by Monica Cole
After the minister finishes the eulogy, he asks me to come up and say a few words like we’d previously arranged. Whitney squeezes my hand and my mom kisses my cheek before I head to the podium in front of the casket. I haven’t prepared anything special or written an eloquent speech. There’s enough in my heart I didn’t feel the need to. As I take my place at the front of the surprisingly large crowd, I’m amazed at how many people showed up. The entire football team from University of Tennessee is here. His friends, from both high school and college. There are way more people here than I originally thought would come, but it’s nice to know how loved Parker was and how many lives he touched. Normally I’d be nervous standing in front of all these people, completely unprepared, hoping that my words do my brother justice. But not today. Today is about Parker and even though he’s not here physically, I know he’s here in every other sense, giving me the strength to do this.
My eyes scan the crowd once more for one face in particular. Canyon promised he’d be here but I’ve yet to see him. It’s disappointing, but I can’t necessarily hold it against him considering he just had a heart transplant. I know he’d be here if he could, but just like Parker, I know he’s here in a different sense. Bracing my hands on the podium, I take a calming breath and begin my speech. I talk about the good. Share precious memories and funny stories. And I slowly start to realize that Parker was right. The good always outweighs the bad.
I blabber on longer than I thought possible but everyone seems entertained and our moods have lifted. When I finally return to where mom and Whitney are standing, their tears have turned into smiles. The ceremony ends. Some of the guests leave but most gather around as they lower the casket into the ground. My mom takes my hand and I lay my head on her shoulder as she cries silently into my hair. And just like that, it’s over. The hardest day of my life is coming to an end and just like Parker requested, I plan on burying it with him. To do my best to move on, even if it takes time.
Mom and I stand around for another thirty minutes, accepting hugs and words of comfort. When most of them have gone, Whitney approaches me and wraps her arms around my waist.
“Hey, my mom is waiting for me in the car. I probably need to get going.”
“It’s okay. Thanks for staying as long as you did.”
“Of course.” She smiles and hugs me one more time before taking a step back. “Also, there’s someone here who wants to see you.” She nods her head to the side, and I follow the direction to see Canyon sitting not far away under the shade of a tree.
Whitney says goodbye, shoving me gently in Canyon’s direction. I take my time walking over, my eyes glued to the wheelchair he’s in. It’s ironic in a weird way, him being at the burial in a wheelchair, right after having Parker’s heart placed in his chest. The thought forms a rock sized lump in my throat that I painfully swallow as I stop a few feet away. It’s been five short days, but it feels like weeks since I’ve seen Canyon. For being in recovery, he looks good, although it’s obvious the toll the surgery’s had on him. The dark circles under his brown eyes show a lack of sleep and his skin looks paler than normal. Despite all that, he still manages to make my heart twirl around my chest. He’s dressed in a simple white button down and dark jeans, a gray beanie barely hiding the chaotic mess of brown hair underneath.
“Have you been here the whole time?” I ask, finally dislodging the tightness in my throat enough to speak.
“I showed up a few minutes after you started your speech. It’s a bitch having to get around in this wheelchair. I have a whole new respect for what Parker had to put up with.”
A hot breeze blows through, lifting my hair around my face. “I’m glad you came.” I say, taking a tentative step forward. Canyon captures my hand, tugging gently until I’m on his lap then places a kiss on my forehead.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” he says, stroking my hand with his thumb. “You did a great job with your speech. Parker would’ve been proud.”
I glance over at the podium where mom is standing with a few co-workers. “Do you think he heard it? My speech, I mean.”
He nods. “I know he did. I also know he’s probably wishing he could kick your ass for telling that embarrassing story of how we made him dress up as a girl that time he lost his hand at poker.”
A fit of laughter escapes me, Canyon’s chest rumbling with the same sound. Laughter at a funeral is the most absurd thing I can think of, but at the same time it feels right and I can imagine Parker being proud of us for doing it.
“He probably is,” I agree. I look up at the cloudless blue sky. I wonder if he’s up there right now, looking down at us. No longer in a wheelchair but running around on a new pair of legs, playing football with angels. “I’m going to miss him,” I say quietly. I look down at our interlocked fingers when he gives them a squeeze then back to his face. “But I’m glad I didn’t lose both of you. I’m glad something positive came out of his death. I’m glad he was able to save your life. It’s the beauty in all of this ugliness.”
Canyon cups my chin between his fingers and lowers my face until our lips connect. He kisses me until I’m numb or maybe he just kisses the sadness away. Either way it makes me feel like everything’s okay. “I’m glad he saved me, too,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I love you, Elle.”
“I love you, too.”
He kisses me again and I place my hands on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. The heart I know will love me until its final beat, no matter what transpires.
