All of It

by Kim Holden

  The service is fairly non-descript and quite generic, lots of praying and singing dull hymns that Teagan would’ve hated. I suppose it’s the type delivered when the priest has no personal relationship with the deceased. It’s one-size fits all, insert name here, blah, blah, blah. It makes me sad. The last straw comes when the priest calls him Teagan James Marshall. His name is Teagan Michael Marshall for Christ’s sake. (No offense, I know I’m in a holy place). Moments after this faux pas the priest asks if anyone has anything they would like to say before the final prayer.

  I clear my throat, unsure how I’m going to get through this, and I squeeze the life out of Dimitri’s hand. He squeezes back and I know this gesture is meant to give me strength and urge me on.

  I clear my throat again as I stand. “His name is Teagan Michael, not Teagan James. He was the brother I never had. Well, I guess technically we were blood brothers. At least that’s what he called it. One summer day when we were ten years old, he cut our palms with a pocket knife we found at the park, and we sealed it with a handshake.” I hear a lone, low laugh and look up to see Tate smiling at me from a few pews away. Tate was at the park that day with us, but he was smart enough not to agree to cutting himself with a dirty, discarded knife. His cheeks are wet with tears. “Teagan never thought of me as a girl back then, so of course we had to be blood brothers.” My voice starts to get croaky, but I forge on. “Teagan wasn’t perfect. He was crude, and rude, and … and boisterous. But, he was Teagan, which also meant that he was funny, protective, honest … even when I didn’t want to hear it.” I look at Tate again, who’s wearing a knowing smile. He’s remembering too. Remembering our Teagan. “Teagan was fiercely loyal and caring in a way only Teagan could be.” I take another deep breath before I finish the most un-eloquent eulogy in history. “I wish I wasn’t here right now. I wish this didn’t happen. But please know that I love you, Teag. I always will. You’ll always be in my heart. And tell my mom and dad I said hi.”

  Dimitri squeezes my hand as I sit down. The look in his eyes says well done.

  One by one people stand to say their own words. I hear my sentiment repeated over and over again. “I love you, Teagan.” “I love you, Teagan.” “I love you, Teagan.” Over and over.

  The service wraps up when the church falls silent, which takes a while because Teagan is loved.

  A lot.

  The crowd moves to their cars, and each vehicle proceeds slowly, single file, to the nearby cemetery. Once there, the priest says a prayer, reads a passage from the Bible, and asks Teagan’s family members to each place a rose on top of Teagan Michael (he remembered) Marshall’s casket before it’s lowered in the ground. His father weeps uncontrollably the entire time. I should probably offer my condolences, it would be the right thing to do, but I can’t get over the violence and pain he brought to Teagan’s life. Now he’s the one suffering. I hope he realizes what a beautiful child he brought to this world. As I watch him, I can only think of one word—redemption. I hope for his sake he finds it somewhere, anywhere, and that it’s enough to lead him to get help he needs.

  Teagan’s aunt hands me a rose and nudges me forward toward the casket. Dimitri’s hand rests against my lower back reassuringly. Seeing the casket in the church was sad. Seeing it here makes it real. So real. He’s gone. I place my rose with the others, gently, like I might disturb Teagan if I move too fast. The gesture feels final, but comforting. Offering this tangible token is like being allowed to leave a piece of my heart with him. I like that. “Bye Teag.”

  There’s a small gathering back at the church, but no one’s in the mood to socialize. Pain hangs heavy in the air and the crowd disperses quickly.

  I’m exhausted as Dimitri drives to my house. My head rests heavy against the seat back and I close my eyes. Dimitri drives silently for what must be ten or fifteen minutes before he clears his throat and rouses me from a groggy fog.

  “I’m sorry if you were sleeping, but I just wanted to tell you how proud I was of you today, Ronnie. What you said about Teagan was beautiful. And if he didn’t know how much you cared about him before, well … no one can deny it now.”

  “Thanks. He was a really good guy.”

  “He was. If I needed proof of that I could see it in how seriously he took his friendship with you. And for someone who looked for any excuse to kick my ass, I have to admit I even liked him.”

