I drove toward San Antonio with a numbness in my heart that had been lingering there ever since I heard the news. I still couldn't believe my parents were gone. Both of them. It had happened so suddenly and without warning.
The entire drive to the funeral home was riddled with bouts of uncontrollable crying and regret. Why hadn't I visited them more often? I was a horrible daughter. I had cut them off almost as bad as I had my friends, only visiting on holidays. Some holidays, I didn't come home at all. I simply called to tell them I loved them. In truth, we had drifted apart since I left for college, but they weren't any less my parents. Conversations I had with my mom rolled through my mind, all the times she'd ask me when I was coming home for a visit and then the sound of disappointment in her voice when I'd put it off because of work or something else stupid. I hated myself for it now, wished it was me who had died instead of them. There was nothing that could be done about it though. They were gone, and I was still here, and I would have to live with this regret for the rest of me life. So many mistakes I had made. Would I ever do anything right, ever learn not to be selfish?
My Aunt Erica and Uncle Raymond were waiting for me at the funeral home. They hugged me and gave me their condolences, then handed me the keys to my parents' house and walked with me inside to view the bodies. I broke down on sight of them. They had been pretty mangled in the accident, but the mortician had done his best to piece them back together into something fit for viewing. It was hard seeing my parents like that, dead and still and pale, with sunken faces that made them look more like deflated dolls than people.
“Oh God,” I sobbed into my Aunt Erica's shoulder while she ran her fingers through my hair.
“I know. It will be alright. They loved you very much,” she said soothingly.
There was no doubt in my mind that they loved me very much. They had always gone out of their way to show it. But did they know that I loved them? Judging by how I had acted these past few years, I couldn't help but doubt it. Being in that room with them, I just wanted to die, to lie down beside them and be buried. Or even better, offer my soul in exchange for bringing one of them back, or both, if God would allow me to be greedy. That's not how this worked though.
“Where are you staying?” Uncle Raymond asked.
“A friend got me a hotel room near the cemetery until after the funeral,” I replied. It was Lawrence's way of showing me support since I told him not to bother taking off for the funeral. He had never known my parents, so it would just seem strange if he was there, especially since none of my family had ever met him before.
“Well, we'd like to take you to dinner tonight and catch up, if that's alright. I know you've had a long drive.”
“It wasn't that long of a drive, but I could use getting away from here for a while.”
We gave my parents lingering respectful looks before we headed out the door. The cool air felt good against my face, washing away the scent of formaldehyde, paint, and flowers that made the funeral home all the more unpleasant. There was no stifling it. It just came with the territory of being around dead people.
My mind lingered on the image of my mother and father in their caskets, and again regret flooded through me, causing my eyes to water. I would be a mess for the rest of the night. The wound of losing them was still so new. I wondered how long it would take for the pain to go away.
We carpooled to a Mexican restaurant down the road. It seemed like my aunt and uncle's moods had lifted since we left the funeral home. Perhaps they were just trying to seem more chipper for me, though there was still deep sympathy in their expressions and voices.
“I wish I would have come home more often,” I said with a sigh as we sat to wait for the waitress to bring us menus.
“I think they understood that you had your own life,” Aunt Erica told me. She was a gorgeous Hispanic woman, not related to me by blood, though I felt closer to her than all of my other biological aunts. My uncle had really lucked out by marrying her. She was loving, funny, and sharp as a tack when she needed to be.
“I did have my own life, but I should have included more of them in it.”
“Well, I'm sure they wouldn't want you to think like that,” my uncle chimed in, keeping his eyes to the table as if the subject made him uncomfortable.
“Yeah, Mama. Try to remember them as they were. They loved you very much,” Aunt Erica said.
“What are you going to do with the house?” Uncle Raymond asked.
“I haven't even really thought about it.”
“Well, it's something you're going to have to think about. The house is yours now.”
“Raymond,” Aunt Erica chastised him. “She just got here. She doesn't need to worry about that now.”
“Well, I'm just saying. Owning a house is a big responsibility. She needs to start going through their stuff and figure out what she's going to do with it if she's going to sell it.”
“I know. But she doesn't need to think about that now,” her voice was stern, quickly silencing him. “Besides, it's a beautiful house. I see no reason why she wouldn't want to move back into it.”
