Chapter 7
SADIE
“Thank you so much for coming,” I say to Mrs. Richenbaugh as I walk her to my best friend’s car. Autumn was nice enough to pick up Mrs. Richenbaugh this morning and drive her to the funeral so she could pay her respects to Tate. She always had a soft spot in her heart for my brother, even though she kicked him out of seventh and eighth-grade choir at least twice a week. But that’s what was so great about Tate—you could never stay mad at him for long.
“It was a beautiful service.” She squeezes my hand as I help her into the passenger side.
“It really was.” Autumn opens the driver’s door and takes a seat.
I don’t shut the door on Mrs. Richenbaugh because she’s still holding my hand.
“Did I tell you I’m getting surgery on my hip next week? I’ll be out for two months.”
“Yes, you did tell me that.” Autumn and I exchange small smiles because Mrs. Richenbaugh keeps reminding us of her surgery even though she’s here for Tate.
“I’m the music director for A Dickens Christmas, but I won’t be able to go to the practices, and there’s no one to sub for me. How will we be ready for the festival in December with me gone? Everyone knows A Dickens Christmas is the biggest holiday event in the Finger Lakes.”
Autumn gently takes Mrs. Richenbaugh by the arm, slowly pulling her hand away from mine. “If I weren’t in school, I’d come back to Skaneateles just for two months to be your substitute.”
Mrs. Richenbaugh turns her head to Autumn. “You always did have a beautiful voice. Who do I need to talk to, to fly you in?”
Autumn gestures for me to close the door while she’s distracted. “We’ll talk about it on the drive to your house.”
“Thanks for coming, Mrs. Richenbaugh.” I shut the door and step back from the car, waving as Autumn reverses.
“Can you believe she came?”
I turn over my shoulder as Stetson wraps his arm around me. There’s no denying he looks handsome today in his black suit with a faint gray pinstripe running through it. His dark hair is cut short around his neck and ears and slicked back in the front—very dashing and distinguished. That’s always how I describe him.
Since I’ve been home, we’ve slipped back into our usual interactions. I don’t know what it means, and I don’t care to figure it out. Now isn’t the time to have a deep relationship talk with everything else going on.
“Mrs. Richenbaugh loved Tate,” I explain. “She even visited him after his football injury.”
“I know. I just meant she only leaves her house for choir practice. It was nice of Autumn to pick her up and bring her to the church.”
“Is everyone almost gone?” I shift under Stetson’s arm so my body faces his.
“All that’s left is your family.”
I close my eyes, pressing my forehead into his chest. “They are the people I don’t want to see right now. I think I’ll stay at Autumn’s house again tonight.”
“I don’t understand the blame you’re putting on your parents. What happened to Tate was not their fault.”
I whip my head up. “How can you even say that?”
Stetson gently caresses my cheek. “I know how much you idolized Tate. You would never think anything bad about him. But he had an addiction, Sadie, and he hid it from everyone. That’s not your parents' fault.”
“You act like he was some lowlife shooting up cocaine. He just got in trouble with pain meds, which my parents put him on and kept him on so that he could make a quick recovery and play football in college. They should’ve seen the signs. If my dad wasn’t always harping on Tate about his life choices, he would’ve seen the signs.”
“None of us saw them.”
His words hit hard, forcing tears into my eyes. “Are you saying the same thing my dad did? That if I hadn’t gone to Chicago for a silly internship, none of this would’ve happened? That I would’ve been here to see the signs?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and your dad shouldn’t have said it either. You were pressing him on his tough-love tactics, and he lashed out in defense about you not being here.” He sighs, rubbing the sides of my arms. “All I’m saying is that you don’t have to blame yourself or your parents. Despite how it all got started, Tate was the one addicted to painkillers and lied to everyone about it for years. What was your dad supposed to do when he found him stealing money from him last week?”
“Help him!” I shrug out of Stetson’s arms, backing away. “He could’ve paid for Tate to go to rehab and get clean instead of kicking him out on the street. A little compassion would’ve gone a long way. But no matter what Tate did, it was never enough for my dad.”
“I just think you’re being too hard on your parents. They did the best they could with the information they had. They wouldn't have tried tough love if they knew how it would end.”
“I just…” I shake my head, wiping an unwanted tear. “I just don’t think I can forgive them for turning their backs on Tate when he needed them the most.”
