SEVEN
ESSIE
A handful of people show up to Vaughn’s memorial service. Mostly people he worked with from the bike shop. They say kind words to me, but I don’t hear any of it, much like I don’t hear a single thing the priest is saying. How is it this priest can be saying anything about my brother anyway, when he never even knew him?
The day is spectacularly cold but there isn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun is a bright hard, shining coin of silver overhead, radiating a brittle kind of light. There are flowers everywhere, flowers that are so beautiful in their explosive array of colors. Flowers that seem shocked to be outside, assaulted by the cold. I know who most of these flowers were sent by: the Callahans. More specifically, Aidan Callahan, who’s paying for the funeral. How can I forget? I feel a twinge of nausea every time I think of that fact. I try to just forget it, to just swallow my pride because all that really matters is that Vaughn is getting the memorial service he deserves, but it’s hard.
The funeral director asked me if I wanted to say a few words, but I declined, not trusting myself to be able to get a single word out without completely falling apart. And what was there to say, anyway? That none of this was fair? That for everything Vaughn and I went through, for it to end this way was a total and complete slap in the face? No one would have wanted to listen to me ask how a person is supposed to continue living and breathing when it feels like nothing will ever be good in the world again.
In front of me on this cold, cold day, waiting to be lowered into the ground, is my brother in his casket. The casket gleams—it’s mahogany, covered in a blanket of roses. Beautiful. It probably cost more than a brand new car. Max stands next to me, and he’s saying something, but I can’t hear him. All I can do is cry. All I can do is think that this is the closest I’m ever going to be to my brother again. This is the last time I’m ever going to see him, except I’m not even seeing him because he’s in that casket.
The priest finishes speaking. The casket disappears into the ground. People come up to me again, press my hand into theirs, look into my eyes, wipe tears from their own. I force a tiny smile and nod, though, again, I don’t hear a word they say. Finally, I am by myself. I stand there staring at that hole long after everyone has gone, after Max whispers for me to take as much time as I need and that he’ll be waiting for me in the car.
I stand there so long it’s like I’m frozen in place. When I do look up, across the cemetery a huge crowd has amassed. Were they here when we got here? I don’t know. I doubt it. It would have been impossible to miss such a sea of black. How many people? Hundreds. They start to file away as I stand and watch them. A few walk by me as they leave, shooting me steely-eyed glances, giving me brisk nods of their heads. Their conversations wash over me.
“Poor Aidan. Only Callahan left now. Quite the burden to bear,” one man says to another. Both are dressed in black suits, overcoats, black sunglasses on, scarves wrapped tightly around their necks.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” the other says.
The man says something in reply, but by then they’ve walked past and I don’t hear what he says.
It seems to take forever for the people to leave the Callahan gravesites—three yawning holes, side by side. The family plot. At last, only one person remains, wearing the requisite suit and overcoat. He’s far enough away that I can’t make out the precise details of him. Close enough, however, that I can tell he’s exquisitely good-looking, like some sort of fallen angel. Dark hair. A jaw full of stubble. Dark eyes.
There’s a hand on my shoulder.
“Essie.”
It’s Max. I turn to look at him, to find his brow furrowed in concern. “C’mon. It’s time to go. It’s freezing out here, girl. Don’t want you getting sick, right?”
His worry is touching, but I ignore what he’s said. I nod over to the Callahans’ graves.
“That’s him? That’s Aidan Callahan?”
Max looks. “Couldn’t say. I’ve never seen him before. I’ve only heard his name mentioned.”
I scan the figure of the stranger at the other end of the cemetery, knowing that I’m right. Who else would hover over a grave like that? Like I’m doing right now?
Suddenly, as though he can tell he’s being talked about, Aidan Callahan turns and looks right at me. For a long moment, we stare at each other. The only thing that separates us are the graves of our loved ones. Max squeezes my shoulder.
“Seriously, Essie,” he says. “I’ll bring you back here whenever you want, but we’ve got to get you out of the cold.”
I let him lead me away. As I trip and stumble numbly over my own feet, all I can think about is Aidan Callahan. I think about the fact that I will do anything in my power to avenge my brother.
I think about how far I will go to eradicate the Callahan name from the face of this planet for good.