by C. J. Lau
Chapter 14
My parents drop us off and excuse themselves. Maggie and I walking to where the gravestone lay.
Trisha Stewart. 1975 – 2002. Loved by many. Missed by all.
My tears start before I even finish reading.
“This is just what Trisha would want,” Maggie says, doing her best to cheer me up.
I don’t answer, but she’s right. The small cemetery is nestled among the English countryside. Our former University housemate always preferred the beauty of nature and the simplicity of the country. Now she would hear leaves rustling and birds singing their songs forever.
I have no words for the guilt washing over me. We’d gone down together, she died and I survived. This I know. I read the stone again.
Loved by many. Missed by all.
Maggie seems to sense my guilt, because she’s in my ear, gently whispering, “It’s not your fault.”
The flowers I clutch hold no magical power over death, no authority to stop the cuts my heart feels, consuming me. What would I gladly give if it means I bring her back? What would do it?
Maggie’s still trying. “It’s not your fault, Cat.”
I try my hardest to believe. But it barely dents the sadness.
I don’t need fancy cognitive tests to see why my brain can’t find words now.
But I speak anyway. Know my friends won’t judge. “It’s time to say goodbye….” My mouth moves, the sounds heavy with sorrow. “I’ll come back one day. I promise. Though when….”
My brain fills with nothing as the words dry up again. I cry into these useless flowers. Feel Maggie’s comforting arm around me.
But I’m done.
The words come, rushed, “We should never have gotten onto that flight, Trisha! If only we—then maybe—Maybe you’d still be here, saying everything’s going to be—” and then stop.
I collapse, my bandaged knee complaining all the way to her grave. The flowers soak up tears. Finally, I lay them on the stone.
“Why didn’t you take me with you, Trisha? We’d never be apart again…”
Maggie drops to her knees, let’s me pull her close. We cry as the leaves rustle and the birds sing.
“Goodbye, Trisha.”
We walk back to the car, not speaking, arms around each other. And Dad drives us away from Trisha’s resting place.
In the car I ask, “Are Trisha’s parents mad at me?” Saying goodbye giving the courage to finally ask.
I met her parents only briefly, but that hadn’t stopped Dad driving down to see them yesterday.
“Not at all,” Ian says. “They’ve told me how lucky we are to have a second chance. Many times. Of course they’re hurting, with their loss.” My tears threaten to start again. “But they’re happy you made it. That you’re finally going home.”
“I realise how I miss her… Standing there… The first time I wish I’d never woke up. Wish I could have gone—she should’ve survived instead.”
Now I’ve done it. Stunned them all into silence. Just great Cat.
“Everything happens for a reason,” Mum struggles. “Even if it hurts more than we imagine it could. We know how lucky we are.” Mum’s words help the guilt subside. “To us you are more than a miracle. One day, Cat, you’ll know too.”
I concentrate on my reflection in the window. Ugly. A set of red teary eyes on a badly scarred face.
I touch the scar, a deep indentation that will never heal. “This will never let me forget.”
Another period of unwieldy silence. My eyes now on Maggie, calmly staring out her window, deep in her own thoughts.
“You look worried, Maggie.”
“I’m just stressed about my girls,” she laughs, wiping a stray tear away. “So many things in all directions.” It’s such a sad laugh, filled with things I want to get to the bottom of. What did Sam’s Captain, for now mean?
“Tell me about your girls,” I ask. Looking to hockey for escape once more.
“They’re playing in Wagga Wagga today. Francis said he’d fax me how it went.” A frown crosses her face. “I know I made the right choice coming up, but I’m still worried.” She stops, realising her words. “You need me. And so did Trish. Even though not knowing what’s happening at home is killing me.” Trying to fix it all because she sees my face, knows my thoughts. “I left an inexperienced team, to take on one of the Region’s strongest.” A deep sigh, complete with shake of her head showing the depth of her worry. “Hopefully his fax is there when we get home.”
I reach out, take her hand. “Thank you. You’re such a beautiful friend. I can never repay you for dropping everything to be with me.”
We ride hand in hand back home. I’ve lost one friend, but Maggie’s still here.
Two pages lay in the fax machine when we arrive. I take a look at the cover sheet before calling, “Maggie!”
At the doorway of the study, I hold out the pages. Her eyes light up seeing them.
“For you.”