He died on the operating table.
“Kennedy.” The soft word broke her free of her recollections. She opened her eyes. “We should probably get to the gravesite,” Andrew continued from the passenger seat of her car.
Through the windshield, she saw Maria and her family and friends gathering at the spot Hugo would be laid to rest.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Ava put her hand on Kennedy’s shoulder from the back seat. “We’ve got you.”
They did. They’d sat on either side of her during the service, helping to keep her up when all she wanted to do was slide to the floor and cry under the pew.
Slowly, she exited the car. She hated the sea of dark clothing and heads bent down in sadness. How dare the sun shine today. How dare the trees sway in a gentle breeze, carrying the scent of flowers and perfume.
Her first time to a cemetery sucked. Not that any visit would feel any better.
Andrew came around the hood and took her by the arm. Ava clutched the other, and together they walked closer to the gathering of mourners. They found a spot to stand under the white tent.
She weathered the next thirty minutes by sheer force of will. When it came time to pick up a shovel and help cover Hugo’s casket with dirt, she wanted to jump down, open the much-too-small box, and do chest compressions until he came back. Until his heart picked up where it left off.
He was too young to die. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve this fate. Neither did Maria.
As everyone dispersed, Kennedy did her best not to cry as she hugged Maria in condolence. Her best didn’t come close. The two of them cried in shared pain, nostalgia, and failed wishes.
With each step back to the car, more tears fell, her throat felt raw, and misery stretched down her arms and legs, tight and uncomfortable. Lightheaded, yet heavy in her heart, she held on to Andrew’s arm, grateful for the support. It had killed her to walk into the hospital to see Hugo’s lifeless body. And it killed her to walk away from him today.
Somehow she managed to pull herself together when everyone gathered again at Maria’s house. She even pulled off a magic trick in Hugo’s honor. When she, Ava, and Andrew returned to the apartment, the three of them got good and drunk. Not a recommended sleep aid, but she slept through the night.
Sunday morning, rather than do her usual thing of padding into the kitchen to make coffee, she dozed off and on until Ava knocked on her bedroom door.
“It’s almost noon,” her sister said, clearly having just risen from sleep herself. She crawled under the covers beside Kennedy. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m not hungover, if that’s what you mean.”
Ava blinked in acknowledgment. Kennedy wasn’t okay, but at least she didn’t have a tequila headache.
“Want to stay in bed all day and watch movies?” Ava asked.
“Yes please.” She didn’t want to move or think too hard or face anything outside her bedroom door. That’s what Monday was for.
“I’ll go see what we’ve got in the kitchen.” Ava slid out of bed. “And check if Andrew is still here.” He’d crashed on the couch last night, per his usual if they drank or he was too tired to drive to his place.
Kennedy used the bathroom, washed her hands and face, brushed her teeth. Crawling back into bed, she lifted her phone off the nightstand. For the past week, her initial hope when looking at her cell was to see a text from Maverick. She didn’t care what it said, only that it meant he’d been thinking about her. She hadn’t texted him, though, not even a short response to his letter, so she couldn’t really blame him for being silent, too.
And now he was an ocean away. In another time zone. Wrapped up in his promise to Nicole. She sighed.
There really wasn’t a better man than Maverick Owens.
“Look out!” Andrew said, jumping onto the bed.
She put the phone back on the nightstand and braced for impact. “What are you wearing?”
“The question is what am I not wearing?” He waggled his eyebrows. “I forgot I left these here a while ago for morning-afters.” The pajamas had Andrew’s face all over them, sticking his tongue out. They were silly and fun like her best friend. And she knew what he didn’t have on underneath, since he liked to go commando. TMI, she’d told him when he’d announced that years ago.
“They’re…”
“Awesome. I know.” He snuggled next to her, side by side. “So?” When she didn’t answer right away, he said, “You okay today?”
“Not really.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Sadness takes a while to go away. Sometimes a really long while. Remember how long it took me to come out of my funk after Brendan died?”
Brendan had been one of his best friends growing up. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time, but yes, I remember.” She gave him a quick hug. “It never goes away completely, does it?”
“No.”
“I feel like there’s a hole in my chest.” She put her hand over her sternum.
“It will close eventually.”
“‘My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,’” Ava sang as she danced into the room clutching three tall glasses to her chest.
“‘And they’re like, it’s better than yours,’” Andrew sang back.
“Milkshakes?” Kennedy asked, not sure that was the best thing to fill her stomach after one too many shots last night.
“That’s not the line!” Ava and Andrew said at the same time.
“‘Damn right, it’s better than yours,’” she said, toneless.
Her sister and best friend frowned. What? She was not in a singing mood. She did appreciate them trying to lift her spirits, though.
“Ice cream, milk, and chocolate syrup was about all we had,” Ava said, handing out the glasses. “And spinach. I dropped a couple leaves in so we can call it healthy.”
“I’ll order Chinese,” Andrew said.
“Bless you.” Ava smiled at him before climbing under the covers. Somehow the three of them managed to fit.
They decided on a Julia Roberts marathon. Pretty Woman, Notting Hill, and I Love Trouble. Ava rubbed her back. Andrew recited popular lines he’d memorized from each film. They flopped onto their stomachs, feet in the air. For a little while, Kennedy forgot about the sorrow chewing up her insides as she managed to lose herself in the stories on the screen. Her face even broke into a smile a time or two. But it didn’t last long.