by Amanda Heath
I pull my hand from Max’s and head for the third row, where Pops is seated. I walk down the pew and sit beside him. It doesn’t matter where I sit at, as long as I can see my sister’s coffin, and I can from here. She’s got this pretty pale pink one with ivory silk on the inside. I want to go up and see her but I don’t know if I can take it.
“How does she look?” I ask Pops with tears in my eyes, choking my voice just a little.
He clears his throat and grabs my hand. “Beautiful. Almost can’t tell she’s gone.” I squeeze his hand and turn my head to watch Blake run down the aisle towards my mother. She scoops him up and sits down in the first pew, not even looking over at me. “There ain’t something right in that woman.”
I sigh, wishing that just once my family would be normal and overlook the stupid shit and pretend it’s not there. No, I got the family that likes to point out my mother is heartless and hates me. I can live with it, why can’t anyone else?
“She’s your daughter,” I tell him, hating the way this has divided them. In all honesty, I can’t believe he isn’t on her side in the way she treats me. I know I would be if I wasn’t me.
“Ain’t no daughter of mine treating her own child like this.” He squeezes my hand and then lets go.
I watch Max approach the coffin, his shoulders tense and vibrating. Tate stands just behind him and when Max sees Sarah, his knees give out. I tense myself, ready to go up there but I settle back down in my seat. He doesn’t need me, not while Tate is up there with him.
Max’s shoulders move up and down while he sobs into Tate’s chest. The same chest I’ve used for the same thing, many times. Tate wraps his arms around Max and speaks softly into his ear and I have a moment of light fill my heart. I have no idea what’s going on with them, but I’m glad they put it aside for today. They really need each other right now.
Once they get settled in the first pew I get up. Pops offers to go with me, but I tell him to sit back down. The church is old with dark wood beams and rafters. There are white lilies everywhere, along with pink roses. Her favorite colors. They were even the colors of her wedding.
Everyone hushes as I approach. I don’t know if they are waiting on my reaction or if they think I’m going to run screaming in the other direction. I don’t do anything once I get a look at her.
I get jolts of pain in my chest seeing her like this. It’s her…but it’s not. The most shocking thing to see is the little pink blanket bundled in her arms. It was probably Mom’s idea to bury them together. I stayed out of the preparations for today. I knew Max would do her justice and he did. I just took the outfit because he said I would know best.
I reach into the coffin and run my hand over the blanket. I don’t want to see the baby, that would kill me; I just want to touch her once. “Rest in peace sweet angel,” I whisper, choking back tears. I then run a hand over Sarah’s face, hating how cold she is. I stand there touching her, tears running down my face, hoping with everything I can that she’ll just open her eyes. That she’ll just wake up and be here to help me navigate the rest of my life.
She was supposed to be.
I bend over and kiss her cheek one more time even though she can’t feel it. “I love you, beautiful, God do I love you. I’m gonna miss you forever.”
Then I suck it up and turn around, heading back to Pops. Tate reaches out and grabs my hand. Then he pulls until I’m sitting in his lap. I don’t fight him; I just shove my face in his neck and hold on.
It’s funny how that all works. I hate him, boy do I hate him, but I also love him. I love his strength and his compassion. I need him right now, more than I’ve ever needed him before.
The funeral moves to the cemetery, the same place that houses my Gran’s grave. I feel a bite of pain, a different pain, because I haven’t been to her grave in months. I should have gone to talk to her.
Max, Tate and I stand in a line side by side. We pass Blake between us as the preacher talks about Sarah and how much we all loved her and how she loved all of us. Her students stand in the back and I’m proud of Sarah in that moment. They had to close the high school for the day because all the kids wanted to come. They are all dressed nicely and acting far above their age. She’s in all of them and how they handle themselves. She had just as much impact on them that she did me.
