My eyes dart at the machine beeping next to me, at the secure trashcans, at the signs on the wall.
Chief touches my arm gently. “You never know when your time is going to be. And we’re all going to be grieving him. We’re all going to be wondering what we could have done differently.” He pauses. “As you know, we all write what we would like to happen in a tragic case such as this one and J.J. wanted you to be a pallbearer. We will find ways to honor him. And one way to honor him is to live. Grief will always catch you when you least expect it. And everyone will process through it differently, but we’re a family and we need to be there for Abby.”
I clear my throat, without dislodging the lump that will probably stay there forever. “How did you stay on as a firefighter? How did you manage to still live the way you do?”
“Because this is still all I can think about doing. It’s another way for me to honor them. I continue to fight and I continue to save. I continue for all of those who can’t. But everyone is different. We have resources to deal with the loss and I urge you to use those resources.” He slowly stands up. “And another thing I urge you to do is to not isolate yourself. Families can help you or break you. Some can’t deal with what we do. Others are the only reason we can continue. I have a feeling Lacey is the latter. Don’t push her away when you need her most.”
Nurse Luciana enters with a smile. “Chief, it’s nice to see you. Our patient will be able to leave the hospital in a few hours.”
“I’ll bring him back to the station,” Chief answers before turning to me. “Unless there’s somewhere else you need to be.”
I hesitate. “I’d like to go back to the station.”
And I do. I’m feeling lost.
And I need to be with my brothers.
CHAPTER 28 – LACEY
The last time I attended a funeral was years ago for my grandmother. Mom had gotten drunk before and she was mumbling how she was never going to be good enough for her, and that she had always been right.
Luke was trying to keep her upright. Our uncle was giving her the death glare.
I couldn’t even attend my own mother’s funeral because I was still at the hospital.
I pull on my black dress even though it’s already down to my mid-calves.
The cemetery is full with people. He’s getting buried in a different area than my mother. It rained overnight and the soil is still damp. My shoe gets stuck and I pull on it, almost tip-toeing to the gathering. My heart hammers. The smell of flowers isn’t overwhelming, but almost calming.
Hunter didn’t ask me to come. He hasn’t talked to me for days. He went to classes. I saw him on campus. He talked to people. And maybe they can’t tell but I can. I can tell he’s barely hanging by a thread.
He gave me feedback on an assignment by email. Everything very succinct, very professional, very dry.
Two fire trucks stand on each side and J.J.’s picture with his uniform is framed next to his final resting place. Hunter was a pallbearer. He’s standing close to Abby’s family right now and he turns once to look through the crowd.
And I think he sees me. It’s in the way one of his brows raises, but then he glances away as quickly.
His jaw is set.
And then he moves forward. “Abby has asked me to read before the final bell.” He clears his throat.
“Rest now my fallen brother.”
His voice breaks and he clears his throat, his eyes seeking mine. You can do this, I mouth and he stares straight ahead again.
“Lay soft your suffering back
Rest well and forever
Your memory shall not lack
Rest your tired hands.
Wipe clean your weary brow.
“Rest with St. Florian. Your spirit now endowed. Rest here your breaking heart. We know you gave your all. Rest easy, you’ve done your part. You’ve answered your last call. Rest knowing that in God we sought. Oh Lord, watch over another who just fell. Rest assured your troubled thought. As we ring the final bell.”
He finishes without stopping. His eyes find mine and he holds on, during the final bell, until J.J.’s casket is lowered into the ground.
He’s swept into the crowd. I stroll down the path to the other side to my mother’s grave and the pain I usually feel standing there is tenfold thinking about the pain Hunter’s currently going through. There’s another small bouquet of daisies and I gather them, bringing them closer, inhaling their sweet scent. There are no threatening letters, nothing but those daisies, but I still check around, an uneasy feeling gripping my stomach. I carefully lay the daisies back onto her grave and without a word, I wrap my arms around myself.
