17. Coming Home
17
Coming Home
We buried Dad on a Wednesday afternoon beneath a brightly shining sun as the early April breeze chilled us through our coats. I hated how beautiful the day was. It should have been raining or storming, some type of somber weather that reflected the deep sorrow strangling me.
But it didn’t rain, and it didn’t storm. The sun warmed my face as I stood between Ben and Will, one hand clenched tightly in Ben’s as the other gripped the top of my cane to keep myself standing.
I hadn’t wanted the hospital crutch, and Will, being the best brother ever, picked me up a badass cane, shiny black with orange flames curling up from the ground. I thought it was a joke at first, but the damn thing had grown on me.
So I stood next to the freshly dug grave, white-knuckling the head of my cane, as my father’s casket lowered into the ground. Aunt June and Uncle Henry were behind us, Aunt June’s hand rubbing soothing circles on my lower back. Uncle Rick stood on the other side of the grave, crying silent, fat tears. Sadie held Anna close as Remy, Sadie’s twin, fidgeted behind them.
Dispersed through the crowd were extended family members, a few of Dad’s friends and colleagues, and my friends. Kim, Caroline, Jordan, and Harris grouped together to my right. Behind them, Ronnie and Esther watched the proceedings somberly. Even Ms. Acker was in the crowd, hovering along the fringes. She looked stricken, and I wondered—not for the first time—if my dad had been sleeping with my theater director.
The minister droned on about heaven and eternity and other shit that may or may not have existed at all. He talked about the people Charlie Brigs was leaving behind, and how, as long as we never forgot him, he would live on inside our memories.
Which was bullshit. We’d remember him always, but it didn’t bring him back to life. He was still dead. He was still pale and cold inside that fancy casket, and no amount of good memories would put life back into his empty body.
But I clamped my mouth shut until my jaw ached, swallowing the rage and grief swirling like a molten knot of metal in my gut. Will gave a speech, and judging from the tears and sniffles in the crowd, it was a damn good one.
It mostly sounded like gibberish in my ears. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the pain meds or my concussion or my grief. Probably a combination of all three.
Before stepping away from the makeshift podium, Will looked at me as if to ask if I wanted to say something. The mere notion coated my throat in bile. I shook my head, and he nodded, disappointed but resigned.
When the minister started praying, I bowed my head like everyone else and stared at the stupid tie dangling from my neck. I hated ties, but I figured Dad would have liked it. Cora had actually been the one to fasten the tie into a Windsor knot at my throat, telling me I looked positively handsome.
I’d thanked her. She’d kissed my cheek. I’d told her she was going to be a good mom, and she’d hugged me. We had both cried a little then, but we would never admit it.
Last night, after the stitches had been removed and I was released from the hospital, Aunt June did her best to salvage my hair in preparation for the funeral. The sides were almost entirely shaved, blending into the longer hairs on top.
I thought I looked like a punk, but Ben said it was edgy. I’d called him a liar, and he’d laughed.
“Silas?” Ben tugged gently on my hand, and I angled my head in his direction. “It’s over.”
It was? I surveyed the crowd as it disbanded, black-clothed mourners heading back to their cars. I hadn’t heard the minister say amen, but everyone was leaving.
“Okay.” I touched the jagged ridge above my ear, the flesh bumpy and tender. “Can I have a second?”
“Of course.”
With a squeeze of my hand, Ben backed away, leaving me alone. Flowers littered the top of the casket now six feet below, and I shuffled as close to the edge as I dared.
There was no headstone yet. It wouldn’t be delivered for another few weeks. Until then, this would remain an unremarkable plot, a mound of fresh dirt forever entombing the bones of my father.
The rose-covered casket blurred, and a breath shuddered out of me. There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but my tongue was paralyzed and my throat was tight.
So I said, “Bye, Dad. I love you.”
My hip was stiff from standing too long, and it groaned in protest as I turned to shuffle away from the grave. A flash of purple captured my attention, and I paused in my retreat.
Eli stood several yards away, sunglasses reflecting the sunshine, hands tucked into his skinny jeans. He wore a purple button-up and a hesitant smile.
“Hey,” I said, and he took it as an invitation to approach.
“Hi,” he said as he came to a stop before me.
He slid his sunglasses up and onto his head, revealing a faded bruise around his right eye. I reached out before I thought better of it, and he flinched away before I made contact.
I dropped my hand to my side. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he dismissed. His green eyes studied me, the wound above my ear, the cane in my grasp. He swallowed hard. “Jesus, Silas.”
“You should see the other guy,” I said, but neither of us laughed. “What are you doing here?”
Pink crept over his cheeks, and he dropped his gaze to the ground. “I’m not here to cause drama, if that’s what you mean. I just wanted to… I can go if you want.”
“No, it’s good to see you,” I said honestly, and his mouth twitched.
“I wanted to visit you at the hospital, but I didn’t think I’d be welcome.”
