8. ALLISON
Chapter eight
ALLISON
C alla lilies, carnations, and daisies are what make up the entire arrangement. They are all in white, contrasting against the deep black wood of the casket, and the umbrellas of the same color.
Calla lilies for rebirth and resurrection.
Carnations for purity and sweetness.
And finally, daisies, for a heartfelt farewell to the one who has left in youth.
I had picked these flowers from my store by myself; my final farewell to my best friend.
Moving away after high school had been a decision I didn’t make lightly, feeling every second like I had abandoned Emily, but I’d tried my best to be with her as often as I could. Skyping and calling had helped, but these were no substitute for being a real friend.
But it had felt like my path—my destiny. I felt like I had to leave this town, and go to college as far away as I could afford. It was always my dream to be a flower farmer, a botanist, a florist… Anything, really, that had to do with plants and science and nature.
I’d gotten close, too. A few internships here and there. But…
When Emily fell pregnant, I promised myself I’d be here till she got back on her feet. A few months ago, I’d even started thinking about heading out again.
Things change, though.
I’m glad I never left, though. Now I could say I had done everything I could to be there with her.
But not enough. I remind myself. I hadn’t been there when she had driven to meet Jacob.
I should have forced her to take me along. I should have done anything to be with her, and maybe I’d have been the one driving. Maybe, just maybe, we’d be home right now, laughing at the horrible acting in a sitcom.
I can’t stop the barrage of thoughts and the guilt that follows them.
Funerals are a meeting of regrets, and this one is no different. I see Jacob, looking as strong and unmoved as possible, like he is carved out of stone. I want to offer him some comfort, but I don’t know how well it’ll be taken.
There are several people around us watching as the casket is lowered into the ground, but none of them are watching him like I am. They don’t see his hands close in tight fists as the casket gets lower. Not a single one of them sees the flinch of his eyes or the tremble in his lips when the first shovelful of dirt hits the wood.
I see all of this, and once again, I can see the man behind the mask. The vulnerability behind the stone—and so I step closer to place my hand on his.
Jacob’s fist loosens when he feels my hand, and I slip my hand into his. I want to give him something to hold onto, and at this very moment some irrational part of me wishes he’d close his fist back. I know it would hurt, but maybe the pain it would bring would substitute the one tearing me apart in the pit of my stomach.
Maybe the pain would finally make me feel something else. The guilt is almost too much to bear, but if Jacob can stand, despite how he must be feeling, then I can do it, too.
Eventually the casket is all the way down, and we disperse, making our way back to Emily’s. My hand remains clutched in Jacob’s throughout, and I am content to let it stay this way.
* * *
When we arrive at Emily’s place, the mood has shifted from somber to a more communal gathering.
Whether it’s because we postponed the funeral for so long or because we’ve finally started replying to messages, it seems like the whole village is here for the wake. In a way, it’s really nice. In another, it’s a bit suffocating.
I appreciate seeing how many people came out for Emily.
Still, I take the first opportunity to slip out after people start leaving. On the excuse to pick up Maddie from the sitter, I wave goodbye to Jacob and practically run.
Emily’s next door neighbor, Sherry, is holding Maddie in her lap when I make my way to her house after most of the visitors have gone. Jacob is still busy with other guests, so I leave him to handle that while I take care of Maddie. I am supposed to make sure that she is fed and her diaper is changed, but I know all of that will have already been taken care of.
It is Sherry, after all.
Sherry is a force to be reckoned with, and her age is no reason to underestimate her by the meanest fraction. I wasn’t foolish enough to make that mistake.
I make my way into her home after ringing her doorbell and receiving a reply in the form of a yell to get it.
“Hello, Sherry. Good day. How are you doing?”
“Better than most days, I suppose.” she answers, before she performs her trademark stare at me. I am sure she has used that stare to keep unruly students in line for decades. “Although this little one has decided my hair is to be tugged for her amusement.”
“Sorry about that.” I apologize on Maddie’s behalf. “Stop that Maddie. You don’t even have the slightest clue that it can hurt. No one’s tugging your hair, are they?” Rubbing Maddie’s sparse crop of hair, I crouch close to Sherry so I can try extracting her hair from Maddie’s grip, but surprisingly, Sherry is the one to stop me.
