Chapter 3 Nova
NOVA
UNTIL I SEE YOU NEXT TIME
“Come on, sweetie.” Alicia, a lady I work with down at the bank, wanders through my kitchen and sets an empty cup in the sink before coming around to face me.
I sit at the counter and stare at… well, nothing. The bland tiles. The clean countertop. The world my brother no longer exists in. The future where I’m all alone.
Just me. This house. A million memories and just… nothing.
In the silence, she ducks lower and forces herself into my line of sight. “We have to go, Nov. It starts in a little over an hour, and the funeral director wanted to talk to you before guests arrive.”
Alicia Santiago is my colleague. My friend.
But we’re not outside-work friends. We don’t hang out except during those thirty-eight paid hours a week.
We don’t go to each other’s houses, and we especially don’t buy groceries or call each other sweetie.
But I guess this is an all-new week, and with it, the beginnings of an all-new world.
Nothing is how it was before.
“Nova?”
“Yeah.” My voice is scratchy from disuse.
My knees, wobbly as I slide off my stool and come around it to push it in.
Nibbling on the inside of my cheek and twisting to consider what’s next, I feel the cold, heavy weight of my brother’s dog tag hanging around my neck, hidden beneath my dress. It’s only for me to know about.
Only me.
“Have you thought more about seeing Doctor Rosario?” Alicia slides her arm around mine and walks me toward the back door.
I’d rather turn into the hall and go to my room.
Back to bed.
Back to the quiet, where no one demands I speak or act a certain way.
Like grieving is frowned upon, and sadness is an emotion we’re supposed to run from.
The doctors want me to get better, and the police grill me for more information about something I’m still confused about.
Dr. Rosario listens—really listens—but everyone else seems to think they need to fix me. To make me smile.
“Nova, honey? I asked you—”
“Doctor Rosario.” I step through the door and move toward the stairs, but when I stop at the top and automatically tap my shoes against the hardwood, fresh tears spring to my eyes and blur my vision.
“I saw Doctor Rosario,” I murmur, pushing the words along my painfully dry throat. “Yesterday. He’s nice.”
“Oh, good!” Too loud, too positive, she leads me down the stairs to the dirt at the bottom.
Opening her car door, Alicia thinks she’s helping me in, when really, her fussing hands and flailing arm are nothing more than a nuisance.
But she wants to help, and I’m too tired to nurse her feelings if I end up hurting them.
“I’ve got it.” I reach around and grab my seatbelt. “Thank you.”
My head hasn’t stopped aching for a week. My skull, sensitive to touch since I was dragged out of my dad’s truck. There’s no blood on my neck anymore, but I have a gash behind my ear that reminds me every single day where the crimson warmth came from.
Eleven stitches and an itchy wound heal faster than my heart. Evidently.
“Edwin and the rest of the team are coming today.” Alicia climbs in on the driver’s side, her honeyed perfume wafting across and teasing my senses. In another lifetime, I might’ve smiled and complimented her on the scent. I’ve always liked her penchant for things that smell pretty.
But I don’t live in that world anymore. I don’t even exist in that lifetime.
So I hold my breath and think of engine grease instead. The scent of freshly chopped wood. Even the smell of burning rubber. I prefer those.
“Edwin closed the bank until later,” she chatters, starting the car and taking us toward town.
I could do this myself. I’d prefer to do it myself. But Edwin is like a sheepdog, bounding around his little lambs and yapping to keep us safe. And Alicia is, well, I suppose she’s the poor soul sent to escort me to my only brother’s funeral.
“He said we could go out for a drink or a meal or whatever after. If you’re up to it. I think it might be nice if you—”
“No, thank you,” I cut in, my voice crackling with every syllable. “I have stuff to do around the house. I’m back at work tomorrow, so I want to relax tonight.”
“Which is pretty much what I told him you’d say.
” She pulls one hand off the steering wheel, glancing across like she intends to place it on my arm, or my leg, or God knows, pat me on the head or something.
But when my eyes fly to the steering wheel and my jaw clenches tight, she takes the hint and places it back down again.
I’m not worried about crashing. I don’t have a car PTSD thing going on.
I just don’t want her to touch me.
“Can I bring you takeout and a movie instead?” Her knuckles turn white from the pressure of her fingers gripping the wheel. “I could stay. Or leave. I could even drop the food off, knock, and run. You don’t have to see me.”
“No,” I repeat, sniffling and reaching up to swipe my nose. “But I appreciate your offer.”
“I know you want to be alone.” She brings glittering, tear-filled eyes across and stops on mine. “I’d prefer the same. But you’re out here all alone, Nov. And with Ryan’s d—”
She can’t say it.
Ryan’s death.
Ryan is dead.
“It’s all so fresh,” she rasps. “It breaks my heart to think of you isolating yourself.”
“We cope how we cope.” I check both sides of the intersection as we approach, then I check again to make doubly sure. No SUVs pull up on either side. None behind us or in front.
Alicia, being the intuitive, kind friend she is, waits for my nod before setting her foot on the gas again and continuing past the lights.
“I’ll be in the office tomorrow.” I breathe a little easier once we’re on the other side and the lights turn yellow in the rearview mirror.
“I’ll be with people tomorrow, and we both know half of Mount Gaines’ residents will swing by just to be nosy.
I’m choosing silence for tonight.” Finally, I bring my eyes back to the front, then across to study my friend.
“Doctor Rosario gave me his number and permission to call if I need to talk.”
