Page 56 of Pumped

I shake my head.

He scoffs. “And you’re always harping on us to eat healthy.” He stands and tugs me to my feet. “Come on. They kept dinner warm for us.”

Just outside the kitchen, we drop each other’s hands. I have to stop myself from snatching his back into mine. We didn’t talk about it, but I think it’s fair to say that we’re not telling our parents about us. What would we even say? I don’t even know what we are.

Everest heads to the kitchen table and slides into an empty chair next to Dad and Graham. They immediately draw him into their conversation about some sports team. Nell is chatting with Ivy while Ivy munches on green beans drenched in ketchup. Mom’s at the counter, making a few mugs of tea.

I stand at the doorway, watching.

They’re smiling and laughing. They’re comfortable and familiar with each other. There’s no question that they belong here, together, like this is the way their lives were always meant to be.

A wave of grief crashes into me and I grab the edge of the counter to keep from collapsing. My heart hammers in my chest and my lungs struggle to draw in breath.

Thoughts, dark and heavy, pile into my mind. This picture of a beautiful family is only possible because we lost Jeremy and Eden. This life that I’ve found myself in is the result of an incredible, heartbreaking tragedy. This thing between me and Everest—for better or worse—would never have happened if Jeremy and Eden were still with us.

They should be here. Jeremy and Eden should be sitting around the kitchen table with their daughter and both sets of grandparents. They should get to talk about sports and drink tea and have silly conversations with Ivy. They should get to watch Ivy grow up.

But they’re not here. And they’re not coming back. The life I knew—the lives we all had—is over. Forever. We’ll never be able to turn back the clock. We can only move forward.

A strangled cry tries to escape my throat. I manage to stifle it, but Mom hears. One glance is all she needs to know what I’m thinking.

“Oh, sweetie.” She comes to me, drawing me into her arms. “I know.”

I don’t trust myself to speak. I’m exhausted and my defenses are weak, leaving me an emotional mess. If I open my mouth now, I’ll completely fall apart.

“We all wish they were here,” Mom says, her own voice a little unsteady. “It’s not fair, is it? Why them? Why not me? They still had their whole lives ahead of them. I’ve already lived mine.”

Her words are a dagger straight through my heart. “Mom.” I draw away to look at her, grief and guilt filling me. God knows I’ve had similar thoughts but hearing them from my mother drives home how horrifying they are. “Don’t say that. You still have a lot of life to live.”

There are tears in her eyes. She swipes at them, but a couple trail down her cheeks. Her lips curl into a sad smile. “I know. But sometimes…”

I pull her back into a hug. “I know.”

“It’s so hard.”

“Yeah, it is.”

The quiet chatter dies away and suddenly the silence sounds so loud. Everyone at the kitchen table is watching me and Mom. Ivy’s curled against Nell’s side, hugging Zuzi to her chest. There are tears in her eyes and in Nell’s too.

Everest blinks and sniffles. Graham and Dad are stoic and grave.

Keeping one arm around Mom, I lead her toward the family—my family. It’s incomplete, but it’s still whole. For Jeremy and Eden’s sake, we have to live the lives they’ll never be able to live. We have to carry on in their stead.

When I step up to the table, Ivy slips out from under Nell’s arm and reaches for me. I gather her to me, taking the empty chair next to Everest, and settle her into my lap. Mom brings the steaming mugs of tea to the table—one for Nell and one for her. She takes the seat Ivy vacated.

A beat passes in silence.

Under the table, Everest places his hand on my knee. For a moment, I consider ignoring it or even shaking him off, but then, as with everything, I give in. There’s no use resisting it anymore, is there? We’re past the point of denial and we can only move forward. I cover Everest’s hand with mine.

After another minute, I finally manage to string words into a sentence. My voice is rough when I speak. “They would be happy to see us all gathered here.”

“They’re here too,” Everest adds. “In spirit. In our memories.”

I give his hand a squeeze. He flips his over so we’re palm to palm and squeezes back.

We all cast sorrowful smiles at each other before Graham breaks the silence. “So, what about those Yankees, huh?”

CHAPTER

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