Love Survives (Love's Suicide #2)(3)

It was a day that would live in America’s hearts forever; a day that we lost so many of our own from terrorism. My mom said nothing on the ride home, but it was obvious she was frantic for answers. Once my dad came home it was clear that they were desperate to find Kat’s mom. We all assumed it was only her dad that we needed to fear the worst for. Hours passed, with my parents clung to each other, watching the news for a glimmer of hope, while we stayed back keeping Kat far away from seeing the aftermath.

It wasn’t like any of us, including the adults, could prepare for something so tragic. We didn’t know what to say, or how to act. Her pain could be heard as she flooded a river’s worth of tears. It got even worse when the truth was revealed.

On that day, September 11th 2001, Kat not only lost her mother, but also her father to the attacks on the Pentagon. We didn’t know the reason, not that it even mattered why. All any of my family cared about was protecting Kat from the extreme amount of pain she was going through. As the days passed, and the horrors became her own reality, I watched my best friend, and the girl I’d fallen in love with, lose herself. She put up walls and seemed lost in the truth of it all. It didn’t help that every channel on the television had coverage of the events that took her parents lives. Seeing the videos playing out, watching the building crumble, it was inevitably difficult. Her parents had been our family too. We’d called them aunt and uncle. We’d loved them our entire lives.

A day or so had gone by before my mom was able to obtain the recordings from their home voicemail. It was then that Kat heard her parent’s voices for the very last time. In their last moments alive they sent her a desperate plea to be strong and know they loved her more than anything else in the world. In my honest opinion it only made matters worse. Kat was destroyed, and I don’t know if she’d ever be able to forget what they sounded like in those last seconds they were with us on this earth. It was obvious that she’d lived with that memory, dwelled on it, until she lost herself completely.

From the very beginning our parents both pulled us aside one night to talk about it. My mother carried a tissue in her hands while she paced the small study. Dad sat back in his chair watching her with concern. “Boys, what’s happened is tragic. We still don’t know all the details, but Katy needs us to stay strong for her. It’s imperative that she not see us crying or upset.” My dad wasn’t always outspoken, but it was very obvious they considered Kat family. In his own way he was hurting too.

“What happens if they’re dead?” Branch asked.

“Don’t talk that way,” our mother interrupted with more sniffles.

“She’s right, Branch. Don’t say that. Think of Kat. She needs them to be okay.” Even though I was wondering the same thing, I couldn’t bring myself to admit it like my brother.

“Sorry, but it could happen. What then?”

“Then we take care of Katy. We give her support and love.” Our dad folded his hands as he spoke, looking over at both of us the whole time. “Do you understand, boys? It’s necessary to stay positive. We can’t give up hope.” It was weird, but I watched him turn to my mother when he said it, as if he was sending some kind of innuendo just for her.

Branch and I watched our mother march out of the room, seemingly disgusted.

When we turned to our dad for answers he faked a smile. “You’re mother is just upset. She’ll be fine.”

In those days following the death of her parents I put my personal feelings for Kat aside. She needed her two best friends, so that’s what Branch and I provided her with. We stayed by her side, even when we had nothing left to talk about. I held her hand when I knew she needed an extra amount of comfort. I cried when I knew she wasn’t around to see it, and come the day of the funeral, I held it all in to be the rock she needed me to be.

It wasn’t just Kat that was suffering though. I couldn’t remember ever seeing my mother so heartbroken before. Her tears were genuine, and I knew why. I’d been keeping a secret of my own for a long time, hoping that maybe my eyes had been playing tricks on me that night. I couldn’t believe that it was more than a friendly embrace. Yet, somehow I now knew it had to have been. Something had been going on with my mother and Kat’s dad; something taboo that could tear our families apart. There was no need to bring it up to my father, or even mention to my mother that I knew why she was having such a tough time. Mr. Michaels was dead, and whatever was going on between the two of them was irrelevant. I couldn’t shame my mother even though for a while I kept my distance. Now, more than ever, we had to become one family. Kat’s future depended on it. I depended on it. We needed my parents to stay together, so we wouldn’t be ripped apart anymore.

I’ll never forget the day they found her parent’s remains. Kat had to be comforted by adults while Branch and myself were left to prepare for what we would say when we got our chance. In the tree house, where we’d shared so many good memories, the two of us discussed what we could say to Kat.

“I’m going to tell her a joke, not a bad one either. I’ll find the funniest thing I can, and make sure she smiles,” Branch announced.

“She doesn’t need to smile right now, you idiot. She needs to cry. Put yourself in her shoes.” It annoyed me how Branch thought he knew what Kat needed. “She’s falling apart. Both of her parents are gone. They’re never coming back. A joke isn’t going to solve anything.”