WrongorWriteBoxedSetstripped

by Sky Corgan

  There were definitely romantic feelings there. I loved Lawrence. How could I not love him after spending four years of my life with him. In fact, I was pretty sure that I was in love with him, but I was afraid to face those feelings. Every time they became too strong, I tried to squash them down, reminding myself that we'd never have what regular people did. While I was starting to come around to the idea of having a normal relationship, he was still recovering from his marriage. The things his ex-wife put him through made him afraid to commit, and I could understand why. From what he had told me, she had been a horrible woman, verbally and physically abusive, cheating on him, and then leaving him high and dry when the divorce was finally settled. He said that ring had changed everything with them. 'The one ring to rule his balls' he not so affectionately called it. The first time he told me that, I laughed so hard that water came out my nose. He didn't think it was so funny though.

  Oh well, it was what it was. Things were great with Lawrence, so I had no real reason to complain. Maybe someday he would change, like I had, and if not, then I just hoped that my yearning for more didn't eventually get stronger. I doubted it would ever grow strong enough for me to leave him, but you never know. Life is funny that way. One day, you want something, and when you get it, it seems perfect. Fast forward a few weeks/months/years, and that perfect thing no longer fits your lifestyle.

  The day went on like any other. I had it off, so I spent the first half cleaning Lawrence's townhouse before I returned home to lounge around until he got off work. Cleaning his place was the least I could do since he had promised to take me out to an expensive dinner that night. Oftentimes, when I stayed over at Lawrence's house and had the next day off, I would clean. He worked long hours and didn't get much time off, so I thought it would help him out a little. Plus, it was an extra way of telling him I loved him, even though we verbally expressed it regularly enough.

  “Big date tonight?” Alice grinned at me as she watched me walk out of my bedroom.

  “No bigger than any other night,” I replied, sitting down on the sofa beside her and adjusting the sterling silver moon and heart necklace that Lawrence had bought me for Valentine's Day the previous year.

  “If you say so.” She turned her attention back to the television, though the grin never left her face.

  “What are you smiling about?” I eyed her suspiciously.

  “Just something I saw on television.”

  Not likely. She was watching a documentary on dolphins being captured in fishing nets, so I doubted there was anything grin-worthy about it. Before I had a chance to probe further, my phone rang. I quickly grabbed it from the coffee table to look at the number, half expecting it would be Lawrence calling to cancel on me. It happened sometimes, when the hospital required him to work later than normal. It wasn't his name that flashed across my caller ID though, but the name of an uncle I hadn't spoken to in a while. Not thinking anything of it, I answered, sounding as chipper as I possibly could. The voice on the end of the line was distraught, though I could tell he was trying his best to be calm.

  “Tara, I have horrible news,” my uncle said, sending chains of tightness around my heart to constrict it in fear of the worst. “Your parents were in a head-on collision with a drunk driver last night. They died on impact.”

  Chapter 6

  I drove toward San Antonio with a numbness in my heart that had been lingering there ever since I heard the news. I still couldn't believe my parents were gone. Both of them. It had happened so suddenly and without warning.

  The entire drive to the funeral home was riddled with bouts of uncontrollable crying and regret. Why hadn't I visited them more often? I was a horrible daughter. I had cut them off almost as bad as I had my friends, only visiting on holidays. Some holidays, I didn't come home at all. I simply called to tell them I loved them. In truth, we had drifted apart since I left for college, but they weren't any less my parents. Conversations I had with my mom rolled through my mind, all the times she'd ask me when I was coming home for a visit and then the sound of disappointment in her voice when I'd put it off because of work or something else stupid. I hated myself for it now, wished it was me who had died instead of them. There was nothing that could be done about it though. They were gone, and I was still here, and I would have to live with this regret for the rest of me life. So many mistakes I had made. Would I ever do anything right, ever learn not to be selfish?

  My Aunt Erica and Uncle Raymond were waiting for me at the funeral home. They hugged me and gave me their condolences, then handed me the keys to my parents' house and walked with me inside to view the bodies. I broke down on sight of them. They had been pretty mangled in the accident, but the mortician had done his best to piece them back together into something fit for viewing. It was hard seeing my parents like that, dead and still and pale, with sunken faces that made them look more like deflated dolls than people.

  “Oh God,” I sobbed into my Aunt Erica's shoulder while she ran her fingers through my hair.

  “I know. It will be alright. They loved you very much,” she said soothingly.

  There was no doubt in my mind that they loved me very much. They had always gone out of their way to show it. But did they know that I loved them? Judging by how I had acted these past few years, I couldn't help but doubt it. Being in that room with them, I just wanted to die, to lie down beside them and be buried. Or even better, offer my soul in exchange for bringing one of them back, or both, if God would allow me to be greedy. That's not how this worked though.

  “Where are you staying?” Uncle Raymond asked.

  “A friend got me a hotel room near the cemetery until after the funeral,” I replied. It was Lawrence's way of showing me support since I told him not to bother taking off for the funeral. He had never known my parents, so it would just seem strange if he was there, especially since none of my family had ever met him before.

