18. Lara
Raindrops land on the white and pink roses on my sister”s coffin, making each petal jump as the water touches it.
Amanda would”ve loved these. White and pink were her favorite. And I insisted Amanda have them, no matter what.
This isn”t real!That she”s in that box about to go into the earth… it”s a terrible nightmare. I”m screaming to open my eyes, but it never happens. My eyes are open, and the reality is that my sister is gone.
She”s dead.
I blink back the sting of tears, trying to keep it together.
There”s a bunch of people sitting in the chairs behind us, and the last thing I want is to be overly emotional in front of everyone.
Papa is a complete wreck, bowing his head and staring at the ground like a zombie.
But not Mother.
I glance at her with a side-eye.
She”s looking straight ahead, without emotion, and hiding behind a pair of wide-rimmed black sunglasses. She”s more like an alien. She hasn”t spoken a word to me today. Or yesterday.
My father takes my hand and squeezes. Mother is on his other side, and he takes her hand, too. I look at our joined hands and notice his tanned and roughened skin. He”s solid and tough, just like Amanda was.
Now she”s gone and leaving a massive crater in the middle of our family—a big black hole.
The pastor finishes and invites people to say a few words. I should go up, but I can”t. It”s just too sad when someone this young dies.
Everyone here is much gloomier than if the person who died was ninety-five and had a long life with a hundred grandchildren left behind.
It isn”t every day you go to the funeral of a young girl who had her entire life ahead of her.
There are a few moments of awkward silence among the crowd. No one stands up. I close my eyes and try not to think about how furious my mother must be. But then one of Amanda”s teachers approaches the podium and says a few words. Then, our family doctor tells a story about when she was born. I let out a silent sigh of relief. Thank goodness people went up. Mother would make everyone stay and wait until someone spoke.
A few other people say nice things, but I”m not listening.
I keep watching the raindrops fall on the rose petals. It”s soothing in a way, and it”s helping to keep me grounded.
I want this to be over.
The rain comes down in a steady stream now. Goosebumps form on my bare arms, but I don”t feel cold. I decided to wear this black dress with short sleeves and white trim around the hem. Mother hates it, but I don”t care.
Now, it”s time for one of the women from the church choir to come up and sing. I know we”re getting close to the end, and I couldn”t be more ready for this to end. But then I start thinking about the wake back at the house and how I”m going to have to stand there while people hug me and say they”re sorry for my loss.
I”d rather chew glass than suffer through that.
The woman walks to the podium and sings the first hymn of Amazing Grace. Papa brings a tissue to his face. Mother is staying stoic.
Her lips are pursed, and her back is as straight as a ninety-degree angle. My dad still holds onto her hand, but she barely acknowledges his presence.
The woman does sing beautifully, but I want her to be done. Just get through those last few lines and be done.
I hang my head, trying to ignore the throbbing. Maybe everyone will think I”m deep in prayer.
The last few words of the song end, and I open my eyes to see the pastor stepping back to the podium. He says a few closing words, then invites everyone to the house for the wake. Chairs shuffle behind me, and people stand up. Umbrellas open as people walk through the cemetery toward their vehicles.
I”m still fixated on the roses and flinch when my dad pats my hand and startles me from my daze.
”Time to go back,” he tells me. ”People will be arriving at the house.”
”I”ll get a ride with Parker.” I”m unsure if he”s still here, but I remember seeing him sitting in the back. ”You go ahead.”
”It would be better to go as a family.”
”She doesn”t want to,” Mother says, grabbing my dad”s arm. ”Just let her stay.”
She pulls him away before he can say another word, and he hastily opens the umbrella just before they can step out from under the tent. After they climb inside the limousine and shut the door, I return to the coffin and the roses.
”Hey.” Dylan sits next to me.
”I thought you”d have left by now.”
He shakes his head. ”Aunt Mary and Uncle Malcolm left with Carter. I”ve got the truck here. Do you need a ride back?”
”No, she doesn”t.” Parker slides into the chair on my other side and takes my hand. ”She”s coming with me.”
”I”m not coming with anyone,” I tell both of them. ”I want to sit here for a couple minutes?—”
Parker squeezes my hand. ”Everyone”s waiting for you back at the house.”
I close my eyes, hoping they don”t say another word. Thankfully, they stay quiet for the next two minutes, and all I can hear is the rain.
”Your parents are waiting,” Parker says after a while.
”They”re not waiting for me.”
”What do you want to do, then?” Dylan asks. ”If you don”t want to go home, where do you want to go?”
”She”s going home.” Parker leans forward and eyeballs Dylan.
”You know… right before Amanda”s birthday—” I close my eyes and lean back in the chair. ”We went camping. My dad made sure we had everything we needed. We weren”t going far, just out in the backyard for the night. We roasted hot dogs and ate so many s”mores we felt sick. And then we lay in the grass and watched the stars. There were so many of them… You can see the whole universe when you”re out there at night. Amanda knew so many more constellations than I did. We must”ve stayed up half the night looking at those stars. And in the morning, she told me it was her best birthday ever. But when we returned to the house, Mother insisted on giving her a proper party, with a cake, presents, and streamers. I remember thinking Amanda didn”t want any of that, even though she acted like she did for my mother”s sake. At least she got what she wanted when we were camping. At least she had that before coming home and making my mother happy.”
