Never Let Go (Take My Hand) (21 page)

Emily

Today
is the day of
Chris’ funeral. It took just a few days to arrange and somehow I did it while
remaining calm, focused and organised – when in the funeral parlour at
least. Other times, whether I’m alone or not, an image of Chris will pop into
my mind and it literally crushes me. The pain feels like an actual explosion
deep in my chest, stealing my breath away and forcing me to double over as I
cry.

There’s been a
permanent bubble of tears resting behind my eyes and every so often one will
escape, trailing miserably down my cheek. But eventually the pressure gets too
intense – my eyes start to sting and my chest starts to hurt, and then
the dams burst and the whole lot come pouring down my face.

Dare I say my
dad’s been amazing? He footed the expenses of the funeral which to be honest I
kind of expected, but he’s also been round every single day, phoned several
times a day, and hasn’t gone home once without hugging me close and kissing the
top of my head. At first I silently resented it. Why couldn’t he have acted
this way when Livvie died? I was a child then, practically still a baby –
that
was when I needed cuddles and
love. I’m an adult now, I can cope without him. He’s not the centre of my
universe anymore, yet when he was… he let me down.

As the days
passed however I realised I didn’t have the space in my heart for negative
feelings. I’d already agreed to leave the past where it was and give him a
chance to make a fresh start with me. Yet there I was doing the exact opposite
– living in the past, in the mind of my five year old self. My dad’s
grief over Livvie ruined his life for so many years – he retreated into a
shell, blocking everyone and everything else out. He lived alone with his pain
for fourteen years – fourteen years of a life nobody knows how long is
going to last. I’m not prepared to do that. I’m not willing to waste a single
day of this life I’m so lucky to have. I am going to live each day to the
fullest – live each day for my brother.

It was only when
I realised that, I found myself appreciating his efforts. I let him hold me, I
let him soothe me, and then I ended up holding him right back. I took some of
his pain and he took some of mine, and for the few minutes I was in his arms,
the ache in my chest was bearable.

About an hour
before the hearse and processional cars were due to arrive I heard a fuss going
on downstairs while I was putting the final clips in my hair. It didn’t take
long before I heard the holler of Rachel’s giant gob and just the sound of her
voice made me smile.

When I got home
from hospital I encouraged Rachel to tell me the events as she saw them that
night. I knew she didn’t want to, no doubt assuming the details would hurt me,
but if anything I found them comforting. The poor girl had no choice but to sit
back and watch while it happened, and in some bizarre way I felt better knowing
I was knocked unconscious. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to see
your best friends in so much danger while being stuck in a body that refuses to
move you closer to them.

I made my way
down the stairs and immediately felt a dozen set of eyes land on me. We were
all here – Dex and I, my dad and Sarah, and now Rachel and Jared, along
with some friends of Chris’ I’d never met, Ernie and his wife and a few randoms
who I seriously had no clue who they were. Rachel was the first to approach me
and I eyed up her ‘funeral outfit’ curiously. She was wearing a black hoody and
leggings, looking altogether better suited for an afternoon robbing from
grandmas than attending a funeral.

“This is the only
black thing I had!”

“I offered to
take her shopping,” Jared butted in, shrugging and holding his hands up like he
refused to take the blame.

“But I don’t wear
black, so it just seems like a waste of money for one day. Plus I’m not
planning on staying the size of a beached whale for much longer, so it wouldn’t
even fit me in a few weeks. Chris wouldn’t care what I’m wearing. He’d just be
glad I’ve shown up when I have so many more, less depressing things I could be
doing. Like smearing cream on my piles.”

Only Rachel can
get away with saying stuff like that. She always has. There’s something in the
crafty wink, or the teasing smile she gives you that makes being mad with her
an impossibility. She has the ability to take such a serious, heavy and
consuming situation, and make it lighter – brighter. And she was right of
course, Chris wouldn’t have cared if she’d come dressed in a bin bag. In fact,
if he could see her now he would probably be laughing at her, and cheering her
on for being the only one here without a miserable face.

I had a feeling
the next hour was going to drag painfully slowly, so I left everyone chatting
in the living room and headed to the kitchen to wipe down the sides that were
already clean. I was just wiping over the windowsill when I felt Dexter’s arms
snake around me from behind. I knew they were his – no one else has the
power to make my knees wobbly like he does.

“Would it be
inappropriate to tell you how fucking sexy you look in that outfit?” he
whispered in my ear. Smiling, I looked down at my black pencil skirt and fitted
white blouse, then I turned around in his arms to face him.

“Maybe,” I said.
“But I guess that would also make it inappropriate for me to say I’ve
fantasised about peeling that suit off you about fifteen times this morning.”

“Oh yeah?” He
raised one eyebrow, and then adjusted his black tie – teasing the silk
between his fingers and grinning at me suggestively.