I’m the last one to throw dirt on the coffin. I shake while I do it. This is it; this is the end of my life with her. This is the end of everything I’ve ever known. Sadness rests on my shoulders; weighing me down so hard I can barely stand up. It feels like I could sleep for weeks, just to fight this sadness off.
God why couldn’t it have been me?
No one wants me anyway, except her. And she’s gone.
Max
You’re never prepared for it. The loss of someone you love, even if you knew they were going to pass on. Seeing Sarah in that coffin was too much. I feel like my skin is stretched too tight. I have this need to run and run as far as I can from here. It wouldn’t do me any good. Blake doesn’t deserve that. Farah doesn’t deserve that.
My wife was wearing my favorite outfit of hers. I couldn’t even tell you really why it was my favorite. She looked amazing in pink. It complemented her skin tone and it made her cheeks look flushed, like she’d just gotten some. That’s probably the reason right there.
Sarah was holding my little girl. My little woman. I feel this sense of guilt and regret because she was my daughter and I was supposed to protect her. I couldn’t do that though; I couldn’t save her at all. I’ve never felt so helpless in my whole life. Why did this happen to my wife and child? Why couldn’t it have happened to me? Why was I left alone with my little man? I shake my head because I shouldn’t ask questions I’ll never have the answers to.
I roll over onto my back and look over at the clock. Two A.M. I went to bed at ten. Tears of devastation and frustration start falling out of my eyes. I’m so used to Sarah being here. I’m so used to her lying half on top of me with her hair in my face. She was a cuddler, couldn’t stop touching me while she slept. I’d grown fond of it over the years, even though she made me sweat all the time with our mixing body heats. I especially miss the little kicks I used to get in my ribs from the baby girl she was growing.
My bedroom door opens and I sit up fast with a glare, thinking it’s Tate. When a head of blonde and black hair enters my vision the glare fades. It turns into a blank look. She walks into the room and climbs onto the other side of the bed. She stretches out onto her side and I think about how gorgeous she is. Sarah was incredibly beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but she lacked something eternal that Farah has. It’s like she glows and throws off this amazing feeling every time she enters my line of sight.
“What are you doing?” I ask softly, holding my tears back. The last thing I want to do right now is cry in front of anyone. My tears are a private thing, something I can only share with myself.
“I know how you feel,” she whispers, tucking her hand under her head as she faces me.
I nod. “I know you do. What’s that have to do with you being in here?”
“I didn’t want to be alone.”
Oh. I let out a sigh and lay back down on my back. We stay quiet for a long time. Her breathing becomes very even so I assume she’s gone to sleep. I turn my head to look at her and find two bright blue eyes looking at me.
“It’s funny really,” she says. “I hate you most of the time, yet I want to comfort you and make sure you’re going to make it out of this alive.”
“You only think you hate me,” I tell her, turning over onto my side to face her.
She shakes her head, her blonde and black locks twisting against the pillow. I find it really weird that I notice how good she smells. Like fresh air and flower-filled meadows. But then again, she’s always smelled like that to me.
“What have I ever done to make you hate me?” I ask gently. If she really thinks about it for a minute, she’ll realize I’m not the person she’s made me out to be
in her head.
I didn’t treat her with all the respect she deserved but I also didn’t do something unforgivable either. “Constantly telling you that you’re short and lumpy with a smile on my face isn’t all that bad. I just like to pick on you.”
I know it’s not the best thing to say but it’s not like I really mean the lumpy part, but she is short. Farah’s a smart girl, if she thought I was really making fun of her, then she’s not the girl I thought she was.
I watch as her eyes close and a few moments later her mouth shifts down into a frown. “That’s why I hate you. You’re always right.”
I have this tingling in my throat that means I want to laugh but I don’t. Regardless of the conversation I don’t have it in me to laugh. I want to laugh though. I want to get back to the cocky bastard I was before Sarah died. I wonder if he died with her.
“I’m not always right. I’m just cocky and I know what I’m talking about.”