“I definitely don't want to move back into it,” I said quickly.
“Why not? Too many memories?” She gave me an earnest look.
“Something like that.”
I had spent my entire life trying to escape Castroville. There was no way I was going to move there. My uncle was right though, if I wasn't planning on moving back, then the house would need to be cleared out. I had taken a week off from work, and the funeral wasn't for two more days. Perhaps after the funeral was over, I could head to Castroville and start figuring things out.
The majority of the meal was spent discussing the fond memories my aunt and uncle had of my parents. I always found it interesting to hear about the time before I was born. When my uncle started getting too sentimental, conversation turned to what my cousins were up to. Most of them had kids of their own already. It was strange thinking about how everyone else's lives had gone through the natural progression, and I was lagging behind.
“Are you still seeing that doctor?” Aunt Erica asked.
“Yeah. We still go on dates.”
“My God, girl, when is he going to put a ring on it? You guys have been together forever now.”
“Four years,” I sighed, thinking about Lawrence.
He had been nothing but supportive when I told him what had happened. We canceled our dinner plans, and he cradled me in his arms while I cried, telling me that everything would be alright. It was like a big kumbaya moment on the couch that night, with me being hugged between Alice and Lawrence like I was some small child who needed protection. I was shattered though, and they were doing everything they could to keep me together.
Now that my parents were gone, I felt so alone. It changed the way I thought about my relationship with Lawrence. I needed a deeper connection, something permanent to ground me. Maybe we could discuss it when I got back.
My uncle paid for dinner, we hugged out in the parking lot, and then parted ways. I knew I would see them at the funeral home again tomorrow, along with a torrent of other relatives and family friends I hadn't seen in ages. That's usually how these things worked. It would be best if I just went back to the room and had a good night's sleep so that I would be mentally prepared to face it all the next day.
I called Alice and Lawrence when I got back to the room to let them know I was alright, then took a long hot shower and curled up in bed for sleep, wondering who all I would see at the funeral home the following day. It was going to be exhausting dealing with all the crying relatives and keeping myself together at the same time, listening to all the recollections of times past that I hadn't experienced. Mourning was never fun.
The next day, I woke up bright and early, got dressed, and went downstairs for continental breakfast. Then I put on my brave face and headed back to the funeral home. It had just opened, so no one was there yet, and I was allowed a few moments alone with my parents. I looked over their bodies, combing my father's hair into the normal style he usually wore instead of the one the mortician had chosen for him. For some reason, they never quite got it right. As I did, my eyes began to well up with tears, and I found myself mumbling every apology I could think of.
“I'm sorry I didn't come home more. I know you and mom wanted to see me so badly sometimes, and I just wouldn't come because I was being stupid and selfish. I love you guys so much, but I just didn't want to go back there. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Everyone was so nice to me. You were always so good. I just hated that town. Still hate it, and I don't even know why.
“I never meant to hurt you by not coming home. You both deserved a better child than me, someone who was grateful.” Someone like Darren. He had probably been closer to my parents than I was. That thought made me even angrier at myself.
“I wish I could trade places with you,” I continued. “Both of you. You guys did everything right. I'm doing everything wrong. I've spent my whole life trying not to turn into you, but what do I have to show for it? You had each other . . . and me. You did everything you could to make sure we had the best life possible. And I did everything for myself, and now I'm alone, dating a man I probably don't have a future with.”
This was a bad time to bring Lawrence into this—a bad time to sound hateful after what he had done for me. He had been by my side for four years. Maybe he didn't want to get married and have kids, but he was happy to be by my side. He loved me and took care of me just as good as any husband. We didn't want to ruin the lives we had built for ourselves, did we? Wouldn't getting married just mess things up? It had for him and his ex-wife. And then what would Alice do?
“I'm so fucking selfish,” I grumbled, sitting back in one of the chairs while I waited for my family members to arrive.
The day was long and every bit as exhausting as I'd imagined it would be. Relatives, close and distant, came to pay their respects, along with several people whom I didn't know. There was the pastor from the local church as well as some of their church friends and my father's co-workers. They all gave me their condolences. I tried to handle the flow of people with as much poise and grace as I could muster.
