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Dark Secrets Box Set

Page 25

by Angela M Hudson


  “He does this, you know?” She smiled sympathetically. “If things get too… emotional, he takes off for a few days. But he’ll be at the funeral on Thursday. I’m sure you can speak to him then.”

  “But what if it wasn’t because of Nathan that he left? What if it was for some other reason? Would he still come back for the funeral?”

  “What other reason would he have?” she asked, smiling at Spencer as he walked past. He didn’t smile back.

  “What’s the deal with Spence?” I asked. “Was he close to Nathan?”

  “No. You saw that, huh? The quick-look-away thing he does.”

  “Yeah. Does he do that a lot?”

  “Every time I look at him.”

  “And you think it’s ’cause he doesn’t like you?” I tried not to laugh.

  “It must be. Why would he do it if he liked me?”

  “Because, Emily”—I shoved my notes on the chair and stood up—“he’s a guy. They’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

  “Ara!” she squeaked. “What are you doing?”

  I ignored her, walking over to Ryan, Alana and Spencer. My brilliant idea of setting Emily up with Mike was about to go out the window…

  “Hey, guys.”

  “Hey, Ara.” Alana leaned a little closer. “I was thinking… about the sleepover this weekend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Um, could we… maybe move it to next weekend?” She nodded at Emily sitting low in her chair, staring at her feet. “Might be a bit much.”

  “Yeah. That’s cool. Next week’ll be fine.”

  “So, Ara?” Ryan asked. “Are you coming to the wake at Betty’s on Thursday night?”

  “I um, I didn’t know about it. Why is Mrs. Rossi doing it there?”

  “She’s not,” Ryan said, placing his arm around Alana. “It’s just a bunch of us kids farewelling Nathan in our own way. Betty’s was his favorite burger joint—we figure it’s appropriate.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, that sounds cool. I guess I’ll try, but I may have to go to Mrs. Rossi’s with my dad, you know, pay my respects as a family.”

  “I get it. Totally cool. If we see you there, we see you there,” Ryan said.

  “Hey, so you two are going together, right?” I asked Alana and Ryan.

  “Yup.”

  “So why don’t you take Emily, Spence? I know she needs a ride,” I lied, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the fact that I couldn’t know that since I didn’t even know about the wake before now.

  Spencer smiled over at Emily and quickly averted his eyes before she looked up.

  Hopefully, this was one match that’d work out well.

  14

  “Dad, you look nice.” My voice trailed up as I set eyes upon my suit-wearing father.

  “Thank you, Ara.” He nodded solemnly.

  It hurt to hear his voice sounding so flat and sad. “You okay, Dad?”

  “I’m fine, honey.”

  I stopped him as he started walking away. “Is this dress okay for a funeral?”

  His lips twisted tightly as he studied my mournful black attire: a soft cotton dress with a burgundy belt around the waist. “Ara, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  I frowned up at him. “For a funeral?”

  “Yes. It’s just that… you don’t have to be there, honey.” His eyes held an obvious memory of the last funeral I attended. “Are you sure you can cope with this?”

  “No, Dad. I’m not sure. I’m actually not sure about anything anymore. But I want to go—for Emily and… David.” His name stuck in my throat.

  Dad nodded, but didn’t speak.

  The clock on the wall at the base of the stairs chimed eight. The funeral wasn’t until nine o’clock, but Mrs. Rossi asked my dad and his family to attend a church service beforehand.

  “Had breakfast?” Dad asked, heading down the stairs.

  “Yeah,” I lied. I knew I should sit at the table and eat with him—maybe even have a coffee to help ease the chill in my skin from my early morning run—but he was better than anyone at seeing through my mask; I wasn’t okay. I wasn’t ready to see a coffin or see people crying. But I had to see David one last time before he was gone from my life forever. I had to say I was sorry for breaking up with him on the day he lost a friend.