Neither guy says anything as I open my eyes. Dylan smiles warmly at me, but Parker looks awkwardly down to the ground.
”We should get going, Lara,” Parker says. ”My parents are going to be at your folks”. They”ll be expecting me to be there.”
Dylan stands. ”I”m going to head over, too. I”ll see you there?”
Parker stands and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. ”Let”s go.”
”Yeah,” I tell Dylan. ”You”ll see me there.”
Parker pulls up to my house and parks in the grass on the side of the driveway. There”s a bunch of vehicles up and down the road, and I see the front door open as people walk inside. At this point, the rain is nothing more than a sprinkle, and I turn down Parker”s offer of his umbrella. I don”t care if my hair turns into one giant frizz ball or if my mascara starts to run. This isn”t a party, and I don”t care about my appearance.
Walking up the driveway, I hear Dylan”s truck pulling beside us. I feel Parker”s hand on my lower back, urging me to hurry up the drive. He wants to get inside before Dylan, so he looks like the hero who dragged me away from my sister”s grave.
Stepping inside the house, I”m immediately overwhelmed. Half a dozen people pass by and pat my arm or hug me, letting me know how sorry they are.
”I”m going upstairs,” I whisper to Parker. ”I want to be alone for a while.”
”You can”t do that,” he whispers back. ”People are looking for you.”
”Where have you been?” Mother waltzes out of the hallway from the kitchen with a platter of hors d”oeuvres.
What”s she even doing with those?
”I expected you to be right behind us, Lara. Today is not the day for you to be late.” She thrusts the platter toward my chest. ”Take these into the dining room.”
I listen to the click-clack of her heels as she heads back to the kitchen. Looking down at the tray, I”m not sure what”s on it… little pieces of toast with some spread.
”Who does she think is going to eat this?” I whisper to Parker. ”This isn”t a cocktail party.”
Parker grabs one of the pieces of toast and pops it into his mouth. ”Kinda like ground-up olives.”
”Can you take this?” I ask him. ”I need a glass of water.”
Parker looks annoyed at my request, but he takes the tray. Once he walks away, the condolences start, and the overwhelming feeling returns. I quickly thank everyone and return to the kitchen, where Mother stands at the stove, stirring something.
She scowls at me. ”Did you take the tray into the dining room?”
”Parker did.” I sit on one of the barstools next to the counter. For some reason, the room is spinning. Sweat forms on my brow, and my chest tightens. ”I”m not feeling well.”
”That”s too bad,” she tells me. ”Today is not for you.”
I lean over the counter as my breathing becomes heavy.
I was fine a minute ago, and now it”s like I”m having a panic attack.
I need out of here.
I want to go somewhere where I can be alone.
”Are you listening?” Mother turns back to the stove. ”Get up and do something. You”re no good to anyone just sitting there.”
I clutch my chest and close my eyes, trying to get my breathing to return to normal. ”I need a minute?—”
”Today is not about you,” she cries out, slamming her hand on the countertop beside the stove. ”Get out of this kitchen… I can”t stand the sight of you!”
At that moment, Dylan shows up. ”Hey, are you okay?”
I shake my head, trying not to hyperventilate.
He wraps his arm around my shoulders. ”Let”s go out back.”
My legs are weird and rubbery, and I lean on him for support as he guides me to the back door. My mother mutters to herself in rapid, angry French as we go. Dylan closes the door behind us and leads me to a patio chair.
”What happened?” He pulls up the next chair and sits. ”You”re white as a ghost.”
”I don”t know. Something about the people and my mother… I started to panic.”
Dylan takes his suit jacket off and drapes it across my shoulders. Even though I”m a little shaky, I hand it back to them. ”I don”t need it.”
”It”s chilly.”
”I”ll manage.”
He frowns. ”You don”t have to be like that. It”s just me. You can tell me what”s bothering you.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. ”Seriously?”
At that moment, Parker opens the back door and steps out. He looks at me, then at Dylan. ”What the hell is going on out here?”
”Nothing,” I spit out. ”Everything is fine.”
He glares at Dylan. ”I bet it is.”
”I”m taking care of her,” Dylan tells him. ”Which is a hell of a lot more than you”re doing.”
”Seriously?” I shoot out of the chair. ”I don”t need to be taken care of by you, Dylan. Or by anyone!”
Parker steps toward me. ”Lara?—”
I hold up a hand. ”Back off. I need to go… I need a few damn minutes of peace.” I turn in the opposite direction and stalk off, trying to ignore how my heels sink into the wet ground. With a groan, I stop, pull them off and throw them. I don”t know where I”m going, but it”s as far away from this house as possible.
I can”t deal with this.
My sister is gone, and nothing is ever going to make sense. Ever again.
Parker calls out behind me, but I ignore him. I don”t care if this looks bad. I don”t care if anyone sees me leaving like a crazy person. I don”t fucking care.
And Mother—after what she said—there”s no way I”m setting foot in that house anytime soon. Make this day about me?
Is she insane?
She”s hurting. But I”m hurting. And if she blames me for what happened to Amanda… then I don”t know how we”ll get past that.
Everything is just one big, giant, fucking mess.