“And you have mine too.” She exhales a shuddering breath and pulls right, onto a dirt driveway leading into a cemetery that takes up a couple of acres of lush green lawn and pristine headstones, colorful flowers, and—
I gasp. “I forgot to bring flowers!” I swing around in my chair, panic and grief scorching my veins. “Alicia! I didn’t remember!”
“Don’t worry about it.” She places her hand on my arm, squeezing just tight enough to give me something new to focus on, and though she searches my gaze, the car only rolls at a snail’s pace of five miles per hour.
Because that’s what you do once you drive onto property like this.
“Edwin’s task today was to secure flowers for everyone.
And knowing you might not have thought to buy any of your own, I gave him a list and ensured you were on it. ”
“Really?” The closer we come to the crowd already surrounding Ryan’s plot, the heavier my heart grows.
The clearer the shiny black hearse comes to my vision, the faster my pulse sprints.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes and clog in my throat until air struggles to whistle through the minuscule gap left behind.
So, I concentrate on breathing. On filling my lungs, just like my brother reminded me to back when I was a teen and thought I might suffocate from my grief at our parents’ passing.
The same way he instructed after forcing me to run five miles through the unoccupied land surrounding our home.
He taught me to fight—as best a man can teach, I suppose, with limited time—and then how to open my diaphragm so I wouldn’t undo my hard work with a lack of oxygen.
Carefully, Alicia pulls off to the side when we’re as close as we’re going to get.
She cuts the engine, and with it, the soft melody of a country song I hadn’t even noticed was playing on the radio until its absence.
Unsnapping her seatbelt, she reaches across and takes my shaking hands between hers.
“I promise, Nov. You’ll have flowers for your big brother.
And then we’re going to tell him we love him.
You’ll read what you’ve written, and then we’ll say goodbye. ”
“I’m not ready.” Fiery hot tears stream from my eyes, burning tracks along my cheeks until the heat makes my skin tingle. “I’ve already done this before. I already buried my parents. I can’t—”
“Yes.” She digs her nails into my palm and provides me with a new pain to focus on. A new sting to reroute the receptors in my brain. “You don’t get a choice, Nov. You can’t avoid this. Which means you have to boss up. Ryan would tell you to suck it up, wouldn’t he? Toughen up and get through.”
“Embrace the suck,” I choke out, swiping my face clear with my shoulder. “That’s what he used to say. Embrace it, because it’s better than feeling nothing.”
“Exactly.” She twists her hands until her fingers point toward the ceiling, like in prayer, but she holds mine between them and blows warm air onto my fingertips. “He’s watching over you now. He’s up there with your mom and dad, and they’re all looking down to see how you handle a sucky day.”
“I don’t know how to do it,” I whimper, my head pounding and my throat aching.
“I don’t know how to live now that I’m just me.
That’s all that’s left, Alicia. Me. How can an entire bloodline die out so quickly?
How can two men who lived such dangerous lives die from something as mundane as driving? Where’s the fairness in all that?”
“Well, sometimes life just isn’t fair,” she croaks. “Sometimes, the world is really fucked up. Sometimes, God—if you believe in him—really wants to test you. And if you don’t believe, then it’s not a test at all. It’s just a really shitty, sucky, nonsensical day.”
“I don’t want to exist without Ry,” I cry. “What is even the point?”
“You are the point.” She reaches across with a shaky hand and slides her thumb beneath my eye.
“They loved you so much, Nova. They adored you. Giving up is exactly what they don’t want.
And sure,” her voice crackles, “things are going to feel crappy for a while. You’re gonna flail and search for sense.
And maybe you’ll rage-weed your garden, or tear down a wall, or ignore everything and binge-watch all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls.
Maybe you’ll do none of those things, or all of those things, or something completely different while you’re searching for the point.
But eventually, this feeling, this emptiness, will go away, and the days when it hurts will become fewer and fewer.
Someday, you’ll look up and realize it’s not so painful anymore. ”
“But…”
“When that day comes, when life isn’t as heavy, I want you to call me.
” She cups my cheek. “I want to share in your sunshine again, Nova. Because I don’t know if you know, but that’s what you provide those of us who aren’t you.
Those of us whose names aren’t Nichols. We bathe in your sunlight and crave the next time we get to be near. ”
“You’re laying it on thick now.” I cough out a pathetic laugh and pull free of her grip so I can swipe my cheeks clean. “You’re being too nice.”
“Or maybe you don’t see yourself the way the rest of us do.
I’ve met your brother, what? Twice? Three times in my entire life?
” She nods toward the crowd of mourners waiting outside, just fifty feet away.
“Some of them knew him. A lot of them didn’t.
But they’re here for you, Nov. Because we love you.
Because you matter so freakin’ much. Now come on.
” She drags her knuckles beneath my eye, cleaning a line of mascara and wiping the smudge on her black pants.
But her smile is beautiful and sweet. It’s kind and pure and everything I need to give me the strength to climb out of this car.
“Embrace the suck. Maybe even tell your brother you’re mad at him for bailing too soon. ”
“I’m so mad at him. Furious!”
“Hold on to that energy.” She turns to her door and opens it wide, climbing out and wandering around the hood of her little gray sedan.
Embrace the suck, Nova.
With my heart pounding and my throat squeezing the life out of me, I tear the sun visor down and check my makeup one last time. Then, twisting to my door, I push it open and prepare to say goodbye to my hero.
Until I see you next time.