  I sat at the base of the stairs, hugging the post, listening to the calm of the house—the way the smell of toast could make everything seem kind of okay—and my hunger pangs grew, twisting my gut into knots. I thought about getting up to eat but, instead, sat watching my father with a careful eye. I wondered where his thoughts were, where his heart was, as his gaze fell on the road outside, his chin rested on his hands. He said so little about what he felt or how he was coping that, watching him, seeing him look so sad and distracted, came as a bit of a shock.

  “All set to go, are we?” Vicki asked, coming down the stairs.

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you eat?”

  I nodded, resting my head against the post after.

  “Vicki.” Dad smiled at her adoringly as he came in from the kitchen. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you, Greg.” She straightened the front of her skirt. “I’m just sorry for the occasion.”

  Dad nodded, and the sadness stole the smile from his blue eyes.

  Vicki did look nice in black, but it seemed like such an unfriendly color, almost cruel really to say goodbye to someone in. If my last memory were of my funeral, I’d want to see everyone dressed in colors to celebrate my life instead of mourn it.

  “Sam, you ready?” Vicki called.

  “One minute, Mom.”

  “Hurry up. We’ll be in the car.”

  “Okay.”

  Dad grabbed the keys and Vicki shouldered her purse, and as she pulled the front door open my breath stopped short of my lips. The cool morning air blew across my knees, and the sun reflected brightly off the damp black road outside, blinding me. But my eyes did not betray the perfection standing before them.

  “David?” Dad said cheerfully. “You’re right on time.”

  Right on time?

  David stood in the doorway with one hand in the pocket of his tailored black suit as he shook my dad’s with the other. “Good to see you again, Mr. Thompson; Mrs. Thompson.” He nodded politely at Dad, then Vicki, and turned his head to look directly at me. I was shrinking. I could feel it. I wanted to close my mouth, wipe the dumbfounded stare off my face, but I really loved David too much to hide the elation in my soul.

  “Good morning, Ara,” he said in that smooth, weightless voice.

  “Um… hi,” I said, and my eyes fell to the floor.

  “Uh, Ara?” Dad broke the lengthy silence that followed. “Since you kids are having your own wake at Betty’s, I thought you might like to ride in with David?”

  “You mean you assumed?”

  “Ara?” Vicki gasped.

  “No, she’s right, Vicki,” Dad said softly. “I’m sorry, honey. I did think it would be okay.”

  I folded my arms, biting my teeth together. It wasn’t supposed to be like this; I was supposed to see him from afar—supposed to prepare myself for talking to him; to apologize and then leave it at that—and now Dad had just singlehandedly destroyed all the resolve I had to be sensible and mature and just let David leave my life, like a sane person would.

  “I’ll just see you there then.” David looked at me once, then turned stiffly away.

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go. I said you should have checked with me first.”

  David stopped.

  “Okay, Ara.” Dad patted my arm. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

  I took off, skulking along behind David, piercing his soul with eyes like daggers when he opened the car door for me. “I can get the door myself.”

  “I’m sorry.” He took a step back. “I know you can. I was…”

  I pushed past him and slumped into the passenger seat, shutting the door on whatever he was going to say. “And you
can shut up too,” I barked at the ogre in my belly.

  Alone in the car, while Dad talked to David by the mailbox, the woodsy lemon smell of his seats stirred the memory of our picnic by the lake, making my stomach growl again. I looked over at Dad, his hand on David’s shoulder, with Vicki jumping in to touch his arm. It was nice of them to just leave me sitting here in the muggy heat, waiting—with only my beastly ogre to keep me company.

  David glanced over at me, just for a second, and then shook my dad’s hand, jerking his head in my direction. I saw Dad’s mouth move, breaking into a grin, and I knew they were laughing at my mood—they always did.

  David slid into the car, closing the door on a roll of thunder. “You okay?”

  I cleared my throat and looked out the window. “I’m fine.”

  “You haven’t eaten. Clearly.”

  “I’m fine,” I muttered.

  “You know, you could’ve said no.” He started the engine. “I didn’t force you to come in my car.”