  “Well, we'd like to take you to dinner tonight and catch up, if that's alright. I know you've had a long drive.”

  “It wasn't that long of a drive, but I could use getting away from here for a while.”

  We gave my parents lingering respectful looks before we headed out the door. The cool air felt good against my face, washing away the scent of formaldehyde, paint, and flowers that made the funeral home all the more unpleasant. There was no stifling it. It just came with the territory of being around dead people.

  My mind lingered on the image of my mother and father in their caskets, and again regret flooded through me, causing my eyes to water. I would be a mess for the rest of the night. The wound of losing them was still so new. I wondered how long it would take for the pain to go away.

  We carpooled to a Mexican restaurant down the road. It seemed like my aunt and uncle's moods had lifted since we left the funeral home. Perhaps they were just trying to seem more chipper for me, though there was still deep sympathy in their expressions and voices.

  “I wish I would have come home more often,” I said with a sigh as we sat to wait for the waitress to bring us menus.

  “I think they understood that you had your own life,” Aunt Erica told me. She was a gorgeous Hispanic woman, not related to me by blood, though I felt closer to her than all of my other biological aunts. My uncle had really lucked out by marrying her. She was loving, funny, and sharp as a tack when she needed to be.

  “I did have my own life, but I should have included more of them in it.”

  “Well, I'm sure they wouldn't want you to think like that,” my uncle chimed in, keeping his eyes to the table as if the subject made him uncomfortable.

  “Yeah, Mama. Try to remember them as they were. They loved you very much,” Aunt Erica said.

  “What are you going to do with the house?” Uncle Raymond asked.

  “I haven't even really thought about it.”

  “Well, it's something you're going to have to think about. The house is yours now.”

  “Raymond,” Aunt Erica chastised him. “She ju
st got here. She doesn't need to worry about that now.”

  “Well, I'm just saying. Owning a house is a big responsibility. She needs to start going through their stuff and figure out what she's going to do with it if she's going to sell it.”

  “I know. But she doesn't need to think about that now,” her voice was stern, quickly silencing him. “Besides, it's a beautiful house. I see no reason why she wouldn't want to move back into it.”

  “I definitely don't want to move back into it,” I said quickly.

  “Why not? Too many memories?” She gave me an earnest look.

  “Something like that.”

  I had spent my entire life trying to escape Castroville. There was no way I was going to move there. My uncle was right though, if I wasn't planning on moving back, then the house would need to be cleared out. I had taken a week off from work, and the funeral wasn't for two more days. Perhaps after the funeral was over, I could head to Castroville and start figuring things out.

  The majority of the meal was spent discussing the fond memories my aunt and uncle had of my parents. I always found it interesting to hear about the time before I was born. When my uncle started getting too sentimental, conversation turned to what my cousins were up to. Most of them had kids of their own already. It was strange thinking about how everyone else's lives had gone through the natural progression, and I was lagging behind.

  “Are you still seeing that doctor?” Aunt Erica asked.

  “Yeah. We still go on dates.”

  “My God, girl, when is he going to put a ring on it? You guys have been together forever now.”

  “Four years,” I sighed, thinking about Lawrence.

  He had been nothing but supportive when I told him what had happened. We canceled our dinner plans, and he cradled me in his arms while I cried, telling me that everything would be alright. It was like a big kumbaya moment on the couch that night, with me being hugged between Alice and Lawrence like I was some small child who needed protection. I was shattered though, and they were doing everything they could to keep me together.

  Now that my parents were gone, I felt so alone. It changed the way I thought about my relationship with Lawrence. I needed a deeper connection, something permanent to ground me. Maybe we could discuss it when I got back.

  My uncle paid for dinner, we hugged out in the parking lot, and then parted ways. I knew I would see them at the funeral home again tomorrow, along with a torrent of other relatives and family friends I hadn't seen in ages. That's usually how these things worked. It would be best if I just went back to the room and had a good night's sleep so that I would be mentally prepared to face it all the next day.

  I called Alice and Lawrence when I got back to the room to let them know I was alright, then took a long hot shower and curled up in bed for sleep, wondering who all I would see at the funeral home the following day. It was going to be exhausting dealing with all the crying relatives and keeping myself together at the same time, listening to all the recollections of times past that I hadn't experienced. Mourning was never fun.

  The next day, I woke up bright and early, got dressed, and went downstairs for continental breakfast. Then I put on my brave face and headed back to the funeral home. It had just opened, so no one was there yet, and I was allowed a few moments alone with my parents. I looked over their bodies, combing my father's hair into the normal style he usually wore instead of the one the mortician had chosen for him. For some reason, they never quite got it right. As I did, my eyes began to well up with tears, and I found myself mumbling every apology I could think of.

  “I'm sorry I didn't come home more. I know you and mom wanted to see me so badly sometimes, and I just wouldn't come because I was being stupid and selfish. I love you guys so much, but I just didn't want to go back there. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Everyone was so nice to me. You were always so good. I just hated that town. Still hate it, and I don't even know why.

  “I never meant to hurt you by not coming home. You both deserved a better child than me, someone who was grateful.” Someone like Darren. He had probably been closer to my parents than I was. That thought made me even angrier at myself.