He glanced behind me, and I followed his stare to where Ben stood with my group of friends. They’d been gawking at us, but the second I turned, they all jerked their gazes away, pretending like they weren’t. Well, everyone except Ben. He glared at Eli, his mouth a thin line.
“Yeah, apparently I have a few guard dogs now.” I fingered the end of my tie. “Get in one car accident, and everyone freaks out.”
“You have terrible jokes,” he said, and I scoffed.
“I blame it on the concussion,” I said, and Eli winced, his eyes straying back to the gash on my head. I nodded. “Yeah, my dreams of being a hair model are forever ruined.”
“Are you… okay?”
It was my turn to shrug. “As good as can be expected.”
“I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks.” An awkward silence settled between us, and I scratched the back of my neck, feeling too many pairs of eyes on my back. “You coming back to the church? I guess there’s gonna be food.”
“No, your friends are already mentally eviscerating me. I don’t wanna tempt their self-control.”
“I could tell them to play nice,” I offered, and he snorted.
“Nah. Like I said, I’m not here to cause drama. I just needed to… I don’t know.” For a moment, his eyes glimmered with moisture, but then he blinked and it was gone. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The pressure in my chest eased marginally. “Thanks, Eli. I’m glad you came.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He smiled fully and ducked his head. “What about Wonder Boy?”
“His name’s Ben.”
“I refuse to remember that,” he teased, and I laughed roughly.
“I don’t really know. Everything’s…” I waved my hand, and somehow Eli got it.
He nodded. “Yeah, life’s a bitch.”
This time, when I reached out, he didn’t recoil, and I traced the edge of his bruise. “You okay?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” His voice warbled, betraying the nonchalance of his words.
“If you—”
He grabbed my wrist, grip tight. “It’s fine.”
Too stubborn for my own good, I shook off his hold, cupped the back of his neck, and hauled him into an awkward embrace. He oomphed against my shoulder, but he tentatively wrapped his arms around my waist.
“If you need a safe place, I’ve got you,” I said in his ear, and his fingers tightened to fists against my spine.
“I always knew you were too good for me,” he grumbled, and I shook my head.
“Don’t be dumb. Just say, ‘okay, Silas.’”
“Okay, Silas,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I startled when he pressed a fleeting kiss to my cheek. “Eli—”
“Take care of yourself. Maybe I’ll see you around.” He backed away, and I let him go. The second before he turned to walk away, he faltered. “Not that it means much coming from me, but you’re a good guy, Silas. I hope… I hope he makes you happy, because you deserve someone who treats you like the sun shines out your ass.”
Without waiting for a response, Eli turned and trudged away, shoulders hunched against the brisk wind. There was a passing finality to the moment as he left, and I inhaled deeply, blowing the heavy breath out through pursed lips.
“You ready?” Ben asked, scaring the shit out of me. When had he snuck up behind me?
“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna give me a heart attack,” I growled as I spun on him. “Why do you insist on skulking around?”
“I don’t skulk,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “You skulk.”
“Whatever. You ready?” His blue eyes focused over my shoulder on Eli’s retreating form, and they cooled.
“He was offering his condolences,” I said, and he ground his teeth.
“Okay.”
“He was being nice.”
“ Okay, ” he snapped, and I couldn’t hide my grin.
Leaning in, I pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be jealous.” I straightened, gripped my cane tighter, and held out my other hand. “Help the gimp to the car?”
A beautiful blush graced his cheeks as he touched the corner of his lips where I’d kissed him. He smiled, a goofy, crooked thing. Then he took my hand and guided it into the crook of his elbow so he could shoulder some of my weight as I limped toward Will’s rental car.
When we made it back to my group of friends, Kim and Caroline rushed to me, pushing Ben out of the way so they could plant kisses on my cheeks. Harris fiddled with his bowtie as Ronnie and Jordan discussed whether it was disrespectful to smoke weed in a cemetery.
Esther rubbed my back as I shambled past, my arm hooked around Kim’s shoulders. Ben helped me into the backseat of Will’s rental car before climbing in on the other side. My friends split into two cars to follow us to Esther’s church that we’d rented for the wake.
As Will drove, I rested my head on the back of my seat and closed my eyes. I had the start of a headache, but I couldn’t take another pain med for another few hours. My hip was sore, and my foot had gone numb the second I sat down.
Uncertain fingers crept over the back of my hand, and I accepted the touch with a smile. Our fingers twined, and I heard the shuddered rush of Ben’s relieved exhale. Our hands fit together snugly, and it felt like coming home.
When we arrived at the church, Ben helped me out of the car, steadying me when my cane slipped in the loose gravel of the parking lot. Will and Cora were already halfway to the door, talking with Uncle Rick. I spotted Sadie’s husband, Dan, standing near the doors of the church. A mini human bounced beside him, her light pink dress swaying with every busy wiggle of her body.
“Prepare yourself,” I told Ben as we slowly made our way across the gravel. “Lily may offer to do your makeup.”
“Uh, what?”
“Uncle Si!” Lily squealed, ripping free of Dan’s grasp and sprinting toward us.
