Page 7 of Sol
I sensed the absence of her as strongly as I always felt her presence. Even after all this time. If she were here, I’d know it by that light she gave off. The way she radiated energy. But no, nothere.
The woman in front of me turned around and did a double take before she recognized me. It took me a second to identify her, too—my parents’ neighbor. “Hello, Trent. I’m so sorry aboutDegan.”
“Thank you, Mrs.Carr.”
“It’s such a shame. Soyoung.”
Here was the part where I gulped, my heart heavy. I managed out, “Right.”
“Where’sDanika?”
I shook my head. “We don’t know. Spain,maybe.”
Mrs. Carr gasped. “Oh no! Someone needs to tellher!”
“Yes, I know,” I said in a flat voice. She gave me a pitiful expression, like she wanted to say more, and I prayed to a God I didn’t believe in anymore that she wouldn’t, because I couldn’t say much more than that or I’d lose it. I determinedly stared at the dark blue industrial-grade carpeting, avoidingeveryone.
But I still heard the sniffling. All around me, women pulled Kleenex out of their purses. Men pretended not to cry but didn’t breathe either, holding it all in. I winced and rubbed the heel of my palm against mychest.
My mother, sitting between me and my father, reached out to hold my hand. My heel scuffed the floor, and the wooden seat creaked as I shifted and slumped. The service was about tostart.
“Dearly beloved,” began the pastor. “We are gathered here to celebrate the life of Degan ChristopherAnderson.”
A sob caught in my throat as I heard the words. Sofinal.
I should have savedhim.
No. I couldn’t go there. Fuck you, traitorousbrain.
It should have been me, nothim.
No. Fuck no. My body got cold at the thought. I couldn’t think like that. I needed to carry out his wishes. Give her hisletter.
I stretched out my fingers and slid my hands down my thighs. The perfect crease on my dress pants momentarily fascinated me. Anything to avoid breaking down. I didn’t dare move more than I had to. Icouldn’t.
“Degan was a brave and honorable soldier, who served our country withpride.”
God, Dani was right. A traditional funeral wasn’t the way to honor Degan. No way would this pastor get his personality right. Degan was remarkable.Exceptional.
This guy probably wouldn’t even mention the CocoaPuffs.
My eyes focused on the seam of the black suit jacket of the teenager in front of me sitting next to Mrs. Carr. Was that her son? Jeez, he’d grown up. It was so much easier to focus on the back of his neck, staring straight ahead, than it was to listen to theservice.
“And now, Sergeant Trent Milner, will give a fewwords.”
I rose, back straight and shoulders squared, my military training automatically taking over. I strode to the podium and stood behind it, eying themicrophone.
The flag-draped coffin lay to myright.
My best friend was inthere.
“Degan,” I began, but my voicebroke.
Fuck.
Regroup.
Would this everend?