“Oh, don’t bother. Leave her. It’s just a little pain, nothing wrong with that. It’s good for the soul, I hear. The gist is, if you don’t experience pain for a long period of time, you begin to lose touch with your true self, because, at the end of the day, we are not made only for light, or good feelings. There’s always a balance to these things—light, and darkness. Too much light isn’t good for the eyes, and neither is too much dark. So no pain makes your life bland.”
I don’t understand what she is talking about, but I am used to metaphysical and psychological lessons from Sherry. A carry-on from her teaching days, I suppose.
Then again, that’s Sherry for you .
But some of it does make sense to me. “I can understand some of that I guess, it’s basically about how strife is responsible for every great thing and invention.”
“Good. You get the idea.”
“I guess so.”
“No. You need to really get it. He is hurting. That’s his dark. He will need a lot of light to balance it out, and I think you can help.”
I have a feeling I know who she is talking about, but I don’t know how I can help.
“Who?”
“Who else, girl? Jacob.”
I raise my brows. “I guess I understand what you mean.”
“You don’t. Not yet. Not really, but you will.”
She manages to get Maddie’s grip off her hair, placing her firmly on her lap this time. “Now I know you’re here for this one, and you can have her. Get her off me before she plucks all the hair off my head.” Sherry laughs now, and somehow I end up joining her. Maddie doesn’t have the slightest clue why we are laughing but she joins in, making us quite the picture.
It is almost poetic. Old woman, woman, and a baby girl, all joined together by a thread of laughter. It is almost reminiscent of the three fates.
This image remains in my head as I make my way back to Jacob with Maddie in my arms.
The apartment is empty when I return, and I see him waving off the last of the guests as they drive away. I watch him from a distance, and the look on his face lets me know of the struggles he still hasn’t shared with me.
Jacob is out of his depth, and he doesn’t even know it. I can’t let him do this alone.
“How are you hanging in there, Jake?” I ask him, because it is evident that he is struggling to manage all this by himself.
“I’m okay. Just need to recharge a bit, and I’ll be good.”
He is lying. I know it, and he knows that I know, too. “When was the last time you got to sleep at night? Or for eight hours at a stretch? The truth, please.”
It takes him more than a few seconds before he finally answers.
“Since I’ve been back, I don't think I have gotten up to eight hours. And before that, I can’t even remember.”
I realize that he isn’t trying to delay or deflect when he doesn’t answer my question for a while. He honestly doesn’t know the last time he had eight hours of sleep, and he is trying to find one day in recent memory.
God! How is he still standing?
“How are you still on your feet right now?”
He doesn’t give me an answer, but I understand what Sherry meant by him needing my help. He is hurting. That is his dark… right now.
I am not sure if I’m remembering it correctly, but I now know what she meant. I make the decision before I can think about it, and once I say it, I know that I won’t be changing my mind for any reason.
“I want to move in with you.”
I see his eyes widen for a second and I can almost guess what he is thinking. I think about it for just a second, and I know I wouldn’t mind what it would mean for us to live together. But that’s not the reason I am offering to move in.
“To help with Maddie and all that stuff.” I clarify.
To his credit, Jacob doesn’t dismiss it out of hand, and instead, he thinks about it for a long time.
“I can’t let you do that.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off before I can get a word in edgewise.
“Not because I don’t want your company. I do appreciate your help with Maddie, but I can’t have you giving up even more time than you have already.”
I have already made up my mind, and not even wild horses could keep me away.
“Come on, Jacob. Please let me do this. I’ll keep my apartment, I’ve paid the rent up till the end of the year anyway, so I can get out of your hair if you need a break, and it can be temporary, but I need to do this.”
“Allie, trust me, I appreciate it but I don’t want you to go so much out of your way just to help me. I can manage. Trust me.”
His refusal just makes me all the more determined to do this.
“This isn’t about you,” I snap. His eyes widen, and I feel bad. “I mean, it’s not about me, either. It’s about Maddie. And… two heads are better than one.”
“Allison…”
“Please let me do this. For Emily, and Maddie. You can’t deny me this, Jacob.”
My words seem to strike a chord with him because he finally gives in. I can see it from his body, the relaxing of his muscles as he accepts.
“Okay.”
I’m going to be living with Jacob.