“Uh-oh.” I cemented myself to Ben’s side as Lily collided with my legs, nearly knocking me off balance. “Hey, Bug. Careful—”
“Lily!” Sadie ran toward us, apologies written all over her face. “Lily, I told you to be careful with Silas. He’s hurt, remember?”
Ben shouldered almost my entire body weight as I teetered, unable to catch my footing as Lily clung to my leg, face buried in my thigh. “It’s fine,” I said, patting Lily’s curly hair. “She’s okay.”
“No, she needs to listen,” Sadie said, exasperated as she disentangled us. “Lily, you’re hurting Silas. Let go.”
“Sowy,” she said, her big eyes filling with tears.
“It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Sadie hoisted Lily into her arms, then carefully embraced me. Lily’s tiny arms circled my neck, and I hugged them both with my free arm as Ben anchored me from behind. Lily touched the side of my head, and I flinched back.
“You have an ouchie,” she said somberly.
“Yeah, I have a couple ouchies. But I’ll get better.” I rubbed our noses together as Sadie sniffled.
Lily captured my face in her little hands and stared deeply into my eyes. “Sowy that Uncle Chawlie is in heaven.”
And fuck me, I couldn’t help but tear up at that. “Thanks, Lily Bug.”
“Don’t cwy.” She petted my cheek, and I choked on a sob-like laugh.
“Okay, I won’t cry.”
Sadie backed away, taking Lily with her, and I tried to ignore the tears carving down my cousin’s face. Anna hovered behind her sister, staring at Ben who stepped back up beside me, hand on my arm to help me balance.
“Oh, shit. Manners.” I waved my cane between Ben and my cousins. “These are my cousins, Sadie and Anna. That’s Lily, Sadie’s daughter. Um, this is Ben, my—” I cut myself off before I blurted the word boyfriend . “Uh, Ben? I mean, not my Ben. Just Ben. This is Ben. Fuck my life.”
Anna blatantly laughed at me as Sadie hid a giggle behind her hand. Ben squeezed my arm as a chuckle rumbled in his chest. Then he extended his hand toward Sadie.
“Hi, I’m Silas’s Ben. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Sadie hitched Lily higher on her hip and shook his hand. “It’s nice to put a face to the name finally.”
“Oh?” Ben’s expression looked slightly panicked as Anna shook his hand next, face dangerously neutral.
“Yeah, we’ve heard all about you,” she said in a monotone.
Ben swallowed thickly.
“Okay, enough intimidation tactics,” I said, shooing them toward the doors. “It’s cold out here. Go!” To Ben, I said, “Ignore them. They’re crazy.”
He hummed noncommittally as we headed toward the church entrance.
“Oh my God,” Sadie said, coming to an abrupt stop right inside the doors.
Anna stumbled around her frozen sister, eyes wide. She turned to me as Ben and I walked into the entry. “Silas, get out of here.”
“What?” I craned my neck around Sadie as strained voices filled the air.
Trying to find the source of the commotion, I searched the small crowd gathered around the coat racks. Uncle Rick stood with his arms crossed over his broad chest, face unreadable. Cora was pale. Will looked sick.
“What’s—” My voice died in my throat as my stare clashed with a pair of familiar eyes. Gray eyes. My eyes.
“Silas?” my mother said, and I…
I was twelve years old, telling my mom, “I don’t want to kiss girls. I think I want to kiss boys. Is that bad?”
I was twelve years old, standing at the window as my mom climbed into her beat-up Honda Civic while my dad begged her to stay.
I was twelve years old, staring into an empty closet where my mom’s dresses used to hang.
And I…
“Silas,” Ben said, and I inhaled, my lungs crying out in relief.
“Take me home,” I said to no one in particular. “I wanna go home.”
Will had grabbed my mother’s arm, face pinched. “I told you not to come—”
“You’ve got real nerve showing up here, Grace,” Uncle Rick was growling.
But my mother ignored them, staring right at me with wide, wet eyes. “Silas—”
“I wanna go home,” I repeated.
And Ben said, “Okay.”
With no preamble, he scooped me up bridal style and strode back into the cool, spring breeze. My cane clattered to the ground, but he didn’t pause to retrieve it. I clung to his neck as he carried me back to the car.
“I didn’t know she was coming.” Will jogged after us, air puffing from his pale cheeks. “I told her not to—”
“Give me your keys,” Ben ordered.
Will frowned. “Hold up—”
“Uncle Henry will make sure you have a ride home,” Ben interrupted again. “Now give me your keys.”
“Please, Will,” I begged, and Will’s face fell.
“I promise I didn’t know she’d be here,” he said. “I would never do that to you.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed him. “Will, please let me go. I can’t—please.”
With a sigh, he dug into his pockets and tossed me the keys. I caught them, and Ben closed the remaining distance between us and the car. He sat me into the passenger seat and buckled me securely. Then he plucked the keys out of my hands and kissed my forehead roughly.
I didn’t look up from my lap as Ben peeled out of the parking lot, spitting rocks behind us.