Page 106 of The Sun
“Hey,” he breathed against my ear. “I love you.”
I fisted his shirt while my legs threatened to give way. At seventeen, I hadn’t appreciated how quickly my world could be sucked into a black hole. Up until then, not being able to kiss the boy I loved seemed like the end of the world. Oh, how foolish that seemed now. As long as there was still the hope of maybe one day, the story wasn’t finished. And with my daddy, I now only had “remember the day”.
In life, there were no rewrites, no edits. Only painful rereads.
I buried my face in Elias’ shoulder, my chest burning and heaving until I couldn’t catch my breath until I wanted to scream.
“Sunny,” Elias whispered, the scent of cigarette swirling around me. “We’ve gotta go inside.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
I clung to him for a few more seconds before finally pulling away and turning around. He drew me into his side to steady me, and we walked toward the entrance packed with people whose names I didn’t know.
I glanced down as not to meet the pity on everyone’s face. I didn’t want to talk to them. I didn’t want to listen to them tell me how sorry they were. After my father was buried, they would all go home to watch their television shows, laughing before they retired to bed.
And what would I do?
I would go home, and the guilt would take a little bit more from me. I would go home and see the absolute heartbreak on my mother’s face. And I would tuck Simon into bed, listening to him pray that God would tell Daddy we loved him.
So, I told myself it was okay to be a little bitter, and I looked at the ground as Elias opened the door and ushered me into the lobby. It was nearly silent apart from the instrumental music playing over the speakers and hushed conversation.
Elias squeezed me a little tighter. “You still with me?”
I gave a half nod, and he led me through the people, not letting a single person stop him like he understood if I heard someone mumbled the words,it’ll be okay, one more time I would completely break down.
When we stepped into the chapel, the earthy scent of flowers surrounded me, and the conversation disappeared, leaving only the soft melody of “Amazing Grace.”
“I’m right here, okay?” he said.
Another half-hearted nod.
Someone brushed my arm, and I glanced up at one of the teachers from Robertsdale. Her mouth began moving and her eyes watering, but I didn’t hear a word she said.
Elias thanked her for the condolences, then led me to the front of the tiny chapel. He moved his hands to my shoulders and leaned down until his forehead touched mine, his watercolor eyes peering into mine. “I’m not gonna lie to you; this is gonna be one of the hardest things you ever do in your life.” He wet his lip with his tongue, dropping his chin while shaking his head. “You won’t ever get over this, but you’ll learn to live with it, okay? And don’t you dare try to be fucking strong. You crumble if you need. I’ll be right here.”
I stared at the maroon skirt surrounding the table first, then the steel-gray coffin, the arrangement of white roses, my daddy’s hands—the hands that had held me as a baby, that had held onto the handles of my bicycle; the hands that had wiped away tears.
And then my gaze slowly moved to his face.
That was the hardest part, looking at his waxy skin powdered with makeup to hide the raw appearance of death and saying,that doesn’t look like him.
Blinking away tears, I looked at the ceiling. I traced my fingertip along the cool edge of the casket, trying to comprehend a life without my father. But some things you just can’t fathom. Death, I was convinced, was something I’d never understand. It was cruel and senseless, and the absolute worst, non-physical pain I’d ever experienced. The person lying in that casket was nothing but a shell, and maybe that was why it was so difficult to bring myself to touch him.
My hand trembled, my throat threatened to close, but I needed my goodbye. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whispered on a choked breath, squeezing his cold hand. “I love you.” My jaw ached from how hard I clenched my teeth. “I love you.” I repeated those words until they were nothing but sobs. But no matter how many times I said them, I’d never hear him answer me.
For the restof the funeral, I sat between Momma and Elias. When Pastor Fulmer went to the podium, Simon refused to move away from the casket so the funeral home director could close the lid. Elias was the one to finally pull him away, promising the box was a rocket ship that would take Daddy to God. Then Pastor Fulmer spoke about the Godly man my father was, but I didn’t hear much of anything. Words hold no meaning in regards to love or death.
That night,Daisy’s mom and a few ladies from church sat at the kitchen table with Momma, talking about all the great things my father had done in his life. I couldn’t bear it, although it seemed to bring my mother comfort. The ladies eventually left, one by one, and Mother went to bed while Elias and I watchedPower Rangerswith Simon.
My little brother fell asleep in my lap, clinging to the stuffed bear I’d given him, and eventually Elias carried him to his room.
I didn’t like being alone. After tucking Simon in, Elias stopped at the bottom of the stairwell, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You wanna come outside for a minute?”
I turned the TV off, and in a fog, I followed him onto the front porch.
The humid blanket of southern heat swathed around me, and the cicadas hummed their song while the fireflies flashed out in the field. Elias leaned against the wooden railing, and I sat on the swing, emptiness sitting down right beside me. That house felt different, the porch. The world felt emptier, and to me, it was. I lost myself in thoughts and regrets, numb tears seeping from my eyes.