Her lips twitch but I know she doesn’t have it in her either to drum up a laugh. Our voices are quiet and there’s no real emotion behind them. It’s strange, really, because we’ve never just talked liked this before.
Her eyes meet mine from across the bed. “You think it’ll get any easier?”
I think about it for a minute before I answer her. “I don’t think so. I think both of us will go through the rest of our lives missing her. We’ll live our lives but something will always be missing.” No matter how I feel about the girl in front of me, I truly mean the statement I just made. Sarah was my reason for breathing and I know in my heart I’ll never get over losing her.
“One day, Max. One day we’ll wake up and she won’t be the first thing we think about. One day it’ll be hours before we think about losing her and how much it hurt.” I don’t know if she says this to make me feel better or herself.
“I know that. But that seems so far away right now.”
She nods and I watch, fascinated, as a lock of her hair falls on to her face. I reach over slowly and move it away. I feel the goose bumps spring up on her skin and for once, since the day Sarah died, I feel like smiling. I quickly snatch my hand away and pretend that didn’t just happen.
Her eyes are wide and for once, Farah doesn’t look at me like I’m the scum on the bottom of her shoe.
I turn to my back and start to stare at the ceiling. I’ve never really explored my feelings for Farah because I didn’t want to acknowledge them. I knew they were there because you can’t completely ignore love. It’s constantly there, whispering in your ear all the things you don’t want to hear. Love’s a bitch and I hate it. The past week I’ve been silently wishing it had never found me. Then I wouldn’t feel like complete and utter shit because I’m thinking about Farah in a way I should only be thinking about my wife.
“Did you try to talk her into getting rid of the baby?” Farah’s voice comes out of the darkness and I flinch at the sound of her voice and the words that she’s speaking.
I start to glare at the ceiling, refusing to look at Farah even though I feel her eyes boring a hole into the side of my face. “Yes. I tried to talk her into an abortion. Thank you for making me feel like more shit. I really needed that.”
“She would never have done it. No matter what you said Max. No matter what I said.” I feel her hand touch my arm and I jerk it away, so done with this line of thinking.
“Does it even matter? They’re gone and we’re here having this stupid conversation.”
Farah’s hand moves up and down my forearm and it’s my turn to break out into bumpy flesh. “I don’t want you to blame yourself is all. You didn’t mean to get her pregnant. Sarah didn’t mean to get pregnant. And she would never have gotten rid of that baby.”
I close my eyes as the tears start to fall. It makes me feel like a kid again; crying over scraped knees and banged up elbows. Tate always laughing at me and calling me a baby. God, I’m more screwed up than I thought I was. “I loved her, Farah. I’ll love her for the rest of my life but I can’t forgive her. I can’t forgive her for leaving me, when she had a chance to stay. She had a chance to fix it. So, yeah, I might hate her too.”
“You don’t hate her. You love her even more because she was selfless in this decision. She had a chance to bring that child into the world and she took it. Only that chance never came and here we are without her.” I raise my arm halfway and Farah slips her fingers into mine. My heart beats faster and I squeeze those fingers, holding on for dear life.
I look at her with my teary eyes and I lay our hands down on the bed. “She wasn’t always so selfless, you know. And she wasn’t perfect, no matter how in awe of her you were. I think sometimes you put her up on this pedestal and she had no hope of ever coming down and joining the rest of us.”
“You’re right. It was really hard to take her off of it. I did though, when she betrayed me that one time. But she’d spent the rest of her life trying to protect me, whether it did any good or not. She was my sister and she wasn’t perfect. That’s what I loved the most about her.” Farah sounds close to tears herself so I squeeze her hand.
“I know it’s not rational but I sometimes think she did it on purpose. I feel like she left Blake on purpose, not to mention you and me. I know it’s not right. I can’t help it though.”