“Is your anger all about Tate, or could some of it be about your dad not wanting you to move to Chicago?”
“They are two entirely separate things.”
“Are they? Or are you blaming your dad because he blamed you first by throwing the internship in your face when you were at an all-time low?”
“No, that’s not why I’m mad. I don’t know why we’re still talking about the internship. I already moved to Chicago. It’s a non-issue.”
“Not to me.”
“Are we really going to have this fight right now?” Of all the days, Stetson has to choose Tate’s funeral to bring up my moving to Chicago.
“I guess I just thought, after a month and a half of you being gone, you’d realize how ridiculous this is and come home.”
“I’m not coming home. I made a commitment to Superior Health.”
“What about your commitment to your family? To me? We’re all struggling.”
“Right now, I don’t want anything to do with my family. And you broke up with me, so you don’t get to have a say in my life.”
“I shouldn’t have done that. The breakup was dumb. I just didn’t want you to go.”
“If you really love me, six months in Chicago shouldn’t change anything.”
“It doesn’t change anything. But I still don’t understand why this is so important to you.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times. I want to learn from this internship and have it on my resume.”
“You don’t need a resume!” his voice rises. “Your dad will give you his business no matter what.”
“I want to earn it!” Why is this so hard for Stetson to understand?
“Yeah, you keep saying that, but I think it’s stupid.”
“Why can’t you just be supportive?”
“I let my girlfriend put our relationship on hold and move six hundred miles away.”
“Let? You let me put our relationship on hold?” I sneer.
“That came out bad. I’m just saying, from my perspective, the internship is worthless when you can start taking over your dad’s business right now.”
“Nash knows his stuff. Every day I spend working for him, I’m taking away valuable information that will help me in the future.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that before. The few times we’ve talked on the phone, all you’ve wanted to talk about was your boss. Nash this. Nash that. Is there something going on I should be worried about? Do you have a crush on this guy or something?”
The United States military would spend millions of dollars for the level of defense I feel right now.
“How could you say that? He’s my boss.”
“I’m trying to figure out why you’re different. You’ve been this way all week.”
“My brother just died. You, of all people, know how much Tate meant to me.”
His shoulders drop in defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought any of this up right now. We’ll figure our stuff out later. None of us are handling our emotions well this week.” He extends his hand to me like an invitation to join him inside. “Come on. Let’s go patch things up with your parents.”
“I can’t forgive them, not when I know they could’ve helped Tate and didn’t.”
“I don’t agree with you on this.”
“You don’t have to.”
He shakes his head almost as if he’s disappointed. Then he turns, deciding to go back inside without me.
I feel like I can’t breathe here.
And I definitely won’t be able to breathe easier inside.
I spin around, running toward the field next to the church.
NASH
Sadie rounds the corner in a rush, colliding with my body.
Her feet trip over mine, forcing me to wrap my arms around her so she doesn’t topple to the ground. Glossy brown eyes peer up at me as I steady her against my chest, holding her to me. There’s one calm moment where I swear I see a flicker of relief in her eyes, something that says she’s happy I’m here.
Without thinking, I pull her into a hug. “I’m so sorry about your brother.”
She lets me hold her, even buries her face into my neck as she cries. I run my hand down the back of her hair over and over, comforting her. There’s nothing inappropriate about this. It’s just one person being there for another.
After a minute, she pulls out of my arms, wiping at her puffy eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m such a mess right now.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came outside to make a phone call, but when I finished, I couldn’t leave because you were in a serious conversation with Stetson. It didn’t seem like a good time to jump in and say hello.”
Her brows pinch together. “I meant, what are you doing in Skaneateles? Not outside.”
“Oh.” I shrug, embarrassed that I just admitted to eavesdropping on her private conversation. “I came to pay my respects and see how you were holding up.” I glance away from her, squinting my eyes against the fading sun. Explaining why I’m here sounds crazier than it is. I lift my shoulders, darting my gaze back to her. “It just seemed like the right thing to do. Funerals are pivotal life events.”
Her lips press into a closed-mouth smile. “I’m learning that the hard way.”
The evening sun casts the perfect glow across her face. She looks as beautiful as ever with her tear-stained cheeks, runny nose, and crying eyes.
