“You didn’t, Ace. You didn’t lose everything. We’re still here for you, and we love you. We love you so, so much,” Kendall says. Her hand runs through my hair and I feel her body wrap around my back as Kyle holds me closer.
“He left and my world left with him. I lost Max, and Mom, and my freaking sanity.”
“You didn’t lose me, baby.” The quiet voice makes the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end.
I turn to face her and my lungs constrict even more at the familiar sight of my mom before I drown in the familiar scent of perfume, hair spray, and makeup as she holds me with what feels like every ounce of her strength. I begin to cry even harder. I’d just proclaimed my independence as a grown adult, yet I’m sobbing into my mother’s neck, letting her cradle me like a child, because I really need her comfort and her protection. I’ve needed it for a while now.
She holds me without loosening her grip for a very long time, kissing the side of my face and stroking my back and my hair as she repeatedly tells me how sorry she is and how much she loves me.
Somehow, having my mom here with me makes seeing my dad a little easier, but only by very thin threads. Pulling into the parking lot of the cemetery, my entire chest aches with the desire to cry and the need to remain strong.
My mom’s aware of my fear of death—it’s nothing new—however, I can tell by looking at just the tightness of her hands that this is just as hard for her to be here, so I resolve to be strong for her.
I’ve only been here once since we buried him and that was to see him before I left for Delaware ten months ago, yet my feet know the most direct path to him. I would know the route even if I had waited twenty years to return.
I stop when we get within several feet, and his large headstone blurs as I stare at it amongst the sea of other plaques and headstones surrounding us.
My mom grips my hand, and it’s almost painful because my fingers are already clenched, refusing to relax and intertwine around hers. But she somehow manages to force hers between mine, and then leads me so that we stand in front of his grave.
Except for the sounds of some birds chirping, and the soft rustle of the wind, it’s silent. Kitty and I have begrudgingly discussed this moment several times. The purpose of visiting a loved one once they’ve passed, the therapy behind speaking to and acknowledging them. She’s encouraged me to remember the happy moments and allow them to fill me so the grief and sadness can dissipate. She told me that when I got here, I should just talk to him. Talk like he’s actually here, listening to me, because for all we know, he really is.
I take a few practiced breaths and slowly lick my lips that have gone dry from breathing too hard. “Hi, Dad,” I say softly. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long.” My eyes blur to the point I can’t see anything through the kaleidoscope of tears that fall the second I hear my mom suck in a deep breath and release it with a pained cry.
I realize that regardless of the times that I’ve thought, and rehearsed this moment, nothing could have prepared me for actually being here. Nothing can prepare you for so many things life throws at you. Sometimes you have to stop planning for every possible outcome and reaction, and just experience it. Be present.
We cry painful tears that leave us both weak and exhausted before we head back to her house.
“I don’t want to go in there, Mom. I’m sorry. I just can’t see Steven. I just can’t.”
“He moved out.”
I turn to look at her in shock and she nods solemnly. “I needed Steven when your father passed away. Not in a romantic sense,” she says, shaking her head as though she’s trying to eradicate the past. “I’ve been with your father since I was eighteen. I thought if I was alone, grieving, I’d never make it. I didn’t know how to live without him.” The edges of her lips turn down and her chin quivers as tears roll down her cheeks. “I still don’t know how to live without him. Your daddy was my whole world for so long.”
I reach across the middle console and attempt to hold her as she cries again, offering her some support through my touch.
“I’m so sorry I pushed you away, Ace. I need you. I need all you girls.”
We don’t discuss Steven in much detail over the evening, but my cheeks redden and my heart sighs when she divulges that she never slept with him. She tells me that she’s pretty certain Steven knew all along that she wasn’t going to be able to go through with things, but offered to continue helping and supporting her any way he could. Which it turns out consisted of living in the guest room and helping to establish a new schedule and routine, combing over finances, and learning about who took care of the yard, the pool, and other things that my dad had always handled.
I wake up beside my mom on the couch in the basement. She’s still fast asleep from our hours of stories and tears from last night. The tears had eventually transitioned to mostly happy ones as she shared old memories of my dad, several of which I had already heard but still enjoyed, and a good number that I never had. I had listened to her words, but also her tone as she recounted stories that expressed her love for my dad.
Upstairs, I hear the front door open and get up to see who’s arrived and discover Kyle carrying a large vase of flowers followed by Caulder with a matching bouquet.
“Hey.” Kyle looks at me over the flowers, and although a lot of things feel like they were in some ways resolved yesterday, I can see others weren’t as his eyes shift with unease.
“Hey,” I say softly before looking to Caulder and smiling.
Caulder gives me a warm smile in return and quietly excuses himself after setting the vase on the kitchen table to go get another from the driveway.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving, and for being so closed off. But I’m really sorry for what I said yesterday. You are my brother, Kyle, and you’ve been a part of this family forever.” I confirm, not wanting to allow any more things to go unsaid. I’ve done too much of that in the last year. “I love you, and I was never trying to hurt you, or anyone. I…”
“I love you too, Ace.” Kyle interrupts my words and engulfs me in a hug. “We all knew you weren’t trying to hurt us. It just hurt because we all love you so much and miss having you around, but we want you to do what’s best for you.”
I’ve already realized that it wasn’t just my world that exploded last May. I know that everyone feels the loss and repercussions of my father’s death. Some that didn’t know him very well or weren’t a part of his daily life were able to recover much faster, while others worked to use their grief as a reminder to never take a breath for granted, and some of us, like my mom and me, scrambled to find even ground to stand on—but we all felt that day. It marked us all. What I realize now, standing in front of Kyle, is that I was never alone in this fight. I just had forgotten to look around.
I kiss Kyle’s cheek before sliding out of his truck and waving to him. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” he calls before backing out of the driveway.
I take the few steps to the front door, thinking of what I need to do. Calling Fitz is at the top of my list. I’ve been terrible at touching base with him all week, and I’m sure he’s worried. The driveway and street are filled with cars, and I head up the porch steps hoping to slink in and shower before anyone notices me. I feel like I’ve spent the last forty-eight hours crying and know it shows on my face. The living room is filled with voices and bodies, but no one stops me.
I pause before reaching the hallway and turn. My eyes sweep over the group to ensure my ears didn’t lie. A strange cry that starts out as a squeal and ends with laughter erupts and my arms fly around Fitz with enough impact that I feel his body sway.
“What are you doing here?” I cry, pulling back and looking over his familiar features that are turned up in a smile.
“I came to surprise you.”