Instead of You(14)

I never finished that sentence because Hayes pulled me into his arms, running a hand down my hair, whispering that everything was okay, that he wasn’t going anywhere.



When the day finally came for the funeral, it felt surreal. I had never, not in a million years, thought I’d ever be attending Cory’s funeral. Even if we’d grown up and gotten married just like everyone had planned, I’d never thought that far ahead. I thought it would be years before I ever even had to go to a funeral. And even though eighteen was too young, in my opinion, to be going to your best friend’s funeral, it was most definitely too young to be dead.

Everything about Cory’s funeral felt wrong.

Mrs. Wallace insisted we sit in the front pew, even though I’d wanted to be as far away from the caskets as possible. Hayes sat on the end, his hand wrapped around his mother’s, resting in her lap. I was sure everyone in the church could hear Mrs. Wallace weeping throughout the funeral, and there was no denying it was heartbreaking.

Sometimes, people refer to funerals as celebrations of life. But not that funeral.

No.

No one was there to remember the good times, or think about how much light Cory had brought his parents, or how lucky Mrs. Wallace had been to spend her life with her husband.

No.

Everyone was painfully aware that we were in mourning, that these deaths were a tragedy, and there was no way to lighten the mood. Mrs. Wallace was crying, and she wasn’t the only one.

When the pastor of the church neither Cory nor I had ever attended finished talking about life and what a gift it was, and how we can’t always understand what was in store for us or our loved ones, he took a step back and I startled as Hayes stood and started walking toward the pulpit. The instant he was absent from his mother’s side, Mrs. Wallace slumped toward my mother and I realized she was incapable of even holding herself upright.

Hayes walked past me and our eyes met for just one second and even though I’d never found him to be particularly easy to read, the emotion held in just that one second of contact left me reeling. It was almost as if every emotion he’d been feeling in the last two weeks was stored in his eyes, creating a storm of feelings that was about to erupt right in front of me. I wanted to jump off my seat, take his hand, and just be next to him. I wanted for him to let me help carry some of the weight I could see grasping his shoulders with invisible hands.

But before I could even blink, he pulled his eyes away from mine and continued on his way.

He made it to the little podium, pulled a piece of paper out of his front jacket pocket, and unfolded it, placing it on the wooden platform. He took a deep breath, releasing it audibly as the crowd in the church, which was so full there were people standing in the back, waited with bated breath to hear his broken words.

He finally looked up and the urge to run to him only grew. I didn’t want him doing it alone.

“The first thing I’d like to say is that, on behalf of my mother and myself, we’d like to thank everyone for their support. The past two weeks have been trying, to say the least, and things would only be worse if it weren’t for the love and support coming to us from our friends and family. You see,” he continued, his eyes darting down to his paper, “my mother and I have found ourselves to be in somewhat new territory.” His hand came up, running absently through his hair, eyes still downward. “When faced with unimaginable circumstances, there are only a few choices to be made. Among the terrible choices, one has been our mode of operation: cling to those around you. I’ve been away at college for a few years and even though I think it’s normal, I hadn’t been talking to my parents as often as I should have, and I definitely wasn’t talking to Cory as much as I should have, and that’s something I regret.

“My mom called me a few weeks before Cory’s birthday and invited me home for his birthday dinner. I wasn’t far, just a two-hour drive, but I was too busy. Too involved in my own life. Too cool, maybe? I was a lot of things, but I didn’t bother coming home.” He let out a loud, swooshing breath, swaying back and forth like he were moving his weight from one foot to another. “I have no idea what would have happened had I come home. There’s no way to tell. I like to think I would have gone with them, would have been with them in that convenience store, would have done something to prevent us all from having to be here today, but I’ll never know.

“What I do know, what I’ve learned in the last two weeks, is that nothing is guaranteed. Things you think you are owed, you just can’t count on. You think you’ll never have to bury your brother and your father on the same day? Think again. You think you’ll be old and gray before someone close to you passes away? Nope.”

I could see his hands shaking, his body growing restless. I knew he was a ticking time bomb, and knowing that, I felt the same. I was antsy, wanting to run to him, pull him away, tell him he didn’t owe anyone any more of his words or thoughts. Enough had been taken from him.

“If Cory were here he’d tell you all, I’m sure, to live as if tomorrow weren’t a given, as though you’ve only got this one chance to take what you want from life. And if you can’t take his word for it, take mine.”

My breath caught as Hayes’s eyes met mine. My chest ached as he spoke directly to me, even though the entire church was full of people holding back cries and wiping their eyes.

“If you let that one moment pass you by where you could have grabbed what you wanted, there will come a day when it’s out of your grasp, and regret will haunt you, just like a ghost.”