by Cassia Leo
“Rory, hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says, her voice clear and congenial.
“Hi, Dr. Little. I didn’t know if you’d be available. I guess I was just… hoping you would be.”
“Oh, please call me Katherine. And I’m almost always available. I take two to four patients a day, but there are days I don’t have any. Like today. So I’m all yours.”
I cringe inside as I remember today is Saturday. “I’m sorry to bother you on a weekend.”
“No, don’t apologize. I just finished taking the dog for a walk. I’m in for the day. I’m happy to speak with you.” She adjusts her laptop screen or her camera a little, then she sits back in her chair. “So, your father told me you might have some things to talk about. I just want to start off by saying that you’re not at all obligated to tell me anything. Of course, the purpose of talking to a professional about things that are bothering us is because we’re able to offer an objective perspective. So the more you talk, the more you get out of this.”
I nod, though I have absolutely no idea where I’m supposed to start. How do I explain to her the utter clusterfuck that is my life?
She smiles. “How about we start with a simple question? How are you feeling today?”
I take a deep breath. “Confused.”
“Can you elaborate on that? Is there something that prompted your confusion?”
“Yeah, my dad. He just asked me to work for him. And part of me is happy that he and Ava—Ava is my best friend Hallie’s mother. Hallie’s dead. It’s a long story. Anyway, I’m happy that Ava and my dad are working together on something so positive, but another part of me knows that this will not go over well with Houston.”
“And who is Houston?”
“Ava’s son, and my ex-boyfriend… kind of.”
She scrunches her eyebrows together. I’m pretty sure she’s the one confused now. “Okay, how about you start from the beginning? I have a feeling I’ve been dropped into the story somewhere toward the end.”
I chuckle. “No kidding. Um… okay. It all started when I met Hallie, when we were eleven. Actually, I guess it started before that.”
I give Katherine a forty-five-minute distillation of everything that’s happened over the past fourteen years. Through it all, she nods and asks the occasional question, but mostly she just listens. And I find myself, for the first time in a long time, feeling like I’m entitled to my feelings. By the time I’m done, I already feel lighter.
Katherine purses her lips, then presses them together. She does this for a while as she considers everything I’ve just told her. Finally, she leans forward and asks me a very unexpected question.
“Can I ask why you feel the need to tell the story of you and Houston?”
At first, I’m a little offended by the question. As if she’s implying the story doesn’t need to be told. Then I draw in a deep breath, and it only takes a moment for me to realize she’s not asking why people need to read the story. She’s asking why I need to tell it.
I shake my head in dismay. “I don’t know.”
She nods, looking very pleased with my answer. “There you go. This is progress.”
I let out an awkward chuckle. “How is that progress?”
“Because we just discovered something we need to explore further.” She reaches for a notepad and a pen. “How about we do this again next week, same time? And in the meantime, I’d like to give you a little homework assignment. I’d like you to come up with at least one reason why you need to tell the story of Houston and Rory. And hopefully you’ll also have a decision about whether or not you want to work with your father. If not, we can discuss that next week, too.”
We end the call and I close my laptop feeling different. Like my problems are not roadblocks, they’re just speed bumps. They’re manageable, with a little extra perspective.
I let out a huge sigh of relief. My trepidation over talking to the therapist has been fully erased. Then, I look around my mom’s room and I remember that she was in here earlier doing God knows what.
I shake my head as I stand up and head for the door. I am not going to snoop through my mom’s things. Besides, I have enough to worry about without trying to figure out what she’s up to. Like how I’m going to tell Houston that my dad wants me to work for him. Unless Ava has already broken the news to Houston for me.
The Monday traffic on the 5 freeway was worse than anticipated. We arrive at Pioneer Cemetery twenty minutes before it closes at five p.m. The rain is coming down lightly, and the sun has almost completely set. The dying sunlight fuses with the precipitation, casting a misty emerald luminescence across the cemetery. The mineral-rich scent of freshly dug soil is thick in the air. The only good part about arriving this late is that there’s no sign of stragglers at Liam’s grave site.
I park the car and reach for Rory’s hand. “Wait. Do you want an umbrella?”
She shakes her head. “Please don’t insult me.”
I smile as I squeeze her hand. “Didn’t take long for the rain to wash the California off you.”
Though she clearly refused my offer of an umbrella, I still feel the need to wrap my arm around her as we walk toward the grave site. Something about being at a cemetery at sunset feels ominous. I want to keep her close in case the grave robbers and ghouls come out for a haunt.
The grave has already been sealed and covered with a fresh slab of sod, not that I’m surprised. A guy in one of my classes at UO used to work at Pioneer Cemetery. Shortly after Hallie’s funeral, I overheard him discussing how coffins are buried. He bragged about being able to put a coffin in the ground and cover it with dirt and sod in less than fifteen minutes. The crew who put Liam in the ground is long gone. All that’s left is a muddy rectangle surrounding the fresh carpet of grass and a few flower petals strewn about.
