"I remember the moment you were born. The first time I held you in my arms. You were a tiny giant. Your arms flailed, and you screamed, and I was both filled with pride and terrified. Raising another human being is a harrowing responsibility, but you made it easy. When your mother died, and I was overwhelmed with my own grief, you took over. And that was an easy transition for you because when the twins were born, you used to insist on being the other pair of arms to hold either Taylor or Tyler. You used to follow Trenton around with a Kleenex, and you orbited Travis like he would break at any moment. I've never seen a young boy fawn over babies the way you did, and I was looking forward to watching you do that with your daughter.
"When you were eleven, I took you hunting. We'd shot guns before, and you were pretty good at it, but that particular morning was rainy and cold, and you decided you'd wait in the truck. I trudged out to my favorite spot and wiped the rain out of my eyes for two hours, chilled all the way to the bone, wishing you were bearing that miserable, foggy morning with me. I didn't see a single doe. And then I heard a shot, and then another. I gathered my gear and ran back to the truck as fast as I could, nearly slipping in the mud when I stopped to see you inspecting your kill. I'll be damned if you didn't get your first buck that year--a twelve-point, nearly dry and warm while I'd been sitting in the freezing rain. I should have known then that you knew what you were doing; that you had your mother's intuition and not just her eyes.
"When Diane passed, you never asked me what to do, you just knew, as if she were whispering in your ear. You rocked Travis to sleep, you calmed Trenton, and you dressed the twins in matching outfits like your mother used to. You combed their hair and made sure they were clean for school, no matter how many times you had to scrub them before you led them onto the bus. You took care of everyone else, and then you went and did what you wanted to do, and I can't be prouder, son. I really can't.
"I wish we could have had one more evening at the dining table with a hand of cards, talking about the world and how amazed you are by the mother of your child. I'd do anything to listen to you talk about your future and your job, even if you couldn't tell us everything. I don't know why this happened to you, the most careful of us, the surest of his footing, the most prepared. You were the strongest. But thinking about you finally able to hug your mom's neck again gives me comfort in a way I can't describe. I know her death was hardest on you, not because of the burden you embraced, but because out of all the boys, you'd loved your mother the longest. You never let that get in the way of what she'd asked you to do, though, to take care of your brothers. You never let her down, not even now. I would give anything to take your place so you can be here with your wife and raise your daughter because I know you'd be a damn good father, just as you were a good son. I'm going to miss you as much as I've missed your mother, and I know just how much that's going to hurt.
"Thank you for keeping our family together and safe until the end, and thank you for ignoring everything and everyone else--even yourself--to do what was right. I knew you long enough to know you don't make a decision without good reason, and this is no different. I've adored you since your first breath. You were a good boy, and a fine man, and this family will rise up again to be our very best in your honor."
Jack pressed his lips together and then folded the paper, tucking it into his jacket pocket. He took off his glasses, and Shepley walked him across the stage as the tune of one of Thomas's favorite songs began humming through the speakers.
Jack sat next to his brother, and they comforted each other while the music played. Even Abby and Travis were crying. Abby hugged Liis, while Travis rocked Stella, touching his cheek to her forehead, tears dripping from the tip of his nose. I intertwined my fingers with my husband's trembling hand, squeezing hard. He wiped his cheeks, sucking in a breath between quiet sobs. As I scanned the faces of our family, we looked so broken, so lost. My breath faltered, watching a local pastor take the stage. He would attempt to offer comfort and pray for our loss, but nothing would take away the pain. Not even God. I looked at Trenton, watching him let his tough-guy persona fall away in front of a huge crowd without a second thought. It was heartbreaking to watch men fall apart--men who could face anything else without flinching. Now, pain flooded in with their every breath, and I sat in the midst of Thomas's brothers, wishing I could take their pain away, wishing mine would somehow disappear. It was too much to process. The music only made it hurt worse, so I decided to feel nothing, the way I did when I was little and my father was hitting my mother.
