Page 81 of Switch!

Jesse hesitates a moment longer. Then he picks up his phone to send a text.

Jesse:I found out that they’re burying Caleb today. I want to go, but not by myself. What do you think?

Trixie:Did you forget something?

She’s referring to the code. Please don’t let her blow this!

Jesse:I’m not sure what you mean.

Trixie:Sorry! I was texting someone else when you wrote and didn’t notice I was on the wrong screen. That’s heartbreaking news about Caleb. I’m happy to be there if you need me.

Nice save!

Jesse:I’d appreciate it. The service is at two this afternoon. Does that work for you?

Trixie:Yes.

Jesse:Where can I pick you up?

Trixie:You know the Starbucks across from Wright Park?

I watch as they make plans, clamping down on any joy I feel at getting to see her again so soon. This is a somber occasion, and a strange one, because before long, I’ll be attending my own funeral.

Twenty-two ↔ Chapter

The vibe is strained when Trixie gets into Jesse’s car. She’s sizing him up, trying to figure out if I’m in control. Jesse is reassessing her while doubting if this is a good idea. As for me, I bite my tongue and hope for the best.

“You look nice,” Trixie says.

“So do you,” Jesse replies.

He’s wearing a black dress shirt and slacks. She’s wearing black jeans and a matching blouse, which is muted compared to what she had on yesterday, but the purple pigtails still make her stand out.

“It feels weird getting dressed up for a funeral,” she says. “I kept thinking, ‘Why am I making myself look good for such a sad occasion?’ We should all show up in sweatpants, like we’re too depressed to try.”

“It is strange,” Jesse agrees with a chuckle. He pokes his phone until the GPS provides directions to the funeral home. Then he starts driving. “I think it’s more about making yourself presentable out of respect. If you show up looking sloppy, people might interpret that as you not caring.”

Trixie nods. “That makes sense.” Then she looks over, eyes slightly narrowed and says, “Twitch.”

“Huh?” Jesse replies.

“I’ve got an itch,” Trixie says quickly. “This blouse is kind of scratchy. Now I remember why I don’t wear it so often. Is your boyfriend working today?”

She does a good job of getting Jesse talking. Or maybe she’s genuinely curious about who he is. I get to hear his version of how he and Colin met. The topic slowly evolves into a discussion about civil rights that continues until we reach the funeral home.

“There sure are a lot of cars,” Jesse says, sounding intimidated.

“Everyone will be glad to see you,” Trixie assures him. “It’s a nice gesture that you’re here.”

They get out and walk together, following the flow of people. I don’t see anyone I recognize. Not until we enter the chapel. The rows of wooden pews are mostly filled. I notice Captain Valadez and his wife standing toward the front. They aren’t alone. I almost don’t recognize Eddie. Maybe it’s the suit and tie that he’s wearing. Or how he’s behaving. I’ve never seen him so listless. He’s standing next to his parents while they speak with another couple, his eyes trained on the floor. He only raises his chin when following them to the pews.

“Which side of the room do we belong to?” Trixie whispers.

“You’re thinking of weddings,” Jesse says. “We should sit toward the back. Right here will be fine.”

They take the seats closest to the aisle in the last row. Jesse keeps glancing around, but not always in the direction I want him to. He mostly focuses on the front of the room, where a cluster of people stand. I only get brief glimpses as people move away and are replaced by others. Mrs. McCain is always in their center. Mr. McCain too.

“Are those his parents?” Trixie asks.