  A tired chuckle escapes me. “He really did look for any opportunity, didn’t he? I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. He meant well, for you at least.” He smiles through tired eyes.

  We pull up in front of my house shortly, and Dimitri walks me to the front door. I hesitate as I insert the key in the lock. I pull the key back out. “I think that maybe I need to use the back door today.”

  He’s surprised, but understands and nods in agreement.

  I open the door to the empty kitchen. For a moment I’d almost forgotten everything is gone. It seems like I’ve been away for a lifetime, not just a couple of days. A lot can happen in a couple days.

  Dimitri holds up my bag. “I’m just going to put this in your room. Do you want to come?”

  “Sure.”

  I stop at the top of the stairs when I realize he isn’t following. “You coming?” I ask.

  He walks toward me without a word and takes my hand, leading me away from the basement and down the hall to my parents’ room. The door is shut. “Close your eyes,” he says. “And please don’t be mad at me, Ronnie.”

  I close my eyes and hear the door creak open. He nudges me forward over the threshold. He moves to stand behind me, and rests his hands ever so lightly on my shoulders, whispering in my ear. “Before you open your eyes, please know that I love you more than life itself. I’m nothing without you. Please allow me this.” He takes a deep breath. “Now, open your eyes.”

  I take in my parents’ room. What was an empty room before is no longer empty. It’s filled with Dimitri’s bedroom furniture: the bed, the chair, and the painting of the phoenix. The walls have been painted and red drapes have been hung over the window. The room still smells slightly of fresh paint.

  I’m at a loss. “It’s your room.”

  He corrects me. “It’s our room.”

  “Our room,” I say, mulling it over. “Our room.”

  Acceptance begins to overtake my shock, and I nod. “Okay.”

  He kisses the back of my head. “Thank you.” He tosses my bag on the bed. “If I’m correct, I think Sebastian, Sunny, and Bob moved a few more things in yesterday. Let’s take a look in the living room.”

  The front room is still empty without the chairs and piano, but Dimitri’s sofa, tables, TV, stereo, and bookshelves have been set up in the living room. The walls have been painted, too, and there are new drapes hanging over the windows.

  “Wow, Sunny really went all out. It’s definitely not my parents’ house anymore, is it?” I don’t know what else to say. It looks great. It’s better than great. I never pictured myself living in a house this nice, this hip. But it’s still weird, even sad in a way.

  Dimitri’s eyes are pleading with me. “Ronnie, you were running a little low on furniture. I mean, I can appreciate minimalism, but …” He trails off. He’s trying to lighten the mood with some humor, but my uncertainty is killing him.

  I shrug. “It was unintentional minimalism anyway, does that even count?” He smiles slightly at my sad counter attempt at humor. “I’m sorry. I’m being an ungrateful bitch. After all that’s happened the past few days, I completely forgot I was coming back to an empty house. To be completely candid, I didn’t really intend to come back … here, or anywhere. It’s all a little shocking. I’m sorry.” My emotions tighten like a fist within me, choking off my words.

  He takes my hands as we stand in the middle of the empty front room. It’s just Dimitri, me, my pain, and my honesty in the barren space. “Ronnie, baby, I think you need to see a doctor. Someone you can talk to, someone that can help you, someone with med
icine …” His words trail off again, but his gaze is steady, unwilling to release its grip on mine. And his eyes tell all. Behind his words lay total anguish. This is harder for him than I ever imagined, and the past few days have been the hardest yet.

  I reach up and stroke his cheek with my hand. He’s so beautiful, even when he’s tired and broken. “I’ve been thinking a lot today. I mean, my mom always said it, but I am pretty sure I’ve been presented undeniable proof.” I pause as I watch his Adam’s apple move up and down, swallowing the lump in his throat. “There really aren’t any coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. I don’t know why I’m supposed to suffer through this depression. I don’t know that yet. But I do know that three nights ago, I lay awake all night crying, staring out at the Vegas strip thinking about every possible way to kill myself. Which would be the least painful, the quickest, the least … messy? And later, I found out that Teagan killed himself that very same night. That’s uncanny timing, don’t you think?”

