Page 91
Story: When We Kiss
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you made the trip all the way out here to check on me for nothing.” She slips her hand in mine again and starts to walk toward the enormous ballroom. “I am seeing someone. I’m very happily seeing someone. His name is Trevor Johnson.”
Pulling her hand, I stop our progress, turning her to face me. “Trevor Johnson?” She nods waiting as I mentally run through everybody I know. “I don’t recognize that name.”
“You wouldn’t. He’s a musician… and hold onto your hat.” A mischievous light is in her eyes, and she smiles, stepping closer to my ear. “He’s the wrong shade of beige, if you get my drift. Too much pigment for the old guard.”
“He’s black?”
“Black as ebony and so gorgeous!” She does a little shiver. “You should see him. I think I really might be in love for the first time in my life.”
I have to hand it to her. I only walked away from this scene. She’s taking a sledgehammer to it.
“That’s great news.” I squeeze her hand. “I hope you’re very happy together.”
She cocks an eyebrow at me. “You’re seeing someone, too.” She lifts her chin and nods. “You are! I can tell. And… it looks like you’re in love.”
I try to act confused, but I can’t help smiling. I kind of wish Tabby were here to meet Nan. She’d like her a lot. “What makes you say that?”
“For starters, you haven’t told me how beautiful I look tonight.” She holds out her arms and turns as if she’s modeling her dress for me.
Relief bubbles up in my chest, and I laugh. For the first time in a year, this weight is off my shoulders. “You are very beautiful tonight. I thought it the moment I saw you.”
“And you’re as wonderful as ever. Now, escort me inside and let’s get some food.” Her hand goes in the crook of my arm, and she leans her head against my shoulder. “As grandma always said, you’re more fortunate to be rich in love than rich in money.”
My hand covers hers, and I couldn’t agree more.
Walking along the manicured lawn of the cemetery the next day, I think about Robbie and Nan and me. It’s good to know I’m not alone in feeling suffocated by this place. I worry for my friend. She’s venturing into sticky territory. Still, if anyone is strong enough to brave those waters, it’s Nan.
Strength and bravery. My sister’s headstone is a large angel holding both hands up to the sky. It’s an unexpected tribute, knowing her, but I’m sure it’s the story my parents want to believe.
My memory is slightly different, although I like their version better. I want to think of her as a strong warrior who reached up to heaven and flew to something better.
A fine mist fills the air, and gray fog has rolled in off the ocean. I’m wearing a dark wool topcoat, and I look down at the bouquet of white lilies in my hand. They have deep green stems and leaves, and they’re wrapped in paper.
I lean forward to put the flowers in the vase at the feet of the angel.
Charity Yvette Tucker is engraved in all caps on the base of the monument. Beloved daughter and sister, is next. Heaven needed you sooner than we were ready.
The quote has never felt right to me, even now as I stand reading it over and over in the damp air as the mist slowly turns to rain.
I remember a young girl with swirling brown hair. I remember her being playful and careless, climbing out of windows and running all over town in the dead of night. I remember her holding hands with girls and kissing them. I remember thinking she was playing a dangerous game…
“I’m sorry I was too young to understand.” My throat aches as I say the words. “I’m sorry I was too ignorant to help you.”
I remember my father shutting us out. I remember my mother clutching her chest and crying. I remember Cherry just wanting to be free.
“I hope you’re happy wherever you are.”
My hands are in my pockets, and I wait for something to happen, a feeling to come, something.
Last night, talking to Nan, I felt a release. I knew that part of my life was closed. I’m not sure I’ll ever get closure on this one.
When someone you love dies, it’s like everything stops making sense. The little things that used to matter so much seem silly. I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel normal again. I wasn’t sure I could ever believe in anything again.
Believe…
It’s raining more, and I have to go.
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