Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I walk into Bennett’s house, unbuttoning the three buttons on my black suit jacket as I do, and I find Breezy in the kitchen. Her hip rests against the counter, a half-empty cup of coffee in her hands. A black dress covers her figure, and her dark bob is perfectly in place. Her lips are turned down at the corners, and her eyes are so far off in the distance it takes a moment for her to notice my presence.
She sighs. “I wish this day would’ve never come.”
My nod is solemn.
She glances at the shiny gold watch on her wrist and sighs again. “I guess it’s time, huh?”
I nod again. “Where is he?”
“In her room.”
Ninety percent of Bennett’s last eight days have been spent sitting in Summer’s room.
My best friend isn’t the type of person who wants you hovering over him on a good day, and in his grief, that hasn’t changed.
He doesn’t want words of comfort and sorrys for the injustice of it all. He wants silence. He wants space. He wants to navigate his grief in his own way.
I’ve done my best to channel my efforts to be there for him into other avenues, like stocking his fridge and getting takeout and hanging around on the periphery with a beer in hand, ready to listen. But today, he needs something else.
Today, he needs me to do the heavy lifting where he can’t, to guide him through the motions and hold him upright while we lay his daughter to rest.
I walk down the hallway and stop at the open door of Summer’s room. It’s still filled with all her belongings, organized down to a T. Her favorite pink clothes hang in the closet. Her iPad sits on the nightstand. Her little trinkets and books and bracelets are spread along her dresser. Photos of her and Bennett hang on the walls, and a few pictures she drew are taped above her bed.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’d be wheeling through the door any second, and it’s that thought that lodges emotion the size of a boulder in my throat.
Bennett sits in the chair beside her now-empty bed, and I walk over to him to place my hand on his shoulder. It’s a difficult reminder of being in here with Josie, when we were both saying our goodbyes, and I have to shut my eyes tight for a long moment to keep the tears at bay.
So many memories of Josie and me are tied up in Summer. So many beautiful moments we shared because of that sweet girl. And now, she’s gone. She’s gone, and we’ll never get to hear her laugh or see her smile. We’ll never get to giggle over her excitement or witness her many pink outfits.
We’ll never get her back. And if that isn’t fucking cruelty personified, I don’t know what is.
I squeeze Bennett’s shoulder, and he lifts his head to glance up at me. I don’t say anything because I don’t need to. He knows what today is. He knows what we have to do.
He swipes his hand across his cheeks, removing remnants of tears, and gets to his feet. And I step back to give him space, but I stay there, with him, until he makes the first move to walk out of Summer’s bedroom.
Only then, when he’s ready, do I follow his lead.
Breezy grabs her purse and keys for her rental when she sees Bennett step into the living room, and she walks over to lock her arm with his. Bennett’s eyes stay forward as they head out the front door, and I make sure his door is locked before I jog down the front porch steps.
Though, before Breezy can get in the front seat, I gently take the keys from her hands. “How about you ride in the back with him?” I whisper toward her, and she nods.
Once we’re all in the car and Breezy is sitting in the back seat with Bennett, her hand grasping his, I start the engine and head down his gravel driveway. Toward the main road. Toward the cemetery. Toward the place we’ll say goodbye to Summer forever.
…
Everyone in town has gathered for Summer’s funeral. So many people have shown up to offer their condolences, to say goodbye to Summer, to silently give Bennett the support he probably doesn’t even realize he needs.
I don’t miss the fact that his parents or his brother Logan aren’t here, but I don’t bother asking Breezy any questions. Ben and Logan aren’t on speaking terms, and his parents are too wrapped up in their own lives to do anything but focus on themselves.
Sadly, they’ve never had a relationship with their granddaughter, but I know Ben doesn’t give a fuck about any of it. His only focus for the past seven years has been his daughter. His whole purpose has been her.