Images of that night at the hotel flash in my mind and I grit my teeth against the memory of the fury in Liam’s eyes. The man is dead and I’m still angry over his deluded sense of entitlement. Rory never belonged to Liam.
Rory slinks out from underneath my arm and takes a step toward the grave. I grab her wrist to stop her from stepping directly on it. Fresh soil can be unstable, especially in rainy conditions. The last thing I need is for her to get sucked into Liam’s grave.
She glances at my hand curled around her wrist, then she looks up at me. “Do you mind? I just want to pick something up.”
I let go of her and she kneels just outside the murky rectangle of sod. I can’t see what she’s reaching for until she pulls it out of the grass. A young dandelion weed. She stands and tucks the tiny golden flower in her pocket. The tension in my muscles eases as I realize why we’re here. Because Rory never belonged to Liam, but that doesn’t mean that a part of him won’t always belong to her.
“Let’s go see Hallie,” she says, her voice cracking under the strain of her emotions.
With eight minutes left until closing, there’s not much time to visit my sister’s grave, but I don’t mention this. This is the first time I’ve been here with Rory since Hallie’s funeral. I guess there are worse people to get locked in a cemetery with.
I park the car along the curved road, the place that marks the upper-right bend in the heart-shaped path at Pioneer Cemetery. As we walk through the maze of headstones, I notice the scent of fresh soil is gone, replaced by the crisp scent of grass coated in cold rain. The temperature is dropping quickly, and I’m pretty certain Rory’s jacket is almost soaked through, just like mine. I’m concerned about her not being able to feel the cold properly with her emotions running high.
The moment we get to Hallie’s grave, Rory sits down cross-legged on the squishy grass. She pats the ground for me to sit next to her. I stare at the headstone for a moment, unsure if this is the time or place to make myself comfortable. I swallow the lump in my throat as I prepare to tell Rory I’ll wait for her in the car, but when I look down at her she’s covering her face with her hands.
I let out a
sigh as I drop to my knees in front of her and reach for her face. “Hey, you don’t have to hide your tears.”
She lets her hands drop into her lap, but she doesn’t look up at me. “It feels like something is ending.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
She stares at the headstone for a moment before she reaches out and traces the year 2008. Letting out a soft sigh, she looks up at me with a question in her eyes. I hold my breath as I wait for her to speak.
“How often do you come here?” she asks.
Rory can see through me better than anyone.
“Three times since the divorce. Before that… never. Not since the funeral.”
She nods. “Can you bring me with you next time?”
“Of course.”
She sighs as she glances around the cemetery. “There’s something special about this place. It’s like a portal, to what or where I can’t figure out.”
“A portal to a higher dimension. Like we were living in 2D, and now we’re in full 3D high-def.”
She laughs. “If Hallie were here she’d make fun of you for saying that.”
“She is here.” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Rory looks me in the eye. “I guess she is. She’s everywhere.”
We sit in silence for a while, the rain disguising any evidence of tears. When the last wash of sunlight disappears over the horizon, and the darkness falls over us, I know we have to get going before we get locked in.
Rory is still cross-legged in front of me, but her eyes are closed. I reach for her hand slowly, afraid of startling her. The moment my skin touches hers, she gets up on her knees and throws her arms around my neck. I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her damp, trembling body tightly against mine.
She presses her lips to my ear and murmurs, “Thank you.”
The sensation of her lips on my skin sends signals to body parts that should not be awakened at my sister’s graveside. “Stand up, baby,” I whisper as I release her.
She lets go of me and I help her up. The moment she’s standing, she wraps her arms around my waist, burying her face in my chest. She’s not ready to leave.
I stand with her a while longer, rubbing her back to keep her warm. When my fingers start to go numb with cold, she finally stops trembling. I tilt my head back and grab her face to look her in the eye.
“We have to go, Rory.”
She nods in agreement, though I can sense her reluctance. And I can’t figure out if it’s because she doesn’t want to leave Hallie or Liam or me.
Once we’re in the car, I turn the heater on full tilt to blast the chill out of us. I round the bend in the heart-shaped road and head back toward the entrance on Hoyt Street. As soon as the cemetery gates are in sight, my heart drops. The chest-high gates are closed and chained.
“How are we gonna get out?” Rory asks, unable to hide the hint of panic in her voice.
“Wait here,” I say. “There has to be someone left at the funeral home. I’ll just hop that fence and walk over there. They’ll let us out.”
She breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. I thought we were trapped.”
“I’m gonna lock the doors. Don’t open the windows or doors for anyone.”
“Okay.”
The moment I walk away from the car and hop over the gate, the City View Funeral Home comes into view and I get a bad feeling. The windows are dark and there are no cars in the two parking spaces out front. I cross the street and forge ahead, hopeful that someone who can help us is in there. But after ten minutes of knocking and worrying about leaving Rory alone, I finally decide to give up.
As I cross the street toward the cemetery, the rain begins to come down harder. I race across the small driveway and my heart races when I see Rory standing just inside the gate.
I climb the fence quickly and wrap my arm around her shoulders to guide her back to the car. “What are you doing out here? I told you to stay in the car.”