Several cars were parked in the drive, spilling out down both sides of the street in front of Jim Maddox's home, just as I'd pictured. As the news of Thomas's death spread, more people would arrive, bringing casseroles and sweet memories.
I swallowed, bracing myself for condolences. Jim was the father who would bury his firstborn. Liis was the widow. I was the sister-in-law and the ex-girlfriend. I felt like my grief ran deeper than Falyn's or Abby's, and that spawned guilt. My stomach sank, and my nose burned. There was nothing I wanted to do less than walk into the house and play the part of supporting wife and sister-in-law and ignore that Thomas was also my first love, that we had shared a bed more than once, and we had almost moved in together. He had loved me, and I would have to pretend none of that existed out of respect for his wife and my husband.
Trenton squeezed my hand. "I know," he said simply. With two words, he set my mind at ease, expressing both understanding and unconditional love. He'd forgiven me the night before for my lies and omissions. It wasn't okay, he pointed out, but it was understandable, and he loved me anyway.
A black sea of friends and extended family milled about the house, trudging over the carpet Diane had chosen, through the rooms Thomas had once played in, and where they were once a complete family that death hadn't touched. This was why Diane had made Jim walk away from the police force. This was why she made him promise not to let the kids follow in his footsteps. Once Death took Diane in its arms, Jim and the boys have all been waiting for it to come for them. It became real then, a tangible thing, because it didn't just happen to someone else. It happened to her. Their everything, their sunshine, their constant. And then she was a memory that faded with each passing day. Trenton had said he's struggled to remember the sound of her voice and the exact color of her eyes. The moment she'd passed, they had seen Death, and Death had seen them.
Taylor and Tyler were sitting around the dining table in front of homemade dishes and a stack of clean plates. Their wives sat next to them, attempting to help them carry the pain. Because it wasn't going away. It would never go away. No matter how many times they yelled, threw punches, or lost their tempter, they couldn't win.
Ironically, Travis was taking it the best. He was making sure the brothers had water or beer, and that they were comfortable with the number on the thermostat. Trenton and Shepley were still angry with Travis, and the twins were still on his side, but they couldn't fight one another today. They needed each other to get through it.
Abby stood out from the rest in a muted blue dress, sitting in the corner where Liis had been a few days before, glaringly without Carter. I watched as she fussed with her dress, tugging at the too-tight parts and pulling at the square neckline to cover the bulging breasts of a new mother.
"You look beautiful," I assured her.
She rolled her eyes. "Thank you. It's tighter than I thought it'd be, but I didn't really have anything for the occasion."
"It's perfect," I said. "I have a lot of black. You should have called."
"Nothing in your closet is going to fit me right now," she said.
"I'm actually a little surprised Travis isn't scrambling over here to keep you covered."
Travis had been known for complaining when Abby wore something too revealing or too tight, aware of his own jealousy. In the beginning, he was trying to be proactive to avoid a fight. But after they were married, something changed, and Travis wasn't as sensitive. Still, Travis unaffected by
the overabundance of cleavage was serious progress.
"Good for you," I said, crossing my arms and sitting back. The somber faces in the room reminded me why we were gathered at Jim's, and the sickness that had settled in my stomach in the last week had returned. It wasn't just grief. Something was off, and I couldn't quite figure it out. Travis and Liis were leaning on each other quite a bit, and Abby--though typically stoic--didn't seem as affected by Thomas' death. "Abby," I said. "If you knew something else ... about Thomas ... you'd tell us, right?"
Abby sighed. "When I left the hospital without my son, I cried for a full hour. I didn't want to, but I had to, so I did. I left him there alone to come here to be with family. And I'll go straight back to the hospital when this is over. I've done that every day for nearly a week. Hold my son, careful of the wires and tubing attached to him. Worry, enjoy my time with him, feel guilty being away from the twins, and then tell him goodbye, cry, and leave."
I waited for her to make her point, but she didn't seem to have one. I took that as her way of telling me my question was inappropriate, and she was just going to talk about what she wanted.
"He's doing better, though?" I asked.
"Getting stronger every day. We're hoping he can come home next week."