“I’m sorry about what you just heard.” She gestures over her shoulder to where she’d been talking with Stetson. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“About what?” My tone makes light of the situation. “Your ex- boyfriend shaming you for blaming your parents for your brother’s death or the part where he accused you of something going on with me?”
“Ohhhh,” she says on a sigh. “All of it.”
“I have to say, out of all the conversations I’ve accidentally stumbled upon, that one was by far the most dramatic.”
Sadie laughs. Actually laughs. And nothing makes my heart happier.
“Do you accidentally stumble upon a lot of private conversations?” Her smile stays even as she asks the question.
“You’d be surprised. The key is hiding around corners.”
“So you weren’t making a phone call, just waiting to eavesdrop.”
“Guilty,” I joke. “Now you know my secret.”
She laughs a little more, biting back her smile until it’s gone. Her eyes meet mine, and her shoulders pull back. “Just so you know, Tate wasn’t some drugged-up loser.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m just here to offer support.”
“No, I want to.” Determination fills her gaze, and I can tell it’s important to her that I know who her brother was. “He didn’t overdose on purpose. He wouldn’t do that. He had to have taken something like fentanyl without knowing it.” She shakes her head, fighting off her rising emotion. “Tate had the biggest heart and a bright future ahead of him. He was a good guy. He just struggled with this one thing and didn’t tell anyone or get help. I’m sure he thought he could get a handle on it.”
“I know. And I can tell from his pictures and everything you said about him that no one was better.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Tears drip down her cheeks, but she quickly wisps them away with her finger. “He got injured playing football his senior year and was in a lot of pain and had a lot of surgeries. I think one thing led to another, and he couldn’t stop the meds. I didn’t know. Nobody did. I would’ve never left him and gone to Chicago if I had known what he was dealing with.” A stray tear skitters down her cheek, and I wish I could wipe it away, wipe away the pain I know she’s feeling.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I just…”—she sucks in a ragged breath—“I should’ve been there for him, but I wasn’t. And I don’t want anyone thinking badly about him, you know?”
“I know exactly what you mean.” I start walking and talking, hoping she’ll follow. “My older brother was the funniest guy I knew—the life of every party. But he had a few demons he couldn’t get past, so he drank. A lot. ” I glance to the side to make sure she’s walking with me, happy to see she is. “One year ago, we lost Nolan in a car accident that he caused. He was drunk.”
She reaches out, grabbing my forearm. “I’m so sorry, Nash. I didn’t know.”
“You wouldn’t. I don’t really talk about my brother at work, and I guess everyone’s learned not to bring him up.”
She drops her hand, and we walk silently for a few paces. “How Nolan died, or his addiction, doesn’t define who he was as a person, and neither should what your brother was dealing with.”
She blinks back a few tears, discreetly wiping what couldn’t be dismissed. “Does it get any easier?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“You might as well give it to me. I’m going to find out anyway.”
“It doesn’t get easier. You just get used to the pain constantly being there.”
“But you hide it so well. You’re always so happy.”
“Life moves on even when you don’t want it to. I’ve learned that grief and happiness happen at the same time. It doesn’t make sense. It just works—both feelings equally take up space in your mind and heart.”
“That’s why you came six hundred miles to be here.” Her sad smile breaks my heart. “You know what it feels like.”
“I do know what it feels like.”
There’s a shared pain only those who’ve lost loved ones can understand. I see it in Sadie’s eyes now—she understands my loss, and I understand hers. That’s why I came. I understand her in a new way that very few people comprehend.
Our steps slow to a stop, and she turns to face me. “I’m happy you came. It means a lot.”
“I’m happy I came too.”
She nods toward the church. “I’d introduce you to Stetson?—”
“I don’t think he’d like to meet me.” I smirk.
“Probably not.” She laughs. “And my family…well, as you heard, I’m not really speaking with them right now.”
“I didn’t come for them. I came for you.”
Our stares hold.
Desire, attraction, want, longing—every feeling I shouldn’t feel—builds inside me. I didn’t come to her brother’s funeral to make Sadie’s life harder or complicate her internship or relationship with Stetson, so I take a step back.
“I should let you go.”
“Yeah, I need to start cleaning things up.”
“Take as much time off work as you need.”
“Oh, I?—”
“I’m serious. Don’t come back until you’re ready.”
She smiles. “Thanks, Nash. You’re a good friend and boss.”
Friend and boss.
Under the current circumstances, those are the only two things I can be.