Dylan appears uncomfortable, apprehensively loosening his tie. ‘I do, but are you sure you want to hear it?’

It takes me a beat to answer, but in the end it feels like I should know. ‘Yeah, I think I need to, for closure.’

He sighs then rakes his hand through his hair, staring out at the parking lot. ‘I don’t know all the details, but it was a fight.’

Shock ripples through me and slams against my chest. ‘What?’

Dylan sighs, looking back at me. ‘He finally got into a fight with someone who fought back.’ He shakes his head and then stares out at the large oak trees around the yard in front of the church. ‘It’s kind of tragic when you think about it. So much useless and unnecessary rage for all those years finally led him to the end. It was such a waste, to live life like that.’

‘I know it was,’ I say quietly. ‘Being happy is so much better, isn’t it?’

Nodding, Dylan looks at me and the edginess in his eyes has vanished and all that remains is pity. Not for me, but for our dad. ‘It really, really is. Too bad he could never figure that out.’

Silence wraps around us, and even though we don’t agree that it’s time to go in, we both move for the door at the same time and enter the church. It’s about as empty as the parking lot, with a few people sitting on the benches, faces I don’t recognize except for one person who I knew would be there, and who I was dreading seeing.

My mother.

She’s sitting at the front, dressed in black, with a hat on her head and a veil over her face. She turns her head when we enter, the hinges of the church door announcing our presence. We exchange this look that I don’t know what it means, nor do I care to find out. Because when she starts to get up, I rip my gaze away from her and sit down beside Callie because that’s where I belong. I’m surprised that my mother takes the hint and sits back down, staring ahead at the coffin upfront. It looks so lonely up there with no flowers around it, no large photo to represent the man that he was.

Callie holds my hand the entire time. We don’t say much, but there’s not much to say. Besides, she’s here with me and that’s all that really matters – that she loves me enough to be here for me.

As the funeral goes on, the emptier the church feels with the lack of crying. There’s no heart-warming eulogy dedicated to him. No one has anything to say.

There is only silence.

Emptiness.

Which is really what his life was, wasn’t it?

It’s in that moment, I feel sort of sorry for my dad. What a waste, to live life with so much anger that there’s no room for love. I’m grateful I’m not like him. Grateful I have the chance to move on from all the pain and hate he inflicted in my life. Grateful I was capable of love. Grateful for Callie, my brother, Liz, Luke, Violet, Seth, Greyson, and even my coach. Because in the end, I realized I’m not my father.

I’m simply me.

And that’s enough.

I wish I could have said that toward the end of his funeral when we took him to the cemetery to put him in his final resting place. To find it in my heart to say a few words that meant something.

But I couldn’t.

All I could say was goodbye.

And let the past go.

Forever.

Chapter 26

#168 Try Not to Get Too Embarrassed in the Most Embarrassing Situation.

Callie

Ever since the funeral, Kayden seems to be doing a lot better. I don’t ask him why because really it doesn’t matter. All that does matter is the darkness that has always haunted him seems to have lifted. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not happy all the time, but no one is really.

It’s Christmas day, which we’re spending at my parents’ house. We’ve been there for a few days now and plan to stay through New Year’s. While I had suggested we go to Virginia, not only because I know that his brother wanted him to come out there, but because I knew my mother was going to act like a weirdo, he asked if we could go to my home. Plus, there was the fact that I was worried I’d run into Caleb again, but my mother assured me he was behind bars, awaiting his trial. And Kayden said it was fair that we came here since I’d already spent time with his brother and sister. I didn’t feel too good about it, though, since the time I spent with his brother and sister-in-law was at the funeral, but he promised me he really wanted to go visit my family.

Poor guy didn’t know what he was in store for.

‘I love Christmas,’ my mother singsongs as she waltzes around, picking up pieces of wrapping paper and putting them in a large garbage bag. She has on a green sweater, tan pants, and her socks have Christmas trees on them, and she’s dancing to Christmas music playing from the antique record player in the corner of the room. ‘It’s the best time of the year.’

‘You say that about Halloween and Thanksgiving, too,’ I say, glancing at Kayden who has a fist balled in front of his mouth to hide his chuckling at my mother’s madness. It’s so embarrassing, but I’m trying my hardest not to get embarrassed because I need to get used to it – Kayden learning all my family’s little quirks.

‘And Valentine’s Day and the Fourth of July,’ my dad says as he stacks the presents we just opened in a corner. He has on a red and green sweatshirt my mother made him wear all day to celebrate the festivities. ‘Not to mention New Year’s.’

‘Oh, I have so many plans for New Year’s.’ My mother sets the bag down and walks over to me, beaming. ‘I was thinking you and I could go shopping, get our hair done, then we could all go out to dinner.’ She glances at Kayden before looking at me. ‘All four of us.’

I open my mouth to say … well, something that will get us out of that mess, but my father chimes in, giving me a devious look. ‘Actually, sweetie, I had something really special planned for you and me.’

‘Really?’ My mother claps her hands together and rushes over to him to give him a big hug.

Run, my dad mouths from over my mother’s shoulder with a grin. Run while you can.

He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I snatch ahold of Kayden’s hand and yank him out of the living room.

‘Oh my God,’ I hiss, guiding Kayden by the sleeve of his shirt across the kitchen and toward the back door away from my mother. Once we’re out of the house, I pick up the pace, hurrying across the driveway to the garage, worried my mother’s going to follow us. ‘I seriously think she’s like one step away from locking us in the house so she can keep us forever.’




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