“My offer from before still stands,” I told her, forcing back the tension in my throat as I turned away, tidying up behind the counter once I did. “Everyone can use a friend,” I told her when she didn’t say anything. “And even though I might not be the friend you’d like to take with you, I’m not about to let you go on your own when you could use the company. Heck, I could just drive you over there and sit in the car until you’re done, whatever you like.”
“Could we go during lunch?” she asked hopefully, passing me a small smile as she continued to fidget with the tab on the top of her coffee lid.
I glanced outside and checked the time. With less than an hour to go until lunch, closing up early wouldn’t hurt. “We can go right now,” I told her, walking over to the door so I could lock up.
“Oh no, you don’t have… okay, maybe you do.”
“Getting up the courage to see my dad took me a lot longer than I anticipated,” I told her, turning off the store lights before gathering my things. “If I put it off longer than I did, I probably never would’ve gone.”
“Rip it off like a bandage.”
“Pretty much,” I said, walking with her to the back of the store. I paused just inside the doorway, turning to her before speaking again. “It gets easier,” I promised. “Maybe not today or tomorrow, but it does get easier.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” she asked, her smile from before fading under her worried gaze.
“A little bit of both I guess. I might not visit him that often, but thinking about my dad now is easier than it was before.
Just take it one day at a time. Think of it like those boxes you unpacked. You go through one box at a time, sort through all of the memories, then keep the ones you want most.”
“Like your dad’s shop.”
“It’s full of memories,” I admitted, waving my hand at the space around us, “and while my sister still doesn’t like me keeping it around, those memories are what comfort me the most.”
Cassidy took a steadying breath, then faced the door, steeling herself for whatever was to come. “Let’s go.”
The Belview Cemetery was on the far side of town and one of the only ones around. It’d been ages since I’d gone and I couldn’t imagine how long it had been for my sister. We honestly didn’t talk about it so I never thought to ask.
Looking at Cassidy with her hands held tightly in her lap, I had a feeling she’d be much of the same. Then again, she was probably nervous for a completely different reason.
“It should be quiet seeing as it’s the middle of the week,” I said, resisting the urge to tap my fingers on the steering wheel to release some of the nerves that had managed to bunch in my stomach.
She nodded and watched out her window, her reflection a mix of confusion and concern. Her eyes were focused on something I couldn’t see, and when she took a deep breath, I couldn’t help doing the same.
“It’ll be fine,” I assured her. “And if you want, we can do a slow drive-by. Whatever makes you happy.” It was probably silly for two adults to be so unsett
led in a cemetery, but I never believed in visiting a resting place in order to be closer to the ones I lost. Even so, if she wanted to stay and needed the company, I’d stay for as long as she needed me to.
She looked at me and chewed her bottom lip, digging under her fingernail when she couldn’t come up with something to say.
“Do you know where it is?” I hedged, slowing the car as we pulled into the driveway leading all around the cemetery.
She cleared her throat, then pointed down the way. “It should be all the way at the end. I wasn’t picky so long as they buried her under the shade of a tree.”
I smiled at that and kept driving, gripping the steering wheel when we passed by the row my father was in. I really wasn’t a fan of cemeteries and it wasn’t because of their purpose, either. They’d always unsettled me even as a kid. My sister, on the other hand, loved them in her teens because that’s about the only thing she ever took pictures of. Beautiful black and white pictures.
“There,” Cassidy said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Oh, it’s rather small.” She frowned at the short tree the groundskeepers planted next to it.
“It’ll grow,” I offered, parking the car off to the side of the row before cutting the engine.
She made a sound of approval, removed her seatbelt, and then… nothing. She simply sat there and stared at her mother’s gravestone. It was a lovely red granite with a rose engraved above her name. The details were ones I’d expect. Loving mother and friend. That’s all it said, and in the end, it didn’t need more than that.
“I can go with you,” I said, reaching to unbuckle my seatbelt.
“No,” she said, placing her hand on mine which was a lot colder than her own. “I can see her from here.”
Glancing around the cemetery, there wasn’t a soul in sight.
So if she really wanted to get out, she could do so without anyone recognizing her.