  “You could’ve said no, too.”

  “Your dad asked me. What was I supposed to say?”

  “Hmph.” I refolded my arms for good measure as we reversed down the drive.

  By the time the church came into focus on the distant horizon, the silence in the car had evolved into a big fat cloud of tension. I just wanted to hurry up and get there so my mouth couldn’t accidentally start an argument with him again about his dark secrets, but David was driving much more carefully and a hell of a lot slower than usual. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep quiet.

  When the car finally pulled up in a parking space, my door swung open and David offered his hand before I even saw him pull the key from the ignition.

  “God! Don’t do that!”

  “What?” He looked ultimately confused.

  “You keep popping up, like, way too fast.”

  “Ara, I didn’t this time. I swear. You must have blacked out, sweetheart—”

  “Don’t call me that!” Ignoring his offer of assistance, I grabbed the doorframe and hoisted my dizzy self from the car, taking inconspicuously deep breaths to steady the ringing in my ears.

  “Are you okay?” His hand hovered near my waist. “You’re really pale.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, scowling at him.

  “You’re not fine.” He stood taller. “Would you like me to take you home?”

  For a moment, my gaze lingered between the church and freedom, but Emily caught my eye and waved softly. I waved back and shut the car door. “No. Then everyone will wonder why the new girl suddenly disappeared from a funeral—questions would follow.”

  David laughed a little, wiping the amusement from his face quickly when he looked at mine. “I’m sorry. Um… shall we go in?”

  “Lead the way,” I offered, and walked slowly behind him, in no rush to be stuck in that dreary red-bricked building.

  * * *

  “Mr. Knight.” The priest by the door shook David’s hand. “Lovely to see you again.”

  “You too, Father.” David turned to a short, portly woman in a black tunic then, and kissed both her cheeks, offering condolences in another language. Italian, I think.

  “Thank you for coming, David.” She reached up and stroked his face. “My Nathan would be so proud to see you all here.”

  “He was a good boy.” David squeezed her hand.

  She smiled, her pudgy face tight with sorrow. “And who do we have here?”

  “This”—David stepped back and placed his arm around my waist, pulling me closer—“is Ara Thompson.”

  Her eyes went from David to me, widening. “My dear child. How sweet of you to come.”

  I smiled softly, because there wasn’t much I could say.

  “You’re so much like your mother,” she said, taking my hand in her moist, plump grip. “And is your father far behind?”

  I gave a quick glance into the parking lot. “He’ll be here any minute.”

  She nodded, patting my hand. “Well, I’ll see you both after the ceremony.”

  “You will.” David kissed her cheek again and stepped across the threshold of the church, smiling as he made the sign of the cross over his body.

  I dipped my fingers in the holy water by the door and did the same. “This isn’t the time to smile, David.”

  He dropped his private, glittering grin. “Sorry. I was… remembering something.”

  “What?”

  “Private joke.”

  “Same old story,” I scoffed, turning away a little too quickly. The walls grew taller around me then, seeming to reach miles up into the sky, gathering a deathly chill from the outer atmosphere and sending it down here to make my stomach churn.

  I closed my eyes for a second and shut everything out: the muffled sobs and whispers, the dreary organ music and the sound of paper rustling on the wooden backs of chairs.

  “You should have let me take you home, Ara.” David grabbed my arm and gently steered me to the edge of the pew, sliding in and pushing me further up to allow room for more people. I wrapped my fingers around the back of the seat in front of me, taking slow, deep breaths until the bile pinching my tongue eased off.

  “Mint?” he offered.

  I grabbed one from the tiny tin and popped it in my mouth, refusing to look at him.

  “You’re welcome,” he said smugly and stuffed them back in his pocket.

