43. Jo
Chapter 43
Jo
P alm to palm, Isaac’s hand engulfs mine in a gesture of physical and emotional need. I mourn the loss of his touch when he releases my hand to straighten his suit jacket. Just as quickly as he let go, he returns his hand, threading his fingers through mine. It’s a subtle change, but sets my brain on an unhealthy spiral.
“Ready?” He leans his mouth close to my ear and whispers. I shiver.
“Whenever you are,” I respond, glancing up at his eyes. A storm of emotions play behind his green irises. I remember the feeling like it was yesterday.
We approach the casket solemnly, my heels clicking against the tiles. Voices around us are muffled by the intense weight of seeing Sam’s lifeless body made up to look youthful and well.
“Is that blush?” I’m shocked by the words coming out of Isaac’s mouth as we kneel next to his brother. I’m even more shocked when he begins to laugh.
A wholehearted, deep, belly laugh.
“Blush. They put blush on him, Jo.” He fights through his cackles to get the words out, loud enough for the whole room to hear.
“Isaac.”
“He’s wearing makeup. That’s not how he really looks!” The laughter becomes manic as he continues to stare at his brother.
He continues laughing, drawing the attention of Liam and his Dad. I glance at them, trying to relay my panic. His panic. I think he’s panicking.
Unsure of how to react, I bring our clasped hands to my mouth, kissing his skin gently. My own struggles with anxiety are one thing, but I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve never seen him look out of control.
“Isaac.” I brush my lips against the back of his hand once more and it draws his attention. The laugher stops and he turns slowly, examining where my mouth meets his skin.
“Get me out of here, Jo.” The storm in his eyes grows dangerous, and I am terrified the boat is about to sink. I stand, pulling him up and through the staring crowd of family and friends.
We burst through the wooden doors into the frigid air of the parking lot, still hand in hand. Isaac’s thick, heavy pants for air trigger my own anxiety.
So many nights listening to Dad struggle to breathe.
Rushing to get oxygen.
The beeping of machines.
There’s a reason I’m a doctor, but there’s also a reason I’m in the classroom.
It’s too much.
A few high-school-aged kids scurry passed us, whispering amongst themselves. How must this look? Two thirty-somethings in the parking lot of a funeral home holding hands, and having a mutual panic attack. Isaac pulls me forward until we’re both sitting down on the curb. I can’t tell if he’s leaning against me or if I’m leaning against him, but somehow we’re holding each other up.
He drops my hand and brings both of his palms to his eyes, rubbing them gently. I stare into the rows of parked cars, listening as his breathing slows to a more reasonable pace.
His voice is muffled when he finally speaks. “Jo.”
“Shh,” I say. “It’s okay.” Before the last word leaves my lips, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me tightly into his side.
The sky turns dark as we sit in silence on the concrete curb. The wintry air swirls around us, but I stay warm, tucked comfortably under his arm. I take a chance, and rest my head on his shoulder.
If only this was real.
“You assholes are literally going to lose appendages out here.” A heavy coat lands on the top of my head, blanketing me in complete darkness. Next to me, I hear Isaac mutter, “Shit!”
I grasp the fabric and pull the jacket down to reveal Carmen standing in front of us, hands on her hips.
“I’m off today,” she continues, “and I do not feel like amputating your toes.” She sends the words flying through the air, and I know she’s directing them at me. I glance down at my fingers that are bright white, and my brain finally registers how cold I am.
“Fuck, Jo. I should not have you out here.” Isaac finishes pulling on his jacket while Carmen shakes her head disapprovingly.
“I know I’m late, but what the hell are you two doing out here?” Carmen pulls me into a hug ,and then awkwardly fist bumps Isaac.
What the hell was that?
“Just decompressing,” I chime in, my eyes jumping between my two friends who seem to be having a silent conversation of their own. “Am I missing something?”
“I’m hungry.” Isaac avoids my question completely, and steers me back towards the main entrance of the funeral home.
“There’s some sandwiches in the family room,” Carmen adds, following us through the hall. I quickly take in the room around me as we bob and weave through the crowds of people, both young and old. Though we were seated outside the door, I swear I didn’t see this many people enter the building. I glance back to find Carmen, but she’s been stolen by a group of our medical school classmates.
Isaac ushers me into the family room, where a table is loaded with turkey subs, chips, a veggie tray, and sodas.
The door closes behind us, and silence falls over us once more.
Isaac looks over at me expectantly.
“Oh, I’m not hungry. I don’t think my stomach can handle food yet.”
He nods, approaching the small refrigerator in the corner of the white room. My body finds a chair in the opposite corner and I sit, shoving my hands under my thighs to warm them. Isaac bends at the waist to pull something out of the fridge before closing it again.
“Hungry enough for green onions with me?”
I can’t control my cheeks pulling into a smile. He’s standing in front of the extensive spread of food, holding just a bunch of scallions in a plastic produce bag.
“You dork!” I exclaim, shooting up from the chair. I grab the bag from his hand, pulling the vegetables out and rinsing them quickly under running water from the sink. I catch him eyeing me curiously as I turn the faucet off.
“Can you? In that dress?” Isaac asks cryptically, but I know exactly what he means.
“Oh, of course.” I pull my coat off, tossing it onto the chair in the corner. “It might take me a minute to get down there though,” I laugh and hand him the clean scallions. “Hold these, and don’t make fun of me.”
My nylon-covered knees hit the cold tile, and I twist onto my butt, pushing myself backwards over the floor until I feel the metal leg of the food table against my back. I duck my head, avoiding smashing it against the wood by only an inch or two, and tuck my legs under myself. The fabric of my dress rides up my thigh, but I pull it down.
I’m probably imagining Isaac’s intent gaze, but I swear it’s burning a hole right through me.
“Alright, c’mon.” I reach up to take the scallions from Isaac as he sheds his suit jacket quickly and joins me under the table. He plucks one singular onion from my bunch and takes a bite, sitting quietly with his legs crossed in front of him.
The closeness of him makes my blood start to buzz. We haven’t done this in years. What was once something silly that Dad and I did when I was a kid became a way of coping with our nearly-impossible exam weeks. Now we’re here. He smells different than I remember. It’s subtle. Almost vanilla.
“This fucking sucks,” he says, taking another small bite of the green onion.
Just imagine what we look like. The two of us. Sitting under the table, chomping on a literal garnish, with tear stained cheeks. If I’m honest, I don’t even like green onions, but I suppose it’s become a comfort.
“Like really fucking sucks,” I add. “I wish no one had to feel like this.” The words hang in the air, swirling around us.
He nods, opening his mouth like he has something to add, but no words come out. The low roar of the crowd just outside the swinging door threatens to overwhelm my brain. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.
Dad is dead.
Sam is dead.
Everyone is leaving.
I don’t realize I’m crying until my lips are coated with a thin layer of salty tears. I thought I would be okay today. I thought I would be able to be strong for Isaac, but I’m sitting on a cold, tiled floor, and I’m falling apart.
Angry.
The emotion hits me square in the face.
The last two years have been a whirlwind of grief, but sitting here with Isaac, my stomach threatens to empty itself.
“He would’ve wanted you there.” My words come out louder and with more of a bite than I mean them to. Isaac’s eyes meet mine, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
Just then, the door swings open and Liam steps in. He glances around before spotting us both under the table. “C’mon. Dad needs us.” Isaac nods, scooting out from under the table. Before he follows Liam into the chaos outside, he turns to me.
“Will you stay with me tonight?”