On Second Thought(19)

Yeah. We had an open casket. I wasn’t sure who said yes to that. It might have been me.

Most of the people here were strangers to me—friends I hadn’t met, friends of the elder Coburns, friends of Brooke. The boys’ classmates came, which was just brutal, seeing Miles and Atticus trying not to cry, and failing. The Little League team Nathan and Chase coached together came in as well, the little sweaty boy hands shaking mine, the kids unable to look me in the eye.

As wife, I came first in the reception line. Then Eloise, her finishing school posture ramrod straight, and Nathan Senior, who was medicated, I was pretty sure, the lucky dog. God. No, he wasn’t lucky. The rusty spike twisted.

Then came Brooke, who was being so brave and kind, though how, I could not imagine. Chase was solemn, nodding, speaking in a low voice, moving the line along, putting his arm around Brooke. At the end were Atticus and Miles in their little navy suits, which just ruined me.

My sister and Eric sat in the front row with Matthias and Esther, Esther crying quietly, Matt giving me a sad smile when our eyes met. And Mom, who wore a you should’ve listened to me look on her face. What was she? A f*cking gypsy? Sean and Kiara were murmuring in the back, shaking hands, listening sympathetically. They’d left Sadie with a sitter, but they’d brought a drawing she made for me, smears of pink and green paint.

“Oh, Kate! I’m just so sorry!” Hugging me now was one of Nathan’s workmates, a fellow architect whose name I couldn’t summon. Her body shook with sobs. “I am so, so, so sorry.”

Three sos. He deserved them.

“He was so happy with you,” she whispered, pulling back to look at me.

“Oh. Yes. Thank you.” My throat was so tight, the words croaked out. “He was—” was? Shit, all this past tense! “—so fond of you.” Whoever you are.

The coworker’s mouth trembled, her eyes red. “Anything you need, just call me,” she whispered, moving on to Eloise.

“Susannah,” my mother-in-law said, never one to forget a name. Her Boston accent made the name sound like Susahnner. “You’re so kind to be here. I know Kate appreciates it very much, as do we.”

Nathan and I would never make fun of his mother again. Oh, he’d loved her, all right, but he could do a killer imitation of that upper-crust accent, her soft Rs and long vowels. “Is this hahf-and-hahf?” he’d say. “Hahven’t you any skim, my deah?”

I’d never hear him do that again. How was that possible?

“Hello. Thank you for coming,” I said to the next tie, my voice wobbling.

“Kate, these are the Parkersons,” Eloise said, her voice trembling slightly. “Our next-door neighbors when Nathan was a boy.”

“We can’t believe it,” Mrs. Parkerson said, tears pouring down her face. “We just can’t believe it. He was such a good person!”

“I’m Kate,” I said. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“We flew in from Arizona. Terrible storms in Chicago.”

“Well. We appreciate it.”

“He used to rake our leaves,” the husband said. “We’d pay him a dollar, remember, Eloise? Imagine that. Kids today can’t drop their iBoxes to do a damn thing, but Nathan did our whole yard for one dollar.”

So you were cheap and took advantage of a kid. Got it.

“At least you don’t have children,” the woman said. It felt like a punch in the throat. Before I could answer—and what do you say to that?—they moved on to Brooke and fell on her like vampires.

Poor Eloise. I had no idea how she could hold it together like this. On impulse, I reached out to squeeze her hand, but she turned away to say something to the neighbors before I could, and my hand was left floating, awkward and alone.

Impressions of people swarmed me like bats after dark. There was what’s-his-name, the guy whose office was next to Nathan’s, covering his face with his hand, crying. They’d worked together for a long time, I thought. Just inching through the doorway now was one of the shop owners from downtown—Jenny, who owned the wedding dress shop, and her boyfriend. Lenny? No. Something cooler. Leo. So nice of them to come. We were going to have dinner, Jenny and Leo, Nathan and I. Not now. No more foursomes. Not unless I found another husband, quick.

The thought made me sputter with a laugh, the edge of hysteria that much closer. I turned it into a cough. I wasn’t sure anyone was fooled.

I met Nathan’s Boy Scout troop leader; the woman at the post office; the mayor of Cambry-on-Hudson, who used to babysit him. His cross-country coach from middle school, his cross-country coach from high school, his teammates, his classmates, his college mates, his graduate school mates, his workmates. Everyone knew Nathan. Everyone had a story.

Another person from downtown Cambry-on-Hudson stood in line. Kim from Cottage Confections, who’d made us a tiny, beautiful wedding cake when she heard we’d eloped. She and Jenny the wedding dress designer and I had drinks when I moved into my new studio, all of us linked by the wedding industry. Kim had gone to school with Nathan. She’d told me a funny story about him at an eighth-grade social, when he danced right into a pole and got a bloody nose.

She saw me looking now and gave a little wave, tears in her eyes.

I wasn’t sure how I could keep breathing. The spike seemed to be cutting everything off. Maybe I’d faint. Fainting would be good. I wouldn’t have to be here if I was unconscious.