One more day. I thought as I headed back to the hotel room. Tomorrow would be the viewing and funeral, and then it would be over. What lie ahead was a far bigger task, dealing with their estate. Though several of my family members offered to help me go through my parents' stuff, I decided it was something I'd rather tackle alone. If it ended up being more than I could handle, I could always call for help later.
The following day, I arrived bright and early at the funeral home again. The caskets had been moved into the church part of the funeral home for the service that would be taking place after lunch. I smiled as I entered the small church, admiring the flower arrangements that framed the two caskets.
Curiously, I walked toward the front of the room, reading the cards on the flower arrangements to see who they were from. Most were from family, but there was an arrangement of roses from my father's work, and a large cross made from lilies that was signed by Darren's parents. My heart caught in my chest as I read their names on the card. Darren's name was nowhere to be seen.
“They were your mother's favorite flower, I recall,” someone said from behind me, causing my entire body to tense as I recognized the voice.
I turned around with my best fake smile, expecting to see the scrawny boy that I had shared so many of my firsts with. The man who stood before me made me choke on my own breath though. If he was half as shocked to look upon me as I was to look upon him, I didn't see it behind his Caribbean blue eyes. They were calm and unwavering, gazing at me empty of sentiment.
“They were,” I stuttered, taking in every inch of the Adonis in front of me.
Darren had filled out, and not in a bad way. His shoulders were broader, his jaw fuller. He'd traded the bowl haircut in for a messy tousled style neatly groomed on the sides, and he had a five o'clock shadow that made him look absolutely delicious. I found myself almost involuntarily undressing him with my eyes, knowing that what was beneath the gray pinstripe two button suit was nothing like I remembered. It was like looking at Darren for the first time and seeing what every single girl in high school had seen, but I had been too blinded by friendship to appreciate. He was gorgeous, and I immediately felt a twinge of jealousy when I saw the modelesque brunette on his arm.
He's married. Of course he is. Why wouldn't he be? He was always perfect. Those were my first thoughts until I glanced at his hand and saw that there wasn't a ring. Then I felt guilty for checking in the first place. It didn't matter. He was in the past. We had different lives now, and we didn't belong in each other's.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“Fine. I'm fine, given the circumstances.” I said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
Damn. His girlfriend is smoking hot. Way hotter than I am. I shouldn't be surprised though. He's quite the catch. He could always get someone better looking than me, even then. I don't know why he liked me back then.
“This is Eleanor,” he introduced me to the beautiful creature at his side. “Eleanor, this is Tara, the friend I told you about.”
“Hi,” she replied timidly, outstretching a perfectly manicured hand to shake mine.
I greeted her with as much kindness as I could muster, though inside I was silently stewing at Darren for bringing her.
“To be honest, I was kind of hoping I could sneak in and out without you noticing me,” he said.
“Why is that?”
“Because I didn't think you'd want to see me. As I recall, you were a lot happier with me not in your life.” If there was pain in his voice, he hid it well. The conversation was as causal as if he was talking about the weather.
“No. I mean, you were closer to my parents than I was,” I said with a sigh. “You should be here.”
“Good. Then I'll inform my parents that they're welcome to attend the funeral. That will please them.”
“Yes, of course. Of course, they're welcome.” I was sounding stupid. Oh my God, was I really being like this in front of Darren. It was Darren, for crying out loud, my high school friend, not some stud I had just met on the street. We knew each other—at least, used to know each other. He shouldn't be affecting me this way at all.
“Excellent. Well, we won't stay long. I just wanted to come pay my respects real quick, in case I didn't get another chance.” He glanced at the caskets, and his blue eyes softened solemnly. I felt a twinge of empathetic pain, as if in that moment, I could understand how he felt. They were almost as much his parents as they were mine. We had shared parents growing up, and when I had left, he had filled the gap that my absence created. He deserved to be here just as much as I did.
I nodded respectfully and walked around them to go sit in a pew while they went to look upon my parents. Eleanor stayed close to Darren's side, lacing her fingers into his and squeezing his hand as he stepped up to gaze over the side of my mother's casket. I watched them with a sick sadness in my heart. If my parents had gotten their way, it would have been me standing next to Darren.