After a few minutes, I make my way back onto the parking lot to my small car. I hear footsteps and for some odd reason, I know it’s him.
I turn around and he strides purposefully toward me. There’s no hesitation in the way he pulls me into a hug. His muscles are taut. His arms strong. His chest is hard against mine. And even though he’s much stronger than I am, I feel like I’m giving him strength.
His lips touch the top of my head.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
And then he leaves.
CHAPTER 29 – HUNTER
I’ve been going through the motions since J.J. died. I’ve been going to classes, keeping up my grades, eating, and even laughing from time to time. But everything seems further away, seems slower.
Lacey’s safe. And a big part of me believes she’s safer without me. That’s why I pushed her away. Knowing she walked back toward the fire after seeing how frozen she looked on that path. I can’t imagine what she put herself through. I can’t imagine how I would have been able to go on if anything had happened to her. Losing J.J. was devastating. It’s a loss I still feel deep inside of me. And I’m not sure it’s ever going to go away. I carry those I lost with me.
“Are you sure you’re eating enough?” Mom and Grandma both ask me at the same time. We’re video chatting while I’m parked and I may be stalling.
“I’m eating enough. How is Grandpa doing? How is the house? And the flowers?”
“Ever since I got a job, we can really pay the bills.” Mom frowns like she did when she thought I had hidden broccoli under my chair. “You really need to stop worrying about all of us.”
Grandma’s laughter booms. “Your mom should listen to herself more often. We’re doing fine and Grandpa is playing bridge with his friends. And you know the flowers, as your mom says all they needed was a little bit of love.” She narrows her eyes at me and I almost smile seeing how much Mom is starting to look like her mother. “Just like you, Hunter. Just like you.”
I shift in my seat. If there’s anything more uncomfortable than talking about love with Mom, it’s talking about love with my grandma. “I have to go. I’ll call you ladies later.” And I hung up.
The parking lot isn’t full, and the college doesn’t look as crowded as usual. Probably a game going on. It’s my first night not at the station. Going back on calls has been cathartic but also so hard.
It’s the first time I’m going to sleep on campus since the funeral. And the funeral was almost a month ago.
Chief said I needed to take some time away from the station. “You need to be around other people,” he said when he asked me to meet him in his office this morning. “You can’t live here. You can’t stay here every single moment you don’t have class. It isn’t healthy.” It sounded like an order so I didn’t argue. He didn’t mention Lacey but he didn’t need to; the way he looked at me was pretty clear.
Lacey and I have exchanged emails about our English assignment. We exchanged a few texts.
I thanked her for being there at the funeral.
Without her presence, I think I would have faltered but she gave me strength. Some families are torn apart by our job, others keep us together. It felt that she helped with keeping me glued together.
And we didn’t even speak.
I march toward the dorm. She told me she
was studying tonight. She’s only a flight of stairs away. I rub the knot on my right shoulder. Maybe I should go and see her. Maybe I should see how she’s doing. Maybe I should...
I don’t have an idea what I should do.
It’s not super late, but the signs in the hallway remind me that the game happening tonight is a pretty important one. It’s a championship game. We might be in the NCAAIII but it’s still football, which means it’s still the place to be, and it would seem almost the entire student community is attending because there’s almost no one there. Barson gave me his key so that I could crash on the couch.
“Hunter?” I turn around at the sad voice. Abby’s waiting for me. She’s wearing black pants and a black shirt. She’s looking even paler than the last time I saw her three days ago. She was picking up his belongings at the station. She had wanted to come and see us, she said. J.J and she had met on a dating app and they got married only a few months after. He used to laugh that he’d never thought he’d use a dating app at his age, but he was so glad he did.
And now what?
“You haven’t called me back.” Her eyes are still red from lack of sleep, or too much crying. “I called you two days ago and you haven’t called me back.”
“I’m sorry.” And I am. I am sorry. I just don’t know what to say.
“Is there somewhere we can talk? Chief told me you’d be here tonight,” she asks, glancing around.