“I was worried about you,” she says, her teeth chattering as I open the passenger door for her. “Is someone going to let us out?”
“No one was there.”
Her eyes widen. “We’re stuck in here?”
I shake my head as I try to come up with an answer better than the truth, then I remember I promised to never lie to Rory again. “There may be a groundskeeper who’ll come by tonight and let us out. But if not, then yes. We’re stuck here for the night.”
Her mouth drops open in utter horror. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”
“Bullshit. I could have carried you to the car and forced you to leave. It’s not your fault. And, hey, look on the bright side,” I reply, raising my voice to be heard over the sound of the rain battering the top of my car, and Rory looks at me as if I’m insane to even suggest there’s a bright side. “Spending the night in a cemetery will probably be the ultimate test of our friendship.”
She rolls her eyes as she climbs into the passenger seat. “You call that a bright side? I call that a nightmare.”
I decide to pull my car back into the curve of the heart-shaped road, to hide us from view of the cars driving past the cemetery. After a couple of hours of basking in the warmth of the heater and fighting over what music to listen to, our clothes are finally beginning to dry. And a break in the storm arrives.
“We have to hurry up,” I say, stepping out of the car.
“Hurry up, why?” she asks, her eyes wide with confusion. “What are you doing?”
I flatten the backseat of the SUV and open the moonroof. “Get back here.”
I pull off my slightly damp jacket and roll it up to use as a pillow. Then I lie back and stretch my arm out so Rory can lay her head down. The sky is dark, with just a few twinkles of starlight breaking through the patchy cloud cover.
She lets out a soft chuckle. “This isn’t how I imagined this day ending.”
“What did you imagine?”
“I guess I thought we’d both leave feeling sad and maybe even angry.”
I let out a soft sigh. “Guess we’re growing up, huh?”
She gasps as she points her finger through the moonroof. “Oh, my God! Did you see that? It was a shooting star.”
“Now you’re seeing things?”
She smacks my chest. “I swear I just saw a shooting star.”
I laugh as I grab her hand so she can’t abuse me anymore. “Okay, okay. I believe you. I guess you’d better make a wish.”
“You don’t believe me. You’re just humoring me.”
“You’d better make a wish before you lose your chance.”
I try not to laugh as she closes her eyes. She’s silent for a moment, then her mouth curves into a gorgeous smile as her eyelids flutter open.
“Done.”
“What did you wish for? A groundskeeper?”
She gazes into my eyes, still smiling. “An answer.”
A drop of water lands on my cheek and I quickly reach up to hit the button to close the moonroof before the rain gets in. Without the moonlight, the back of the car gets considerably darker. When I look down at Rory, whose head is still lying on my arm, her eyes are locked on mine.
I reach up and brush my thumb over her soft cheekbone. “What kind of answer?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t say. At least, not now.”
“Okay,” I whisper, my gaze locked on her mouth as I trace my thumb over the ledge of her bottom lip. “I’ll let it slide, for now.”
Her breathing quickens as I slowly lean in closer. “Houston?” she breathes, her voice thin as a wisp.
“Yes?” I say, my reply brushing over her lips.
“Stop.”
And with that one simple word, the spell is broken.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” I say, lying back to stare at the boring ceiling of the car. “I guess I got a little carried away.”
She chuckles. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re certainly not at fault. I was about to kiss you when
I remembered our brilliant conversation from the hotel.”
I reach down to discreetly adjust my crotch. “Brilliant is one word for it. Crazy would be another one.”
“Nah, I’d still go with brilliant. You were right.” She turns on her side so she’s facing me. “There’s a lot of stuff we need to sort out, a lot of questions we need answered before we can go down that road again.”
“I know the answer to one very important question,” I reply, turning on my side to face her. “The answer is yes. Yes, I want to play Strip Truth or Dare.”
“Yes, because getting naked with me is definitely the way to play it safe.”
“Who said we have to play it safe?” I smile as she shakes her head. “I’m serious, Rory. I can’t leave the heater on in the car all night or I’ll run out of gas. I’m going to have to turn it off soon. And once the temperature drops into the twenties outside, it’s not going to be much warmer in here.”
“What does that have to do with getting naked?”
I shake my head. “I’m disappointed in you, Rory. You’re the one who laid next to me—naked—while reading me that book about the girl and boy who had to sleep naked in a sleeping bag to stay warm.”
“Ah, shit!”
I laugh at her outburst. “Don’t worry. The cemetery opens at eight. We’ll only have to lie naked together for four or five hours, tops.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Oh, you’re loving this, aren’t you?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure I will be in about three or four hours when it’s time to strip.”
She lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. I guess we may as well have some fun while we’re at it. Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“Of course,” she mutters. “I dare you to… lick my eyeball.”
“You’re sick.” I lean in close and she begins to giggle as I hold her eyelids open. “Stop laughing. One wrong move and… This tongue is strong enough to poke an eye out.”
Her body shakes with the effort of holding in her laughter, and she blinks violently the moment I touch the tip of my tongue to her eyeball.