Page 111 of A World Without You
They look just how I remember them, but maybe slightly more...tired.
I b-line for them when a man I’ve since realized is named Jared grabs me gently and says, “Hey, Olivia, do you—”
“In a second,” I respond, barely breaking eye contact with Shannon.
Each step is agonizing because I can’t get to her fast enough to ask,Where is Bennett? Where is Josie?
When I reach them, I don’t sayhiormerry Christmasorthank you for coming. I pull Shannon into my arms and hold her tight, whispering in her ear, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
She pulls back, her lips buttoned up as she nods. Glancing at Clint, I see tears in his eyes. “We love you, kid.”
I throw myself in his arms. I pull back and his bright smile doesn’t falter. “Great party. God is good! You are one loved, young lady,” he says and I nod, swallowing every emotion that wants me to fall apart.
“Isn’t she? We’re just so proud of her and all she’s accomplished,” my mom says, though there’s deflection in her voice.
“And the hors devourers Colin catered in are great. Don’t you think, honey?” Mom adds, looking at dad.
I ignore them both. I ignore the twinkle in the room from the Christmas tree in the corner. I ignore the hum of Mariah Carey singing in the background. I ignore my need to play the part here because all I want to know is, “How’s Bennett?”
Four faces blanch in front of me, and they exchange a glance. “He...” Shannon begins, but she glances at Clint, and I know she’s hesitating to say what she wants to.
“Is the same,” Clint finishes for her.
I don’t know what the same is.
“But we still love him and want only the best for him, but he’s been through it,” Mom says, and I narrow my eyes on her.
The absolute non-answers I’m receiving need to stop immediately. I don’t know how long I’m sitting in this dream, and, quite frankly, I’m getting sick of waking up from a dream just as it starts to get good.
“Shannon, can I talk to you?” I ask, holding her hands in mine.
There’s a glimmer of fear in her eyes—or perhaps it’s hurt. I’m not quite sure, but my instinct is telling me that if I’m going to find out where he is, she’s the only one who will tell me.
She nods, and I slip with her down the small hallway to the bedroom. The distant chatter and holiday music recedes as I tuck her inside my bedroom and say, “Shannon, what happened?”
She draws in a long breath that she holds for two seconds before saying, “You know what happened.”
“I don’t!” I say, a cry climbing up my swollen throat. “Listen. I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t know what happened that Christmas. Where is Bennett?”
“He’s learning to move on, but he isn’t quite ready to forgive. But he’s getting better, honey. You need to not worry so much,” she begins to chide, and I cut her off, not even caring if I sound rude or certifiably insane.
“What happened? All I know is he was heading to my parents’ house for Christmas and then...” I throw my hands in the air, indicating every detail I should know in this world is blank. Gone. Poof.
Shannon considers me for a long moment, her eyes dancing from my eyes and all around my face, then to the room. “You all were heading to the house...together.None of you made it to the house, Livvie, you know that.”
“Why?” My chest is heaving, each breath anticipating more than an answer.
“There was an accident.” She swallows, and I swear to the good Lord Baby Jesus, if I fall back into reality, I will riot.
“And?”
“He lost Krista, Livvie. He lost his pregnant wife in the accident. He has every right to be destroyed.”
Her statement is plain yet painful. A sad story we tell, not a complete devastation of losing their granddaughter, Josie. I think of her bright smile and how she has her daddy’s eyes and her grandmother’s smile. I think of her bright optimism and her love for the world. I think of movies on the couch, catching snowflakes with our tongues, and flying down hills on sleds. I think of hot cocoa and grilled cheese sandwiches. I think of Bennett and how much he loves his baby girl.
Every thought builds harder and faster, pound by pound, until I heave out a sob. “I’m so sorry.” I weep, and Shannon grips her hand around mine.
“It’s okay, honey, we’re all learning to—”