The End
Epilogue
Three months later
I’ve always been fascinated with cemeteries. There’s something peaceful about them. A solitary place and the quiet is all encompassing. I know they’re mostly considered a place of mourning, but I see them differently. Each grave tells a story and behind each story is a person who once walked this earth, full of life and who gave us moments worth remembering. In the few months I’ve been coming here, I’ve visited other graves. Read the names on the headstones and wondered what kind of person they were. If they had a good life or fulfilled their dreams or if they were alone in this world and died a painful death, burdened with regrets.
I think a lot about life and how fragile it really is. How one second we can be grasping on so tightly and the next it’s slipping from our fingers. I think about what Parker and Canyon taught me, and I wonder if these people knew what I know now, or if they spent their entire existence picking at scabs instead of letting their wounds heal. But mostly when I’m here, I think about how thankful I am to have struggled because without a struggle, there’s no strength, and without strength there’s no endurance for life.
The grass is still wet with early morning dew as Canyon and I walk through the cemetery. It’s late October and while the weather is starting to get chilly, we’re dressed lightly in jeans and a t-shirt. Parker’s grave is at the back of the cemetery, but I can always spot it easily by the Green Bay Packers flag I stuck in the ground beside his headstone. Today I’m wearing the Packers jersey Parker got for his birthday and the matching hat he’s had since he was ten. Last night Canyon and I attended the Packers game in Nashville, the one I bought Parker tickets to for his birthday.
I considered selling them at first because I didn’t know what else to do with them. But Canyon convinced me that Parker would’ve wanted us to go and told me we could come by and tell him all about the game. So here we are, at barely eight o’clock in the morning, decked out in Packer's attire, sitting cross legged by his grave. These have become my favorite moments, whether it’s with Canyon or by myself, I always enjoy visiting Parker. Talking to him about life or just sitting here and thinking back on certain memories.
“You’ll be glad to know the Packers won,” I say aloud, my eyes focused where Parker’s name is engraved on the headstone. “The score was 10 to 51, and I even waved my foam finger around a little when they made the winning touchdown.”
Canyon rolls his eyes like Par
ker can actually see it. “She’s lying. The only finger she lifted was to call over the guy selling hotdogs.”
I smack him in the arm and he winks, pulling me over so I’m sitting in his lap. He wraps his arms around my middle and rests his chin on top of my head.
“I miss him,” I whisper, leaning my head against his chest.
He inhales, squeezing me tighter. “Me too.”
We’re both quiet after that. I close my eyes and listen to the breeze, imagining that it’s Parker trying to communicate in some bizarre way. I don’t believe in ghosts but there have been multiple times when I’ve felt like there was a “presence” around me. Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I just miss him too much. Either way, it’s nice to imagine he’s here, our lives still connected.
When we’re through visiting, we head back to the truck. Canyon has to get to work, and I have school to worry about. When Parker passed, I made the decision to stay in Alden. I didn’t want to leave mom alone, even if Canyon was here. But more than that, I didn’t feel like going back to Knoxville to finish school was where I needed to be. Other than Whitney being my roommate, there was nothing there for me but lost opportunities and a cramped dorm room. So at the end of the summer, I moved my stuff back home and enrolled in online classes. Right now, I’m working towards a degree in counseling, something my mom suggested I’d be good at. I was unsure at first since I’m not exactly a people person, but the more I researched it, the more intrigued I became. Canyon supported the idea, so I decided it was worth a shot since I didn’t have a clue what else I was going to do. Along with school, I’m also helping Canyon at the studio and working part time at Wired. Overall, life is good, something I haven’t been able to say for a long time.
“So I’ve been thinking,” Canyon announces as we arrive in town.
“Should I make a public announcement?”
His mouth perks at my sarcasm. “You know what you’d look good with? Duct Tape. All over that sarcastic mouth of yours.”
I smile cheekily. “Maybe. But then you couldn’t kiss me, and we both know what a shame that would be.”
His brown eyes cut in my direction, sweeping over my body until every nerve ending inside me is buzzing and hot, standing alert. “Not when there are plenty of other places I’d enjoy kissing you,” he says, staring at my legs appreciatively.
Oh lord.
I lean over and blast the air conditioning.
Canyon chuckles.
“So…you’ve been thinking,” I say, prompting him back into conversation. We’re pulling into my neighborhood, so he waits until the truck is parked before turning to face me. I unbuckle my seatbelt and imitate his position.
“I want to ask you something but you have to promise not to freak out.”
I frown.
When he puts it that way, I’m not sure I want to know.
“Okay,” I draw out hesitantly.
He rests his arm across the back of the seat and starts playing with the end of my ponytail. “It’s not bad, I promise. It’s just a big, big step and I want you to know you can say no. I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything.”
He scans my face carefully.
Oh god.
He isn’t…?
