Maybe This Time(45)

I scoffed.

“It’s true!” Micah said.

I watched the hearse disappear down the street.

“You okay?” Micah asked.

I didn’t have time for this weird breakdown I seemed to be in the middle of. “The flowers are supposed to be graveside too,” I said.

“Then I guess we’d better get them,” Micah said, and started heading back to the church.

Andrew was a little slower to comply. He lingered, as though he had something to say.

“I don’t have time for you to analyze me,” I told him. “Keep it to yourself.”

He shrugged and walked off after Micah.





The graveside service itself was surprisingly uneventful. Hot, a bit depressing, but uneventful. Now we were at Mrs. Lawson’s house. I stood in the middle of the crowded living room all alone. Micah and Andrew had driven over with me, but now I couldn’t find them and I was ready to go home.

“Soph.” There was a tap on my arm and I turned to see Kyle.

“Hey, you’re here.” I swore I said those words to him more often than normal. Was it weird that I was always surprised to see him somewhere? “I mean, I didn’t see you at the church.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t there. Had band practice.” He nodded his head to Jodi, who was at the table filling up a plate with food. I didn’t see Bryce or Lincoln, though. “Are you here alone?” Kyle asked me.

“No. I’m here with … friends,” I said. It would be nice if those friends showed up now so I didn’t seem so pathetic, but apparently Andrew only appeared when I didn’t want him to.

“Cool,” Kyle said. “I’m going to go get some food.”

“Okay. Have fun.” Have fun?

He gave me a slow smile and joined Jodi at the food table.

We’d been out three times. Interactions shouldn’t still be so awkward. I wound my way through the crowd and out to the back patio. It was empty except for two couches and a porch swing. I opted for the porch swing.

Minutes later, Andrew walked outside with a plate of food. Of course he’d show up now.

“For one second I was wondering why everyone was packed inside and nobody was out here,” Andrew said. “But then I was suffocated by the air and understood perfectly.”

“Yeah, it’s hot,” I agreed.

He sat down next to me, the swing jostling a little.

“Where’s Micah?” I asked.

“I saw her talking to Lance,” he said.

“Oh, okay.”

“They like each other, right?” Andrew said. “Tell me I’m not the only one who sees that.”

I laughed a little, glad I wasn’t the only one who thought that. “They already dated once. You know how stubborn Micah is. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”

“I may have mentioned it a couple of times, but you’re right, she shuts me down.” He looked at his food. “So, etiquette coach, what is the appropriate amount of time to stay at a funeral reception?”

“We have done our duty. We just need to get Micah.”

“Maybe we should give her a minute, considering who she’s talking to.” He took a bite of ambrosia salad. “What is this?” he asked through his mouthful.

“Dessert pretending to be healthy.”

He nodded. “What are the little chunks?”

I looked at what remained on his plate. “I don’t know. Probably coconut?”

He scooped up a bite and held it out for me. “That is not coconut. Try it.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I ate the salad off his fork, let it sit in my mouth for a moment, then said, “Cherries? Is that what you’re tasting?”

“Ah. That’s probably it. I’m not a maraschino cherry fan.”

“That’s one of those things people are either passionate about or loathe. Like cilantro.”

“Or pecan pie,” he said.

“Pecan pie?” I asked. “There is no debate about pecan pie. And if there is, then you haven’t tried …” I trailed off, about to sound like a small-town girl again.

“Whose pecan pie do I need to try?”

“Never mind. You don’t know her.”

He nodded slowly. Then, despite his claimed hatred of maraschino cherries, he continued to eat the salad. “Do you believe in an afterlife?”

“From pecan pie to the afterlife? That’s quite a jump.”

“Funerals.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you believe in an afterlife? Or yes, funerals?”

“Yes, I believe in an afterlife.” I paused and looked up at the clouds. “I’m not sure exactly what it will consist of, but I believe we all have a soul, something that makes us who we are. When my gran died, I remember looking at her body and knowing something was missing, that she was no longer her.” I gave him a sideways glance. “What about you?”

“I agree.”

“Wow, something we agree on,” I said.

“I know, weird.” He tapped his foot a few times on a nail that was jutting out of the wooden railing around the porch. “Is that why you got upset today? Because this reminded you of your grandmother’s funeral?”