  Dimitri nods in agreement through misty eyes.

  “The funeral today was awful. It gutted me. We shouldn’t have been there … any of us. He shouldn’t have done it. Don’t get me wrong I, of all people, can’t exactly fault him for it. Suicide is so fucking tempting. It’s, it’s …” I’m searching for the word, and notice Dimitri’s wincing at my explicitness. “It’s relief from the excruciating pain that bears down every single day. We all have our burdens to bear, and God knows Teagan had more than most. But if he could’ve sat there in that church and at the cemetery today and watched the emotional torment his death caused the people he loved—” I shake my head. “—I don’t think he would’ve done it.”

  The tears are in Dimitri’s eyes now. “It would be the same at your funeral, you know?”

  I’m eerily calm. “No, I don’t know that. But I assume it would be. And I know what you’re going to ask next.” I bite my lip. “After seeing their faces, and picturing you in that much pain,” I shake my head at the ground before looking into Dimitri’s eyes, “I don’t think I can do it. Today was a horrible reality check.” My thoughts are getting ahead of me and a humorless chuckle escapes me. “It’s funny. I always thought I was the one taking care of Teagan, I mean he called me Mom, for God’s sake. In an ironically auspicious twist I think the scale was tipped more in my direction than I ever realized. In a strange way I feel like Teagan was, and is, my guardian angel. He always looked out for me in life and now his death has prevented mine.” I heave a heavy sigh.

  Dimitri’s eyes are searching mine. “I guess I’m indebted to Teagan for the rest of my life.”

  I take his hand in mine, and place them both over my heart. “I’m not going to lie to you. The pain is still here. And it’s still heavy. I’ve been carrying it so long that it feels like an extra limb. It’s part of me. And it still scares the hell out of me. I pray to God it’s not permanent, but I do feel different today. I can’t say it’s hope, but it’s something close. It’s not total despair, and that feels almost human and lovely. I can’t allow Teagan’s death to have happened in vain. I owe it to him to fight. I owe it to you to fight.” At this, I squeeze his hand, and bring it up to my lips to kiss his fingers. “You’ve stood by me the past year when everyone else abandoned me. I know it wasn’t for my sparkling personality or my shitty conversation skills. What I want to know is, why?”

  He pulls my hand toward his lips and kisses my own fingers. He sniffles as he says, “You know why, Ronnie. Because I love you. I’m undeniably devoted to you. You have no idea how special you are to me. I don’t think that most people could even comprehend a love this intense.”

  “I think maybe I can … and do. I love you, too. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything—especially for being Dimitri Glenn. I wouldn’t be here without you.” Our eyes are both heavy with tears and exhaustion. I nod my head toward the hallway. “Come on Mr. Sleepy Face, you need some rest. I hope this bed of yours—” I stop to correct myself. “I mean, ours, is comfortable.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches and lifts precariously into his familiar old mischievous smile as he eyes me. “Oh, I’d say it’s plenty comfortable enough for just about anything.”

  Life is sometimes … auspicious.

  Chapter 21

  Pain endured

  Light ahead

  Despite the innuendos and the fact that, for the first time, we are sleeping together in our own bed, we both fall asleep instantly. And tonight, my dreams return.

  The snow is heavy on the ground and in the air. The wind is biting and evil—the kind of wind that gets into your bones and freezes you from the inside out. I have to lift my layered skirts, which are sodden and heavy, to walk up the hill through the freshly-fallen, knee-deep snow. Normally Dimitri wouldn’t get the horse and buggy out of the barn in this type of weather for anything short of an emergency, but this is an important day. When I reminded him of it this morning, I knew he wouldn’t deny me the three-mile drive.

  It’s been snowing like this all morning. I blink against the sting of the snowflakes as they strike my face like a million tiny needles. “We’re close. It’s there—just beyond that tree.”

  Even though the storm is violent, the snow on the ground is so fresh and undisturbed that it feels almost criminal to trudge through it. I pull the wool blanket tighter around my shoulders and feel Dimitri’s hand strong against my back, steadying me. The walk from the road up the hill is challenging in the snow, but I’m determined. Dimitri holds on to me with one arm, and carries a small shovel in the other. We trudge on.