“Canyon, I swear to god if you’re about to ask me to marry you…” I warn, panic written all over my voice. Although I’m not completely against the idea of marrying Canyon in the future, it still scares the living crap out of me.
When he doesn’t respond immediately, I continue rambling.
“No seriously. Are you proposing? Because there’s no way I’m ready to get married. I’d probably suck at it and the last thing you need is to marry someone who sucks at being a wife.”
“Will you chill out?” he says, grabbing my chin between his fingers. “I’m not asking you to marry me. At least not yet anyways.” He shakes his head. “Damn. I seriously need to own Duct Tape.”
He looks at my mouth then back up. “Are you going to stop talking and let me finish?”
I nod.
He releases my face but reaches down, threading his fingers through mine.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us. Our future. Things have been good between us, and I think we’re ready to take another step forward.”
He swallows.
I swallow.
“Will you move in with me?” he asks, voice soft with trepidation.
He wants me to move in with him?
That’s what all this was about?
I smile.
And then I laugh because this is so not what I was thinking.
Really I don’t know what I was thinking, but it’s kind of endearing that he seemed so nervous to ask me to move in with him.
He’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because you made the idea of me moving in with you sound like some huge deal.”
“It kind of is.”
I bite my lip to stifle my laughter. “Not really. With the amount of time we spend with each other, we might as well be living together. All this means is that I get to keep my crap at your place and leave dirty dishes in the sink and hog your kind sized bed and…”
He shoves a finger against my mouth. “Can you shut up? Because now I’m seriously considering revoking my offer.”
I grin.
He stares at my mouth, tracing it softly with his thumb. “So is that a yes?” he asks, his face moving closer.
“A yes to shutting up or moving in?”
He rests his forehead against mine and releases a small growl. “Considering you’re still talking, I’d say the latter.”
I pretend to consider his offer even though I’ve already made up my mind. At least I think I have. It’s easy to go along with whatever Canyon wants when he’s touching me like this.
“Okay.” I breathe heavily, clutching the edge of the seat. He kisses the side of my neck as he makes a path up to my jaw.
“Okay?” He pulls back, sounding shocked that I’m agreeing so easily.
I nod. “I want to move in. Mom’s rarely at the house. It makes sense that we live together.” I reach up and slide my fingers through his hair, drawing him closer. “Plus, I kind of like the idea of sleeping in the same bed as you every night.” I lightly graze my mouth against his before kissing him. It’s a simple kiss, but even after all this time, it’s still there. Sparks. Fireworks. Electricity. Everything I’ve ever felt for him, intensified and ten times more amazing than it’s been before.
Canyon pulls away, rubbing his lips together like he’s savoring the taste of me. “Is that what you think we’ll be doing? Sleeping?”
“That is what beds are for.”
Canyon groans, reaching for a pen in the console. Then he scribbles something on his hand.
“What are you writing?”
“A reminder.”
“For?”
He blows on his hand then tosses the pen down. “Duct tape. I’m picking some up on my way home so I can use it on you tonight in bed where we won’t be sleeping.”
He says this with a straight face, voice full of determination. He’s probably dead serious but I still laugh.
“We’ll see.” I taunt, wanting to get a rise out of him.
But he stays completely calm, his mouth curling into a devious grin that makes my insides do crazy things. “I’m a changed man, Elle. And when I give my word, I intend to keep it.”
His words make my heart skip a beat.
The way he’s looking at me makes it stop altogether.
And even though I don’t harbor a trace of doubt for him in my heart, I still have to ask.
“Promise?”
He grins, wrapping his pinky around mine.
“Promise.”
Acknowledgments
I can’t believe I’m finally writing the acknowledgments for Transpire when just a few months ago I thought I’d never finish. My first thank you goes to my sister Marissa. Thank you for encouraging me
from the beginning to write this story and being so enthusiastic along the way. And even though it was a huge distraction, thank you for all the snap chats and text messages that kept me laughing instead of going completely insane. You’re the cooliest. Thank you to my other sister Mackenzie for volunteering as tribute and reading my first draft. It sucked and I’m sorry. Really.
Thank you to Katie Opris for doing the photography for the cover. You’re so talented and I loved working with you. Christina, thank you for agreeing to be the cover model and for taking pictures in the ridiculously cold weather. You’re beautiful inside and out and I’m glad you didn’t turn permanently blue because I would’ve felt really bad. A huge thank you to my editors Lori and Ann. I appreciate ya’ll more than I can say!
To Jimmy Eat World for writing the song, “Your House.” Without it, I would’ve never thought of the idea for Transpire. To my grandma for always telling me about Canyon, the cute guy that lives next door, and giving me a kick ass name for a character. To my family and friends who have continuously offered their support. Thank you for giving me the confidence to accomplish my dream.