  Then the priest began, as did the incessant kneeling and standing. After communion, I knelt beside David and opened one eye to watch him. He seemed intent on his prayer; his eyes closed tight, lips moving fast—speaking in tongues. Okay, so not in tongues, but something that sounded remarkably like Latin. He never mentioned religion before. I didn’t even know he was Catholic and did not know he spoke Latin. But why not? He spoke Italian. And French. But then, Mike spoke French, too, but that was different because his mom was French, so he grew up with it.

  “Focus, Ara,” David whispered quietly.

  I turned my head, closed my eyes, and continued the Hail Mary I’d started, just as everyone around us shuffled in their places and began to sit back in the pews.

  David reached across and helped me up gently by my arm.

  I glared at him, jerking away. “I can get myself up, thank you.”

  “Sorry.” He swallowed, rubbing the left side of his chest as he looked to the front. When his hand dropped back into his lap, I studied the fine lines in his knuckles, the squared tips of his nails and the curl of his fingers, imagining mine wound through them.

  Until he folded his arms, readjusting his seat.

  The eulogies given by Nathan’s family and friends seemed to go on forever. Thankfully, from all the way up the back, I couldn’t see Nathan in that open box unless I angled my face the right way. Mom and Harry had closed caskets. I don’t think I’d have coped with seeing their faces so still, so devoid of life. Just seeing Harry’s tiny coffin beside Mom’s was enough to haunt me forever. It seemed strange how, no matter how big you thought someone was in life, when you lay them down with six sides wrapping them tightly, they just look so small. It wasn’t right to see a coffin that small.

  David moved his hand onto mine and squeezed firmly. “Just don’t think about it, Ara.”

  I turned my head to look at him, but he kept his eyes forward, as if he hadn’t said anything.

  “Nathan was and will always be a well-respected and much loved friend.” I tuned in to the voice of Emily, reading from a stack of palm cards up the front. “He was there to give advice or a quick word of encouragement to anyone—be they a friend, a Chess Club kid, or even someone he didn’t know.

  “Nathan was the guy we all expected to see graduate with honors, make the national football league, marry the prom queen.” Emily smiled shyly then, looking down. “Death is sad in any case, but when it comes so suddenly and takes the life of someone who had so much to offer the world, it truly is tragic.” She stepped down and placed the cards inside the casket. “We’ll all miss you, N
athe. Rest in peace.”

  David’s hand tightened on mine, and a single cool drop of water fell between our palms. I looked up and saw him nodding, breathing out slowly through parted lips.

  “David?”

  He sniffed and shook his head, wiping a line of moisture from his chin. “Just don’t.”

  “Okay,” I said, squeezing his hand.

  * * *

  The gray sky opened up as we stepped outside the church, and the cool breeze eased the trapping tension of my very empty stomach. Small droplets of rain began to sprinkle over the black hearse while David and a group of boys from the football team carried the pine box and slid it into the back.

  They walked by the hearse after that, leading the procession line through the church gates and into the cemetery. Each headstone we passed displayed names, dates, flowers, some even pictures of those who lay beneath—every little detail showing the life they once belonged to. I closed my eyes and let the darkness narrow me in, the sobs of huddled mourners around me guiding my blind footsteps until a hand grabbed my arm.

  My eyes flashed open to David’s face.

  “Don’t walk with your eyes closed,” he said, “it’s dangerous.”

  I nodded, tucking my cold, shaking hands into my elbows, and David walked away, back to his place beside the black car. When a loud grumble rolled across the darkening sky, everyone looked up—squinting against the white sun until a cloud shadowed its glare. Icy patters of rain came down again, and little black umbrellas popped up all around me. I folded over ever so slightly, remembering how the uninvited rain ruined my last chance to farewell my family; how it blinded me, made me so cold and so wet I had to fight with myself to stay. I hoped it wouldn’t do the same to Nathan’s family.

  “Are you okay, dear?” a haggard old lady asked, reaching for me.

  I nodded, about to take a step away when a long arm scooped my waist and pulled me under the shelter of a black canopy. “She’s fine. She’s with me.”

  “Okay.” The old lady smiled at David.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be up front?” I asked, craning my neck to look up at him.

 

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