  “I wish I could trade places with you,” I continued. “Both of you. You guys did everything right. I'm doing everything wrong. I've spent my whole life trying not to turn into you, but what do I have to show for it? You had each other . . . and me. You did everything you could to make sure we had the best life possible. And I did everything for myself, and now I'm alone, dating a man I probably don't have a future with.”

  This was a bad time to bring Lawrence into this—a bad time to sound hateful after what he had done for me. He had been by my side for four years. Maybe he didn't want to get married and have kids, but he was happy to be by my side. He loved me and took care of me just as good as any husband. We didn't want to ruin the lives we had built for ourselves, did we? Wouldn't getting married just mess things up? It had for him and his ex-wife. And then what would Alice do?

  “I'm so fucking selfish,” I grumbled, sitting back in one of the chairs while I waited for my family members to arrive.

  The day was long and every bit as exhausting as I'd imagined it would be. Relatives, close and distant, came to pay their respects, along with several people whom I didn't know. There was the pastor from the local church as well as some of their church friends and my father's co-workers. They all gave me their condolences. I tried to handle the flow of people with as much poise and grace as I could muster.

  One more day. I thought as I headed back to the hotel room. Tomorrow would be the viewing and funeral, and then it would be over. What lie ahead was a far bigger task, dealing with their estate. Though several of my family members offered to help me go through my parents' stuff, I decided it was something I'd rather tackle alone. If it ended up being more than I could handle, I could always call for help later.

  The following day, I arrived bright and early at the funeral home again. The caskets had been moved into the church part of the funeral home for the service that would be taking place after lunch. I smiled as I entered the small church, admiring the flower arrangements that framed the two caskets.

  Curiously, I walked toward the front of the room, reading the cards on the flower arrangements to see who they were from. Most were from family, but there was an arrangement of roses from my father's work, and a large cross made from lilies that was signed by Darren's parents. My heart caught in my chest as I read their names on the card. Darren's name was nowhere to be seen.

  “They were your mother's favorite flower, I recall,” someone said from behind me, causing my entire body to tense as I recognized the voice.

  I turned around with my best fake smile, expecting to see the scrawny boy that I had shared so many of my firsts with. The man who stood before me made me choke on my own breath though. If he was half as shocked to look upon me as I was to look upon him, I didn't see it behind his Caribbean blue eyes. They were calm and unwavering, gazing at me empty of sentiment.

  “They were,” I stuttered, taking in every inch of the Adonis in front of me.

  Darren had filled out, and not in a bad way. His shoulders were broader, his jaw fuller. He'd traded the bowl haircut in for a messy tousled style neatly groomed on the sides, and he had a five o'clock shadow that made him look absolutely delicious. I found myself almost involuntarily undressing him with my eyes, knowing that what was beneath the gray pinstripe two button suit was nothing like I remembered. It was like looking at Darren for the first time and seeing what every single girl in high school had seen, but I had been too blinded by friendship to appreciate. He was gorgeous, and I immediately felt a twinge of jealousy when I saw the modelesque brunette on his arm.

  He's married. Of course he is. Why wouldn't he be? He was always perfect. Those were my first thoughts until I glanced at his hand and saw that there wasn't a ring. Then I felt guilty for checking in the first place. It didn't matter. He was in the past. We had
different lives now, and we didn't belong in each other's.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  “Fine. I'm fine, given the circumstances.” I said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

  Damn. His girlfriend is smoking hot. Way hotter than I am. I shouldn't be surprised though. He's quite the catch. He could always get someone better looking than me, even then. I don't know why he liked me back then.

  “This is Eleanor,” he introduced me to the beautiful creature at his side. “Eleanor, this is Tara, the friend I told you about.”

  “Hi,” she replied timidly, outstretching a perfectly manicured hand to shake mine.

  I greeted her with as much kindness as I could muster, though inside I was silently stewing at Darren for bringing her.

  “To be honest, I was kind of hoping I could sneak in and out without you noticing me,” he said.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I didn't think you'd want to see me. As I recall, you were a lot happier with me not in your life.” If there was pain in his voice, he hid it well. The conversation was as causal as if he was talking about the weather.

  “No. I mean, you were closer to my parents than I was,” I said with a sigh. “You should be here.”

  “Good. Then I'll inform my parents that they're welcome to attend the funeral. That will please them.”

  “Yes, of course. Of course, they're welcome.” I was sounding stupid. Oh my God, was I really being like this in front of Darren. It was Darren, for crying out loud, my high school friend, not some stud I had just met on the street. We knew each other—at least, used to know each other. He shouldn't be affecting me this way at all.

  “Excellent. Well, we won't stay long. I just wanted to come pay my respects real quick, in case I didn't get another chance.” He glanced at the caskets, and his blue eyes softened solemnly. I felt a twinge of empathetic pain, as if in that moment, I could understand how he felt. They were almost as much his parents as they were mine. We had shared parents growing up, and when I had left, he had filled the gap that my absence created. He deserved to be here just as much as I did.