Farah makes a noise but I can’t identify it. “I had the same thoughts. Only because she could have prevented it. But then you have to look at the bigger picture. She was already a mother and she knew what it was like to carry that child. She knew what it was like to already love the person she was growing. It was murder to her and she couldn’t murder her own kid.” She lets my hand up and I watch as she wipes away some of her tears. “She thought she had a chance to be here today. She thought she had a chance to make it through and/or the baby to make it through and she took it. No matter if it was the wrong decision or the right decision. It was her body.” She reaches over and touches my cheek. “You wouldn’t have been able to get rid of that kid either. I know you tried to talk her into it. I know you think you wanted it but if she’d had the procedure, you would have busted in there at the last minute and stopped it.”
Her thumb rubs against my cheek and it’s hard to keep myself still and not nuzzle into her hand. When my life seemed like it was all going to fall apart, it turns out I was wrong. I could have stopped what happened, but she’s right, I wouldn’t have been able to. It’s not about whose life was more important, it was about what Sarah wanted. It might have backfired, but then again it could have gone a lot better.
She could still be here and I wouldn’t be depressed out of my mind. Farah would be down the hall asleep in her own room, instead of being in here and comforting me.
I turn away from her hand and roll onto my stomach. Then I fall asleep while slapping myself in the head for even letting myself think about Farah right now.
Five
Farah
Tate and I didn’t start as friends. It was like one day I knew him from the Roadhouse but then the next he was some guy I had a one-night stand with.
It was a few days after I got my ass handed to me by Sarah’s ex-boyfriend. I got off early that night and I decided to stay over and get drunk at the bar.
When someone sat down next to me, I turned towards them to give them a smile and almost choked on my drink. Tate sat down in the seat and unbuttoned his jacket, shrugging out of it. “Hello, Farah,” he murmured, looking down at me.
I think my mouth opened and closed like a fish for a few seconds. “Um, Tatum.” I spoke but I’m sure the sound was strangled. I like to run from my problems, it’s just something in my genetics and he’s a problem.
He gave me a tight smile and ordered his beer. “You aren’t working tonight?”
I shook my head and adjusted my ass in my seat. “I got off about two hours ago.” I took my eyes away from his and looked down at my frozen drink. I knew the man was gorgeous but somehow with the alcohol in my system, he looked even better.
He was
rocking a pair of black slacks that were tight enough to show off his thighs, a black pea coat with a hood with a black button down shirt underneath. His hair was styled perfectly back off his face, not that it was all that long.
There I was sitting next to him in my ripped jeans, Slipknot t-shirt and red chucks with pink and black polka dot shoelaces. We made a pair, sitting at that bar together.
“No sidekick tonight?” I asked, not looking at him.
I felt him move next to me and I looked over at him. It was like that’s what he was waiting on; when my eyes met his. The green orbs were staring directly into mine. “He’s out on a date.”
I nodded my head. “Good for him.” I remember it being one of the most awkward conversations I’d ever had. Well, the beginning of it was. I didn’t think I had anything to even talk to him about. But then we found common ground.
Our troublesome siblings.
“Did your sister stay away from that guy?” he asked, while reaching with his hand to my cast.
I nodded again. “She has this saying, ‘You can hurt me all you want, but don’t mess with my sister or it’s over’. She and I both pretty much live by those words.”
When he gave me a small smile I nearly fell off the barstool. He didn’t say anything though and I was seriously nervous around him. I guess he just seemed so high class and out of my league and I had no fucking idea why he was talking to me. “She’s spending her night at home thank the lord. Before she got with this guy, she was always going out on dates. Like, every night. It drove me crazy.”
This time he smirked. “Max is like that. Though I’m sure his dates end differently than your sister’s.”
“I don’t know. She’s kind of a ho.” And yes, I called my sister a ho. Before Sarah met Max, she was always sleeping around. There’s nothing wrong with it if that’s what you want to do. I’m not going to call you a ho, neither to your face nor behind your back. Sarah was my sister; I meant the insult with all the love in the world. “I mean, if you called her that, I’d beat the shit out of you. But yeah…she had issues.”