"You're a good mom. I know it's hard."
"Having your heart split into three pieces, walking around vulnerable outside my body? Some days it's torture. There are no words to describe how frightening, wonderful, awful, and exhausting it is. Worrying seems like second nature. It's a part of me because I love them so much, even before they were born, that if something bad happened to them, it would be worse than death. I hear about children dying, and I find myself apathetic because if I think about it too much, I'll break down. People say it's every parent's worst nightmare. It's not a nightmare. You wake up from nightmares."
"Motherhood sounds ... lovely," I said.
"You'll see," Abby said, wiping her wet cheeks.
I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not sure I want to."
Travis walked toward us, having just said goodbye to someone on the phone. He tapped the display and dropped the sleek tech into his suit pocket. "NICU says he just had lunch. He's an animal ... Hey, Cami."
"Hey," I said.
"Where's Trent?" he asked.
"I think I saw him go into the living room," Abby said.
"Straight to Dad," Travis said, sitting down with us. He picked at a hangnail on his thumb. "He's always been a daddy's boy."
"Don't pretend you aren't. That you all aren't," Abby smirked.
"Not Thomas," Travis said. He seemed to catch himself before saying anything more. Abby grabbed his hand and calmed him with a shushing noise she might make to her children. "It will be over soon," she whispered.
I sunk back into my seat, the muscles in my face feeling tired, my eyes raw, and my sinuses congested. Trenton had placed tissues and trash cans in every room, and the twins were making sure to empty and replace the trash bags regularly. I blew my nose, making a horrid sound, and tossed it into the can next to me, hugging the box of Kleenex to my waist. We all had different currency on different days. In an airport, I saw people hunting for a chair close to outlets or choosing to sit on the floor. Today, people congregated next to the booze or the tissues.
I held onto the thin cardboard box like a lifeline. It was the only thing to hold. Trenton was in the living room comforting Jim, and I was at odds with my sisters-in-law, still pissed they had taken sides. I guess I had, too, but it was inevitable. We would choose when it came to the brothers and Shepley fighting, except Ellie Peace-and-Love. She remained disgustingly neutral, while Falyn was pissed at Trenton, as was Abby. Trenton and Shepley were angry with Travis. Even though everyone was civil during the funeral, I couldn't help but wonder what would go down afterward. I planned a quick escape so Trenton wouldn't say or do anything else he'd regret later.
"It's not going to be over," I muttered. "Not if he's gone."
Abby craned her neck at me, and I could tell she was holding her tongue.
"He doesn't feel gone," I said, feeling my eyes fill with tears. I looked at her. "Is he really gone?"
Abby glanced around before she spoke. "Cami, I'm just going to tell you this once. Whatever you're doing, stop. If anyone heard you ... it could be very upsetting to a lot of people."
"I need to know," I begged, feeling my lips tremble.
The wheels began to turn, and then Abby faced me, suddenly angry. "What do you mean he doesn't feel gone? His future wife is sitting next to Jim. You're not it," she hissed.
"Pidge," Travis warned.
I was taken aback by her sudden vitriol. "I still care about him. What happened between us wasn't just erased because we went in different directions," I said.
Abby seemed to be increasingly concerned about the volume of my voice. "I'm sure this is confusing for you, but you didn't just go in different directions, Cami. You married his brother. He moved on. You're not the grieving widow, as much as you want to be."
"Abby," Travis said.
She sat back in her seat, crossing her arms. "I knew she was going to make today about her. She's appropriated Jim, Trenton's miserable over their infertility, and now, she wants everyone to acknowledge that she loved Thomas first."
"I would love for you to visit more," I said.
"You don't live here," Abby said, indignant. "You've got balls welcoming me to Jim's home. I've been in this family longer than you have."
"I'm not making Trent miserable. He wants a baby just as much as I do," I said, ignoring her response to touch on one of her original points.
"But he seems to live life between pregnancy tests, unless he's trying to show you how miserable he is."
"I did love Thomas," I said finally.