I nod and gesture for her to follow me. There are two sitting areas on this floor. One a bit off to the side that’s further from the vending machines and isn’t used as much. We both sit. She leans forward, her elbows on her knees.
“How are you feeling?”
This is surreal. She’s the one asking me how I’m doing. “I’m doing. How about you?”
“Like crap. I’m not doing well. But as J.J. told me so many times, ‘Please be sad but please move on.’ I’m still in the sad phase.” She shakes her head. “He’d be making a bad joke right now if he were here and then he would yell at you.”
“At me?” I lean back, her words punching me in the stomach. “For letting him down,” I whisper.
“No.” Her voice becomes stronger. And she stares at me, her unflinching pain mixed with strength. “For not remembering you promised each other to keep on living.”
“How do you know?” And then I want to swallow my fucking words back. J.J. and Abby always seemed open with one another. I remember him telling me, “When you find someone who can make you laugh, and make you feel like you can take over the world, and would support you each step of the way, all while calling you on your bullshit when you need to be called on it...then marry him or her.”
“Because he had the same talk with me.” She smiles a sad smile. “He gave me statistics. Showed me that pizza delivery people are more likely to die while delivering pizza because people don’t know to drive. He told me that most of the times, his job really wasn’t that dangerous.” She reminisces without looking at me. “I told him he was still more heroic than anyone I knew and he said it’s all about the dedication. That you could have a hero waiting in everyone. That he also loved the rush.” She glances up at me and her eyes are brimmed with unshed tears. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I said yes to marrying him. He asked me if I knew that maybe one day he wouldn’t be able to come home. I asked him to promise me he would always try his best to come back.” She pauses and when she bores her eyes into mine, it’s like she’s trying to hammer her message home. “You can be sad and mad. You can even blame yourself—even though that makes no sense. But you have to know, I don’t blame you. And he wouldn’t blame you either.”
She stands back up and wipes more tears. “He wrote letters. In case...something like that happened. I remember asking him why he would do that when he kept on telling me no one knows how many days they have on Earth and he did this wink I used to tease him about and...” Her voice breaks. I’m tempted to move forward to give her a hug but she raises her hand. “No...if you hug me right now I’m going to fall apart. I know I can fall apart, but I want to fall apart on my terms. I don’t control a lot right now. Let me control this.” She inhales deeply. “He said...he was writing it for himself as much as for me. He added one for you.” She pulls it out of her purse and shoves it in my hands. “You need to honor him by living. Please.”
She lifts her chin and stands up, squaring her shoulders, but takes a deep breath before walking out. She doesn’t turn around and as she exits, her shoulders dip.
I don’t move for what seems like forever but was probably only a few minutes. And I touch the letter. And that fucking lump comes back uninvited to my throat.
And then I see her: Lacey. She’s standing there with her bag of laundry, a question mark on her face, and hope in her eyes.
I can’t say anything right now. I can’t talk without losing it. So like a jerk, all I mutter is “Hey.” That’s all I can manage.
I shove the letter into my back pocket and march into Branson and Rafael’s room without saying a word to her.
I need a fucking drink.
BUT DRINKING DOESN’T help. Nothing helps. And in the room, I feel caged in. I feel restless. I stretch my legs and stride back out, hoping against all hope that maybe Lacey’s still there waiting for me. I didn’t think I’d run into her. Part of me hoped I would.
When she said my name, I thought about standing up, dropping on my knees and sobbing. I haven’t cried since the funeral, since I shed those tears in her arms.
But I couldn’t.
The letter burns in my back pocket. I think about waiting to read the letter. For a better time. But is there ever a better time?
I carefully unfold it.
Hey Fuckface,
Don’t let Chief know I called you Fuckface again, he’d be pissed. He’d probably agree with me, but he’d be pissed nonetheless.
My throat tightens and I punch the pillow next to me. Okay, I do need privacy for this. I don’t feel like losing it in the hallway. I march back inside Branson and Rafael’s room and slide to the floor.
