“Mac, my man, I'm still trying to convince Jay she needs to take me to prom.”
“Danny, it's sweet of you to want to go.”
“Jay, I'm not just being sweet. I really want to go with you, and I think you should go. It's your senior prom. It's a big deal.”
“In light of recent events,” I sigh, “it just doesn't seem like that big a deal anymore.”
“I think your parents would want you to go,” Phillip says, ganging up on me.
I start to say no again, but wonder if maybe they would want me to go. Mom shopped with me forever to find the perfect dress, she probably would be disappointed if I didn't wear it.
“Don't you think it's a little callous to go to something as frivolous as prom, so soon after my parent's death? It seems, you know, disrespectful.”
I can't. I shouldn't.
“Everyone thinks you need to start getting your life back,” Danny states.
“I don't have a life anymore.”
“Bullshit. You have lots of friends who care about you, and I'm pretty sure if you could ask your parents, they would tell you the same,” Danny says, getting slightly worked up over this.
I look at Phillip, “You agree with this?”
I thought it would never work.
He nods yes.
“Actually both Phillip's mom and my mom agree. Your parents wouldn't want you to miss it,” Danny informs me.
Then Phillip butts in, “And we're sure as hell not gonna let you go with Jake.”
Okay, now I get it. Evidently, Danny is the lesser of two evils.
“I mean come on,” Danny says, “you've got everything for it, right? Everything's already planned?”
“Yeah,” I waver.
“Great!” Danny says, then gives me a chaste, but still delicious kiss. “I've got to head back to Lincoln. Call me. Let me know how you're doing or just to talk. Anything, okay? Is there anything I can do, anything you need?”
“No, I think your mom and Mrs. Mac have thought of everything.”
And they have.
I owe those ladies big. But I know they did everything, not just for me, but also for my parents. They loved them too, and it was their way of showing it.
“Saturday. Six o'clock. Don't keep me waiting,” Danny says with a grin as he leaves.
Phillip goes back in the house to get a drink. I look across the street at my house. The lights are on, and I'm drawn to it like a moth. I halfway feel like I can just run over there, bang open the door and hear my dad yell at me. So I run home, bang the door, and hear nothing but silence.
I look at the kitchen and can practically see my memories.
Me sitting up on the counter, helping Mom mix a special chocolate cake for Daddy's birthday. I can't wait to lick the left over batter off the beaters.
Mom and I making sugar cookies at Christmas, while Dad sets up the tree.
I turn my back on the memories and run up the stairs to Mom and Dad's room. There, more memories come rushing into my mind.
Bringing Mom breakfast in bed on Mother's Day. I tried to surprise her, but I had to tell her to stay in bed. I made her peanut butter toast and milk, although I think I ate most of it.
Me running and diving under their covers at bedtime because I wanted to sleep with them and not in my own bed. Daddy would pretend he couldn't find me. He'd bounce on the bed, grab under the covers and tickle me silly. Then I would jump on his back and get a piggyback ride to my room.
Me lying in bed sick with the chicken pox, getting to watch TV all day, while eating crackers and drinking 7up.
Mom and me playing cards and watching movies.
Mom and Dad telling me to come snuggle up between them when I had a bad dream.
I feel like I'm in a bad dream right now. I close my eyes.
I think I've become a memory junkie.
Even though the memories make me want to cry, they also make me feel warm inside, and I like the feeling. I go sit on the floor of Dad's closet, watching him in my mind, getting dressed in his tuxedo. He looked so handsome that night. Mom running over to get the back of her dress zipped up. I love the way he kissed her on her neck and told her she looked beautiful and how she blushed. They seemed so in love.
I grab one of Dad's big flannel shirts and put it on over my blouse. I've worked so hard throughout this whole ordeal to maintain control, to keep it together, to represent my family proudly, to be tough and hold it all in.
I can't do it any longer.
I run back into their room, throw myself across their big bed, and lose it.
I mean totally, completely, lose it.
I breakdown, and cry, and sob, and wail, like I've never done before. I have never, ever, hurt so much. I didn't even think it was possible to feel this much pain.
You'd think eventually my tears would run out, but they don't. I just cry, and cry and cry.
And cry.
I'm startled by a noise, flip around and see Phillip staring down at me.
He sits on the bed and shakes his head at me, as he gathers me into his arms. “I wondered when you'd finally lose it.”
I can't seem to choke out a response, so I just bury my head into his shirt and sob.
On Friday morning, I wake up feeling groggy. Finally took that sleeping pill.
I glance over at the clock and see it's nearly ten, so I go downstairs to the kitchen.
On the breakfast bar, I find a note from Phillip's mom.
It says, Had some errands to run. Back by two.
Four hours by myself.
What am I going to do?
Normally, I would relish having four hours of peace and quiet, or I would call and have Jake come over, but now? Well, Jake, although he did come to the visitation and was very polite, isn't an option, and I don't think I can relish the quiet.
I'll just feel lonely and start thinking about my parents.
Plus, I'm feeling edgy. Like I need to do something.
Like I can't sit here alone.
Maybe I'll go to school today. At least there's always a lot going on there. I've been feeling edgy since the funeral. It's weird, when I'm at home, home being Phillip's house for the time being, I feel like I need to go and do something. Then when I get there, all I want to do is come home. I feel like I should be out looking for something.
Unfortunately, I'm afraid what I'm looking for can't be found.
I can't have my parents back.
If I hurry and get ready, I can be at school in time for AP English. It's my favorite class. We've been reading the book, Our Town, in it. The main character, Elizabeth, dies, but she doesn't want to leave the living. One of the most important lines in the book, the one I quoted at the funeral is, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it - every, every minute?” The quote is Elizabeth's way of saying we should put more emphasis on the value of daily life. After dying, she finds out that life's not just about special events or occasions. It's about seeing the wonder in daily life and not wasting opportunities.
You know, like stopping to smell the roses.
I wonder if I have been too busy living life.
Did I take my parents for granted? Probably, a bit. But as we tried to show at the funeral, my parent's philosophy on life had been to work hard and play hard. And we always did. Even when we were working on a project, like staining the fence, which is a really horrible job, we had fun. My parents always did a lot with me. Dad helped coach my soccer and basketball teams and always had time to play with me in the back yard. Mom stayed at home, and there were often warm cookies and milk waiting for me when I got home from school. I loved coming in the door after school and trying to guess what she had baked, based on the smell. She always talked to me about my day and gave me great big hugs for no reason. And they both told me they loved me, a lot. I think they lived life fully.