Страница 57 из 70
“He’s really gone, isn’t he?” I whispered.
Grief gripped me by the heart.
“Yeah, Aly, he’s really gone.”
TWENTY-ONE
February 3, 2006
Aly crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her face to the cool winter sky. Evening approached. Pinks were strewn across the deepening blue, twilight casting a striking chill in the air. Aly tugged her sweatshirt a little tighter to keep herself warm. After school, she’d gone to Rebecca’s house to hang out, one of her best friends who lived in the next neighborhood over. But she was supposed be home before it got dark.
Her backpack bounced on her shoulders as she hurried. Turning right on the street where her family lived, Aly jogged across the street and up the sidewalk to the front door. She opened it, rushing in, the a
Then she stumbled to a stop.
Her hand shot to the wall for support, and a chill so much different than the one she’d felt outside trickled down her spine like a rush of frigid ice. She shook and crept forward, canting her ear to the sounds coming from her mother in the living room.
She was crying.
No.
Not just crying.
Aly had only heard her mother sound like this once before – the day Aly’s grandma died.
She was weeping.
The cries slithered along the floor, crawled up the walls, pierced Aly’s ears. Fear and panic struck her heart. It pounded hard. She felt along the wall, her back pressed to it and her eyes pinched shut as if it would protect her from whatever had done this to her mother. She stopped at the archway to the living room, holding her breath as she risked peeking inside the room.
Her mom was on the floor, on her knees. Her dad kneeled over her, rubbing her back, trying to calm her. But her mother sobbed toward the floor, completely inconsolable.
“Shh, Karen… I’m right here… I’m right here.”
“Dave… ” She said his name as if maybe he could take away whatever was hurting her.
In some sort of daze, Aly wandered out into the middle of the room and stood there gaping at her mom falling apart. The ball of dread sitting like a rock in her stomach promised her something was very, very wrong.
Her dad caught sight of her. “Aly, sweetheart,” he said, his voice instantly on edge, protective, as if he wanted to shield his daughter from whatever was happening, but was unwilling to leave his wife’s side.
With a short gasp, her mom jerked her head up. “Aly, baby.” She struggled to climb to her feet, though her shoulders stayed slumped and her back bowed.
For two seconds they just stared at each other, and then Karen rushed toward Aly and took her in her arms, lapsing back into tears that she expelled in the crook of Aly’s neck. “Oh my God, my baby… my baby… ”
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Aly begged. Right then, she just needed her mom to tell her that everything was going to be okay, the way she always had done when Aly had been a little girl. In just the assurance of her words, she made everything better.
Karen edged back and took her face in her hands. Her head tilted to the side, her brown eyes so sad.
Aly knew this time whatever her mother was getting ready to say wouldn’t be bringing her any comfort. She shuffled her feet, and that rock in her stomach took it all the way to the floor.
“Baby… there was an accident… Helene… ” She trailed off, seemingly unable to complete the thought, her expression steeped in sorrow.
Aly shook her head, trying to make sense of the stream of turmoil coming from her mother’s mouth.
Karen’s lips quivered. “Helene… she’s gone. Baby, she’s gone.”
“What?” Confusion flooded through Aly’s consciousness. She was unwilling to believe the meaning of her mother’s words. “What do you mean?”
Her mom winced and grimly drew together her lips.
Aly shook her head.
No.
Helene was dead?
“Jared was driving them back from getting his license… they said he pulled out in front of a truck.”
And Aly could feel her mom’s heartbreak, could feel it quivering in her touch. But in that moment, Aly was numb with disbelief. It seemed impossible.
“Is Jared okay?” she finally managed to whisper.
Her mother shrank, her lip blanching as she bit it hard. “They don’t know if he’s going to make it.” The words bled from her mouth, slow and unsure, filled with sympathy, but sharp with grief. “He’s in bad shape, Aly. Neil just called… He’s at the hospital. Your dad and I need to go.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Her dad stepped in. “I want you to stay here with Christopher. He was supposed to spend the night at a friend’s. I just called him and told him what happened. He’s on his way home.”
“No, Dad, I want to come.”
“I think it’s best if you stay here. I’ll call you once we get there to let you know what’s happening.”
“Dad, please.”
He hugged her, smoothing his hand over the back of her head, his tone pleading. “Just stay here, okay, sweetheart? For me? We need to be there to help Neil with Courtney… and Jared… We just don’t know what we’re going to find when we get there.”
He left her standing there, stu
She loved Helene. So much. Family… that’s what she’d been. It didn’t matter that they weren’t related by blood. Helene had been there in every memory that counted.
But it was the thought of Jared being taken from her life that pushed Aly’s back up against the wall, her chest heaving when the grief finally struck.
“No,” she whispered. “Please, no.”
“Today we gather to celebrate the life of Helene Rose Holt.”
A deep, mournful sob broke in the row directly in front of Aly as the minister began to speak. Jared’s father, Neil, sat hunched over as he wept, and Neil’s father placed a hand on his slumped back. The older man’s words were indistinct as he whispered something in his son’s ear. Neil Holt shook harder and wept more.
Aly sucked in a breath, unable to hold back the tears falling from her eyes. Her throat felt so tight and her chest so empty. She’d been crying for days, and she didn’t know if she was ever going to stop.
Beside her, her mother squeezed her hand so tightly it hurt, as if the pain emanating from Neil Holt was her own burden, too.
Aly squeezed her back. None of this felt real to her. How could it be? It seemed impossible that someone could so suddenly be ripped away without warning. It seemed savage and cruel.
A gust of cold air stirred the surface of the ground and rustled through the barren trees. Branches creaked as they bowed, whining, as if they felt the void, too.
In front of her to the right, Courtney blinked down on Aly with her bright blue eyes. Her grandmother held her on her lap, Courtney’s arms wrapped around the old woman’s neck as she peered back at the gathered crowd, the nine-year-old little girl looking more stu
On the other side of Aly, Christopher sat with his elbows on his knees, his face hidden in his hands. Most of the week he’d remained stoic, outwardly unaffected by the horror that had befallen their families. But Aly heard him crying at night, as if he couldn’t hold his own misery in anymore. He just wasn’t capable of showing anyone the way he really felt. Seeing him like that had scared her.
But it was Jared who terrified her.
Aly’s bleary eyes settled on the back of Jared’s head where he sat to the left of his father. He was unmoving. Still as stone.
As if he weren’t really there. His body was, but he wasn’t.
They’d waited to have the funeral until the day after he was discharged from the hospital. He’d been there for nearly a week recovering from broken ribs and a punctured lung. The doctors said he’d been lucky.