Hey Fuckface, I mean, Hunter The Great,
It’s going to be a short one. If you read this, I’m either drunk out of my ass and decided to show it to you or I’m six feet under. Shit.
And if I am six feet under...you’re probably blaming yourself. Hero Hunter. Probably think you should have saved me. Maybe you weren’t even on shift, or maybe I got hit by a drunk driver while jogging or maybe my heart stopped for no reason. No matter why you’re reading this, you probably think it’s your fault. We’ve only known each other for a few months and yet, Fuckface Hero Hunter, I know that about you: you’re not the reason I’m dead.
Now, go live your life Fuckface. Because I can’t live mine anymore and I wish I could.
Don’t mess up your chances. And if you mess them up, then grab another one. Because the only finality is the one I’m in if you’re reading this.
And do me a favor, can you check in on Abby from time to time. She’s my love, my one. After a while, tell her to try finding love again. Remind her that she can have more than one great love.
I’m not throwing myself flowers. I mean, I know I’m fucking awesome. But tell her, man. It’d be easier coming from you too. If it comes from you and not only my family and hers. I want her to live too.
Ok Fuckface Hero Hunter.
Be your own hero for once, will you?
Man, I’m deep.
Oh man, I just realized what I wrote. Not trying to be morbid I promise.
I found joy in every single day.
Don’t take any for granted.
See you Fuckface Hero Hunter.
I close my eyes. Fuckface. My throat burns. One of his many nicknames for me. He started after me, but he was a professional and I was a volunteer, and I was twenty years younger than him. He reminded me at every turn that he was older and it had to mean he was wiser than me.
Clearly, he was.
I stumble back up.
Lacey looked so tired. So tired and so sad. And I’ve been a dick. She had her load of laundry with her.
I’m not quite sure what I’m going to tell her.
But I need to see her. I need to find a way to make this right.
For J.J.
For Lacey.
And really, for me.
CHAPTER 30 – LACEY
Almost a month. It’s been almost a month since that moment I asked Hunter on a date, since everything unraveled, since Noah came back and J.J. died.
Even though Charlotte’s dad hasn’t been let out on bail, I still check every corner and still watch for any shadows in the light whenever I’m alone.
Elena is out with her girlfriend tonight. She asked me if I wanted to come with them, but even though they’re both very sweet, I really don’t feel like being the third wheel. Luke called me earlier, telling me about his work and Uncle John and anything he could think about. He’s been trying to distract me. Tessa reached out asking me if I wanted to participate in the fundraiser her association organizes. She created that association after everything that happened. The Mellie Foundation. I told her I’d think about it.
I sigh, glancing around my bed. Papers are scattered around. I gather them into a pile and sit them on my desk. I plop myself down and grab a book, but the words dance in front of my eyes. If only I could turn back time. If only there was something I could do.
I swing my legs and stand back up. I can’t sit here all evening, feeling sorry for myself. Tomorrow I’m working at the daycare for a few hours. Volunteering has been keeping me busy. Applying wasn’t easy and I thought the interview had gone horribly wrong since I couldn’t stop babbling about what I did on the compound, how I entertained the kids, how I taught them. When I left, all I wanted was to call Hunter, but I didn’t. I had an email an hour letter on my campus email letting me know I could join the team on a volunteer basis for a few hours a week. They usually give flex money for meals to their volunteers but since I got a full ride, they gave me a gift certificate to the bookstore. Hence, the new sweatpants with Let’s go Bison on the side that I’m wearing with my favorite bookish shirt: Shipley’s Farm. Right now, my pile of books here and on my e-reader is a mix of romance and regency romance. I need those endings full of love and happiness. But, I also have homework. I sigh and pluck the Romeo and Juliet book from my bookshelf above my bed. Too bad they didn’t get their happy ending. Next week, I have my English presentation.
Trust Me, Trust Me Not (Gavert City Book 3) Page 15