He mumbled some sentimental words, bent to kiss my mother on the cheek, then walked over to my father's casket and said something else that I couldn't make out. Eleanor looked at him like a wounded animal, though I could tell the whole scenario made her uncomfortable. When they turned around, the light caught Darren's eyes, and I could swear I saw them rimmed with tears. He cast a weak smile in my direction, and then they hurriedly departed, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
For the next fifteen minutes, I sat there and cried, but it had little to do with the death of my parents. I was so angry at myself for screwing my life up, as if seeing Darren had been a shovel to my heart, digging up even more of my past. I imagined my mom sitting in the pew beside me, chastising me for letting such an amazing man go.
“It could have been you,” she told me. “You two could have been like your father and I. Like Mr. and Mrs. Wallace.”
My mom had no idea who Mrs. Wallace was, so I knew it was all in my head. Still, the words resoundingly made me think about what was missing in my life, what my life should be like. Lawrence and I would definitely have to have that talk when I got back.
Relatives and friends came and went throughout the day until it was time for the funeral. My aunts and uncles crowded in beside me in the front pew while the rest of the family and friends filled up the other rows. The service was short and sweet, performed by the pastor who had come to visit the day before. I was glad my parents' pastor was able to perform the service for them. They would have liked that.
When the service was over, I stepped into the limo with the pallbearers, and we made the short journey to the graveyard where my parents' bodies would be laid to rest. The pastor said a few more words, and then I was called up to speak. It wasn't until then that I noticed Darren and his parents standing at the back of all the people, absent Eleanor.
I cleared my throat, trying to choke back the sobbing that wanted to come from the intense last few moments of having my parents above ground. “Vernon and Leslie Edwards were my parents, but they were so much more than that. They were hard workers, friends, role models. My father worked hard to provide a life for my mother and I. And my mother worked hard to make sure I was brought up with the right morals and values. I didn't always do right by them, but I tried to be a good daughter.
“It's said that the good tend to die young. I can't think of two better people who could have been taken from the world so prematurely. I just hope they can look down from heaven and know they've done the best they could to raise me, and that I will forever be grateful that God was kind enough to bless me with them as parents. I love you, Mom and Dad, and I'll never forget the things you taught me.”
By the end of my speech, half the crowd was in tears, and I joined in with them the second I was aloud to step away from the caskets, finding comfort in my Aunt Erica's arms. A few other relatives stepped up to say some things, and then they began lowering my parents into the ground. The crowd started to disperse as the ceremony ended. I was hugged by more people than I could count or knew. It was oddly comforting, despite the fact I usually didn't enjoy being touched by strangers. In that moment, I needed all the love and support I could get.
My aunt and uncle lingered behind until almost everyone else was gone. To my surprise, Darren's parents lingered as well, though he had left the moment that the ceremony ended, not even bothering to speak to me before he went. It was an unintentional stab at my heart, how uncaring he had become. Had we really drifted so far apart, far enough that he wouldn't even speak to me at my own parents' funeral?
“Tara, dear,” his mom said as she came up to embrace me, holding me to her with all the love that Darren had denied me. “I'm so sorry.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jones.”
Darren's father stood behind her, looking sympathetic but uncomfortable. Neither of them had aged much in the seven and a half years since I'd last seen them. Most of Darren's features came from his mother—his blonde almost white hair, and his blue eyes. The only thing he had taken from his father was his height. Mr. Jones was a brunette, though his hair was now more gray than brown. He had dark eyes and a sharp jawline. It fit his serious personality well.
“Are you going to be in town for a while?” Mrs. Jones asked as she pulled away from me.
“Yeah. I think I'm going to be staying out in Castroville for the next few days trying to settle my parents' affairs.”
“You should come to dinner tomorrow. We'd love to have you.”
Her invitation caught me off-guard. I didn't want to be rude, so I simply said, “Sure, I would love that.” When inside, I was really thinking that I'd rather not. I had too much to get done to spend anymore time visiting. How could I say no though after they'd been nice enough to attend the funeral?
Pleased with my response, Mr. and Mrs. Jones exchanged kind words with my aunt and uncle before taking their leave.
I sighed, watching as the funeral workers finished lowering my parents into the ground. This was it; I would never see them again. Another chapter of my life was closed, the chapter where I had living parents who loved me. Now, it was just me. How empty the world felt being alone.