"He's marrying Liis," Abby snapped. "I'm sure you feel you have a right to feel like you've lost just as much as she has, but she's in there holding his daughter. Have you even once gone to her to express your sympathies?"
I stuttered over my words. I wasn't expecting a full-on attack. I wasn't sure where Abby's contempt was coming from, but it had been building up for a long time. "I just didn't ... I don't want to make her feel awkward."
"If you think for one second that Liis sees you as anything but Thomas's sister-in-law, you're wrong. I promise you there is nothing to feel awkward over."
She couldn't have said things more hurtful. I pressed my lips together and looked down, covering my nose with a tissue.
"Baby," Travis said, cupping his wife's shoulders. "Ease up."
"Cami?" Trenton said, walking toward us.
"Oh, fuck," Travis whispered.
He kneeled in front of me, waiting for me to speak. "You need a hug, baby doll?"
I wiped my nose and eyes and looked up with a small smile. "It's just sad," I said.
Trenton combed one side of my hair back with his fingers. "Yeah. C'mon. Dad's asking for you."
I stood, leaving Travis and Abby alone. She had never spoken to me that way before, and my mind was already racing for excuses. She'd just had a baby, her hormones were out of control, Carter was at the hospital alone while she was here to mourn Thomas and support Travis. Maybe she didn't mean any of it. Maybe she was lashing out. But it wasn't like Abby to lose her cool, especially without provocation.
Trenton guided me to the living room, and I looked over my shoulder at Abby. She already looked ashamed. Travis was comforting her, but their expressions were different from everyone else's in the room. My eyes drifted to the urn on a shelf, the one we were told held Thomas's ashes, hoping to God they were keeping something from me and that my instinct was right. As Jim came into view, I held my breath. He was hunched over, the bags under his eyes swollen and weighing down the rest of his face. Surely, if it were all a cover-up, they would tell him. They wouldn't let him think his son was dead.
Jim's ice water was nearly full, so I picked the tall glass off the side table next to his recliner and prompted him to take a drink
. He took a sip and then handed it back. "Thanks, sis."
I sat on the floor next to him, rubbing his knee. "Hungry?"
The casserole dishes that filled nearly every inch of the dining table had barely been touched. A week before, the Maddox boys would have torn through it all, but the only people eating were the kids. Everyone else lumbered around like the walking dead with a wine glass or tumbler in their hands.
Jim shook his head. "No, thanks. You doing okay? You need anything? I haven't seen you in a while."
I smiled, not feeling so much like the monster Abby had made me out to be just moments before. I took care of Dad, and I could see that he was comforted when I was around. He knew I would take care of him. Abby could say what she wanted, and maybe part of it was true, but I was a Maddox, and the only thing that mattered to me was the way Jim and Trenton saw me.
I nodded and stood, watching as extended family cleared an area of the couch closest to Jim. Liis sat in a folded chair on the other side, holding her sleeping newborn. Stella was beautiful--one-half Liis, with her almond-shaped eyes, dark, straight hair, and pouty lips, and one-half Thomas. Her eyes still had a sheen of blue, but beneath I could tell she would have hazel green eyes like her father.
Trenton squeezed my hand, noticing that I was staring at the baby. Part of me felt obligated to look away and spare his feelings, but another demanded that I experience my feelings honestly so I could grieve like anyone else.
"She's beautiful," I said to my husband.
"Yes, she is."
"It was a beautiful service," a cousin said to Liis. The elderly woman patted Stella's back, her fingers lingering on the navy and gray dress. "She looks so pretty."
"Thank you," Liis said, holding Stella close to her chest. I'd never seen folded dress socks or Mary Janes so tiny, and her diaper was covered with frilled, navy blue bloomers.
Val approached Liis, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Liis' eyes widened a bit, and then she relaxed, even managing a small smile. Val flashed her a quick glance of a text message, and then tears fell down Liis's cheeks.
Travis and Abby came straight over, and they decided to take the conversation into the next room, helping Liis gather the baby's things before scurrying off to talk.
A Beautiful Funeral Page 18