  We arrive at the top of the hill, where a mighty oak shelters us from the worst of the storm. From its trunk, I walk three paces north and rest my hands on my knees bending over to shield my face from the driving snow and to catch my breath.

  “Good thing we didn’t wait another hour or it would have been covered and we wouldn’t have been able to find it. I think they were waiting for you,” Dimitri says, stepping around me and reaching down. The top of a gray stone marker is just visible, and he begins to brush away the snow. Then, he takes his shovel and deftly removes the rest of the snow, revealing the bare earth in front of the marker. I step into the clearing wiggling my toes in my thin, ankle-high boots to bring some feeling back to my feet. Then I kneel down on the wet dirt, looking directly at the marker as Dimitri continues to clear the snow behind me. I brush my glove across the surface until I can see what’s written there:

  William Smith Josephine Smith

  Born May 25, 1824 Born May 23, 1824

  Died January 12, 1867 Died January 12, 1867

  I visit them once a week on foot if weather permits, but each time I look at their names it brings on a momentary wave of terror. These days, it’s over as quickly as it comes, but the finality of their names in stone is always disturbing. “It’s been exactly a year, but not a day goes by that I don’t miss them terribly,” I say, almost as if I’m speaking to the stone itself.

  Dimitri’s standing behind me in the clearing now and I feel, through the layers of sweaters and blankets, his hands on my back and shoulders attempting to sooth me. “I know. I miss them, too.”

  I reach deep in my pockets and empty two handfuls of small rocks on the frozen ground. I work quickly but diligently. When I’m done the word LOVE is spelled out in rocks at the base of grave marker.

  I look back at Dimitri and shrug. “No flowers.”

  He bends over and kisses the top of my hat. “I think it’s brilliant. They would love it. No pun intended.”

  “You know I still believe they’re with me.”

  He nods. “They’re always with you,” he says in a comforting voice. “In your heart and especially in your memories.”

  I stand and turn to face him, squinting against the bombarding snow. “Their death has been very difficult for me to deal with this past year, but you’ve stood by me. And you’re here today, in the middle of a blizzard. Why?”

  He squeezes my hands and sniffles,
“You know why, Ronnie. Because I love you. I’m undeniably devoted to you. You have no idea how special you are to me. I don’t think that most people could even comprehend a love this intense.”

  “I think maybe I can … and do. I love you, too.”

  My eyes open to total darkness. I blink several times. I blink twice more just to be sure I’m awake and release the death grip I have on the sheet covering me. I hear soft breathing to my left and it takes me a moment to realize it’s Dimitri. We’ve slept all afternoon and all night in our clothes. So much for the nap. He’s sprawled out on his back, taking up a good two thirds of the bed. His hand is resting on my shoulder. Good thing the bed’s a king size, or I may have been forced to the floor. I slip out as quietly as possible to avoid waking him.

  I return from the bathroom to find him awake, propped up against two pillows. It’s almost dawn.

  “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” I talk quietly as if there are others in the house I might disturb if I don’t keep my voice down. I guess I’m used to silence in the morning after spending a year alone in this house.

  He smiles. “It’s okay. I have trouble sleeping when you’re not with me.”

  I crawl across the bed and lay my head on his chest. “I thought you told me once you were an insomniac. You’ve slept like the dead these past few days.”

  He flashes his knowing smile and winks. “Like I said, I have trouble sleeping when you’re not with me. I wish I would’ve found you years ago; it would’ve been much easier on my constitution. The real question is, how did Ronnie sleep in her new, oh-so-comfy bed?” He’s rubbing the sheets on either side of him for added effect.

  “I dreamt,” I say, smiling. I know he’ll be pleased. He’s always been interested in my dreams, and I haven’t had any since my parents died.

  He sits bolt upright and catches my head in his lap. “You did? What was it about?”

  I sit up and wrap my arms around his waist. “Visiting my parents’ graves. It was like a hundred years ago and there was a blizzard.”