Page 61 of It Couldn't Be You
“Oh no.” My hands trembled on the steering wheel. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks,” he said reflexively.
“What happened?” Katie and I exchanged a distressed glance.
“She had a heart attack. She was in bed asleep. My mom went over when she wasn’t answering her calls the next day. I think she kind of had a feeling.”
“That’s awful.” I could see her tight gray curls, her loose chiffon tops, and her little hand always grabbing mine and giving it a squeeze when she saw me.
“Yeah. I just thought you should know. You know she loved you,” he said the last part quietly.
“I loved her, too,” I said.
“I know. You loved all of us, huh?” he said roughly. “Well, day after tomorrow is the funeral. If you want to come.”
It was quiet. “Do you want me there?” I didn’t want to make it a harder day for him. I didn’t want my presence to take any attention.
He didn’t say anything for a minute.
Finally he said, “You know, I do want you there. It’d mean a lot to the whole family.”
“I’ll be there then,” I said.
I hung up the phone and took in a jagged breath. Katie’s hand was on my shoulder again, like she had done only a couple of days ago, a message of support.
I tried to get my thoughts in order after we parked the car. Katie was quietly on her phone, so I had a moment of quiet that felt like it was mine alone.
I had a billion thoughts in my head, like a server carrying too many plates, trying to balance, trying not to let one drop and crash. The grief over Nana, the excitement over my career, as well as the task ahead of boarding my flight and getting home, finishing, and submitting my story. Then there was Gabriel, our messages last night, and what he may or may not have heard Katie say during our call and…. All of this, I was carrying as I sat at the airport’s car rental area.
Katie interrupted my moment of quiet. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah,” I said, pulling the keys from the ignition.
My thoughts had no chance of getting in order, anyway.
Twenty-One
Jordan
The funeral will be Wednesday morning at 10. At Oak Grove Chapel.
Ispent the airplane ride finishing my article. I bought Wi-Fi to send it in before we landed, and I had to put my laptop away.
As the plane landed, the escape of being in the air and being inside my laptop was gone. Airplane rides had always felt like a little bubble up above the rest of the world to me, where I could leave any worries or fears or sadness down below and pick back up once we landed.
We were back on land now, where someone I loved was gone—where a family I loved was hurting. Where a man I cared for was grieving and needing comfort. But I was not the one to comfort him any longer, right? Or was I? What were the rules? What was okay? Should I be reaching out? Was it heartless and cruel to not call or show up? After all we had between us. Or was it heartless and cruel to reinsert myself?
The thoughts came rushing over me as I waited at baggage claim. Katie was standing a few feet from me. She was quiet, too.
I kept opening Jordan’s text thread, trying to muster up the right words of comfort that were genuine, but also, I don’t know…appropriate, I guess. Was there a handbook on how to be there for your grieving ex? I kept wiping away tiny, warm tears.
Nana’s homemade chocolate chip cookies that she always had on hand. Her laidback, loving attitude. She always said she’d seen enough in the world to know we shouldn’t sweat the small stuff. She was running around in her sneakers, pulling out the paper plates, and laughing loudest at the party.
The baggage carousel suddenly roared to life and stunned me back to the present. I dropped my phone in my back pocket and watched for my bag and Katie’s. I grabbed both and then walked over to her. She thanked me, and we rolled our bags through the parking lot in silence.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked once we were on the road driving home. “You’ve seemed shaken since we stepped off the plane. I know you were close to Nana.”
“Oh,” I said distractedly. “Yeah, I’m pretty sad to have lost her. I’m sad for the whole family, you know. And I’m worried for Jordan.”
