Cara in the right corner of the article—she’s on her teammate’s shoulders, holding a large gold trophy.
Her smile is bright, ecstatic. I don’t get to skim the article because Councilman John Corbin opens his door, startling me.
“Hey guys,” he says, his expression warm and open.
I move back to join the group, and he holds out his hand to me. “Josh. It’s been a while,” he says solemnly.
“It sure has,” I agree, shaking his hand with a pat on the back.
“Let’s chat, shall we?” He gestures for us to enter the conference room, and we all take our seats. Another gentleman, that I assume is the superintendent of schools, sits with a hot cup of coffee. He stands when we enter and shakes everyone’s hands.
“Can I get you all anything?” Colleen asks. I hadn’t realized she’d followed us in.
“We’re good, Colleen, thank you,” Miles answers for us, dipping his head in appreciation.
We all settle into various conference table seats.
I can’t shake off the news article, and I struggle to focus.
I desperately want to read it, but then again, I don’t.
I’m here now, that’s what matters. The meeting passes by in a blur.
We hammer down some details—Rotary Park, six p.m. on September sixth—and the superintendent loves the idea of a QR code for donations.
Sophie agrees to take the lead on that. They will send flyers home for parents to donate.
We won’t charge the day of, but whatever we raise leading up to the concert, we’ll donate back to the school for a soccer scholarship, since that’s the sport Cara loved most. Everyone is chattering happily as we walk out, but for some reason, I’m feeling low.
“You okay?” Melanie asks, turning toward me.
I push my lips into a tight line and nod. “Yeah. I’ll be okay. It’s just a lot, you know? I haven’t thought this much about the accident in years.”
Melanie reaches out and touches my bicep, sending a shiver through me. “I get it,” she says gently.
“I think—” I pause, I don’t want her to take this the wrong way. “I’m going to go to the cemetery.”
Melanie’s expression softens, her voice gentle. “Oh, okay. Do you want some company?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so this time. I’m sorry.” Guilt settles heavy in my chest—she’s only trying to help. “I just need to visit Cara on my own, if that’s okay.”
Sure, in the past twenty-five years, I’ve thought about Cara often.
I’ve missed her desperately. Losing a sibling is like losing a limb.
Growing up, we were always together. We were Irish twins—super close in age and each other’s most trusted companion.
Losing her broke all of us, but my parents whipped me out of town so fast, I didn’t have to face being here without her.
The memories overwhelm me. For the first time since I’ve arrived, I feel like I need a drink, and that’s not a good feeling.
“Okay.” Hurt flashes across her features but she recovers, giving me a forced smile. “I have to work at four so…”
I nod, my jaw tight. “Okay. I’ll see if I can make it, maybe I’ll stop in.” If I can stop needing that drink. I don’t say that part out loud. I don’t want Melanie to worry about me.
“Okay.” Melanie turns to go.
I should stop her and kiss her goodbye but everyone else is still nearby. I know she’s probably reading into the shift in my mood but right now, I just have to get out of here and clear my head.
My conscience gets the better of me. “You want a lift home?” I call after her.
She shakes her head, shielding her eyes from the bright sun. “I’ll walk. I’ll be okay,” she says. She doesn’t wait for me to reply before she starts walking.
* * *
I easily remember the way to Saint Mary’s Cemetery because in middle school, Chris, Aaron, and I used to ride through here on our bikes.
The tricky part will be remembering where we laid Cara to rest. I park my car on the shoulder of the main path and get out for a walk.
I think it’ll jog my memory, and maybe the fresh air will do me good.
It’s been a while since I’ve felt the urge to drink like this.
There is no rhyme or reason to the placement of graves, and I realize I’m probably looking for a needle in a haystack. I quickly read each name on each headstone I pass—no trees or landmarks look familiar.
Gates
Caldwell
Seymour
Williams
Harper
“Oh…wow. Leah,” I murmur to myself. I hadn’t realized Liam’s sister had passed. Sadly, we have something in common. She was my age. A dull ache settles in my gut, and I debate turning back.
Cocozza
Brown
Smith
I come to the end of a path and then I see a beautiful pink dogwood tree.
It’s much taller now than it was twenty-five years ago.
Most of the pink blooms have fallen off in the sea breeze to make way for the green leaves, but this is it.
It was newly planted and so much smaller back then, but I remember it because my mom specifically loved that there would be a flowering tree near Cara’s gravesite.
I hang a right and walk slowly between the headstones, being careful not to walk on a grave. Then I find her.
Cara Cote
Beloved daughter, sister, and friend.
Gone but not forgotten.
June 14, 1982 – September 16, 1999.
My throat tightens and the backs of my eyes burn. I haven’t laid eyes on her gravesite since the funeral. Other headstones around us have flowers, American flags stuck in the ground. Cara’s is bare. Guilt pricks my cheeks. It says, “Gone but not forgotten,” but that doesn’t feel true anymore.
I’m not the praying kind but I drop to my knees anyway, the hot sun on my back and dirt sticking to my knees. I fold my hands, pressing them to my lips and close my eyes.
“I’m sorry, sis,” I whisper. “I never forgot you.”
The words hang there, heavier than I thought. Then the tears find me, and I have no choice but to give in to them. The memories press in, jagged and relentless. I have no choice but to surrender to them.
“Josh.” My father knocks on my door.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, grabbing a hoodie. “I’m just heading to the game. I’m super late.”
My dad hesitates, his face crumbling. “No, son, you’re not. Have a seat.”
I frown in confusion, sitting on the bed. “Okay.” That’s when I hear it—my mother’s wail from the other room. Like a rabid animal. It’s a sound that would haunt me for the rest of my life. “What’s wrong?” I ask, panic rising to my throat like bile.
My dad sighs and rubs his hand down his face. “There’s been an accident.” His voice cracks. “Your sister…” He can’t get the words out.
Nausea rises. Goose bumps pebble my arms. “What? No. Where is Cara?”
My dad sits down next to me and pulls me into him. “She was in the car with Liam and Melanie. Someone ran a stop sign.”
Melanie. Oh my god. My throat tightens. Melanie and I thought it would be best for her to go with them tonight—so as not to draw suspicion.
“Is she hurt?” I feel tears stinging the back of my eyes.
“Your mom and I have to go to the hospital. I need you to come with us.” He stands then. “Your mother is a wreck. I need you to sit in the back with her while I drive.”
“Okay, Dad. Whatever you need,” I say.
I sniffle and wipe my eyes, shaking my head to clear the memory of the worst day of my life.
We didn’t know it at the time, but Cara was pronounced dead at the scene.
I think when my dad told me we had to go, he still had hope.
I shudder and stand, wiping my eyes with the heel of my palm.
I don’t know how long I have been here—I left my phone in my car.
As painful as this has been, I needed to do it.
“I’ll be back, Cara,” I say to her headstone. “I promise.”