Blushing a
little, I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed him. Winding my fingers into the
back of his hair, I pulled him closer to me, fixing my lips firmly to his, as
if he would disappear if I let him go.

“Well that’s one
way of mourning I suppose.” Our lips snapped apart and I saw Rachel sitting in
the doorway with a huge grin on her face. “Though I’d suggest not fucking each
other by the graveside. I mean, obviously I’m cool with that shit but some
people might find it disrespectful – you know the boring people.”

“We weren’t fu-doing
that!
” I protested. Rachel
winked at me and my embarrassment instantly faded.

“I’m thirsty, ho.
You’re not looking after your guests very well,” she said, wheeling past me
towards the fridge and plucking out a bottle of fresh orange juice. “Besides,
being in that room is depressing the fuck out of me. You know how much I loved
Chris, and of course it fucking kills me that he’s not here right now… but I can’t
help thinking he’d be rolling his eyes if he could see those guys in there.
They’re all whispering to each other like it’s suddenly a sin to talk out loud.
They’re all nodding and moving slower than a fucking snail, as if somehow that
means Chris meant more to them. And I swear there’s some chick in there that
keeps dabbing her eyes with a tissue even though there’s
nothing
there. There’s no way she’d risk crying and screwing up her
mascara. I don’t get it. I’m sure being a miserable bastard wasn’t why Chris
chose them as friends.”

There she went
again. Saying it like it is. And I love her for it.

“You left me on
my own in there!” Jared scolded with a whisper as he seemed to appear from
nowhere in the doorway. “You said you were just fetching a drink!”

“I hardly left
the country, Jaz. I’m only in the kitchen.”

“I know but…
people are…
sad
.” He said the word
like it was a disease he couldn’t pronounce. I swear these two always manage to
make me happy, no matter what’s going on around me. “I don’t know how to deal
with sad people! It was hard enough when Jess’ kitten died when we were kids!”

“Yeah, Jaz…
‘cause that’s
just
the same. Kitten
– human. Pet – brother…” she went on, using her hands as if she
were literally weighing up the importance of each option.

“You know what I
mean,” he grumbled.

“Well you guys
are welcome to stay in here and hide from the doom and gloom,” Dexter began.
“But I need to take Emily upstairs for something.”

“Mate, she’s
burying her brother in an hour,” Jared said disapprovingly, scrunching his nose
a little.

“Not for that,
dipshit,” Dexter retorted, swiping Jared’s shoulder with a dishcloth from the
counter. “Come on, doll,” he added, holding out his hand. “I need to show you
something.”

I didn’t ask
what, even though it was all I could think about as he led me up the stairs and
to our bedroom. I sat anxiously on the edge of the bed, watching curiously as
Dexter fumbled through the chest of drawers. He pulled out a white envelope and
looked at it mournfully for a few seconds before handing it over to me. When I
took it, he clamped his hand over mine, preventing me digging straight in.

“Chris gave me
this a few weeks ago. He said I’m to give it to you on the morning of his
funeral.”

“W-what is it?” I
stuttered nervously.

“I don’t know,
doll. It was sealed and I wouldn’t betray his trust or yours by thinking it’s
any of my business. Now, do you want me to stay, or leave you alone while you
open it?”

“Um… stay,” was
all I could choke out as I patted the space beside me on the mattress.
Following my cue, Dexter sank down next to me, giving me a little space while I
stuck my finger under the small gap in the paper, and hesitantly tore the
letter free from the envelope. Taking a gulp of air, I looked down at Chris’
handwriting and started to read…

Emmie,

If Dexter’s done as he was told you’re probably
getting ready to bury me right now. But hey, you better not be crying, squirt!
Well not too much anyway. If I look down on you and don’t see a single tear
I’ll be kind of offended ;-)

I’m writing this now while I’ve still got my marbles,
because who knows when or if they’ll disappear on me. I just wanted to thank
you for being an amazing sister. You’ve always been more than family to me,
Emmie. Despite our age gap I’ve always thought of you as one of my best
friends. You’ve always seen the best in me, loved me and supported me even when
I behaved like an arse. And it’s not just me – I see you do the same for
everyone, because that’s just who you are.

You’ve grown into such a strong and compassionate
woman and I’m so bloody proud of you. It gutted me when I found out how
miserable you’d been growing up, yet it also amazed me that despite that, you
still hold the power to love and care so deeply.

Now for Dex. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to
see you settled before I go. You’re still so young, so technically it should’ve
been more likely for me to have to leave you alone. But I’m not. I’m leaving you
in the hands of someone I know loves you just as much as I do. I know he will
take care of you and protect you, maybe even better than I ever could. When I
first found out what was going on in the states I had never wanted to choke the
life out of another human being so badly. But at that point I already knew my
time was running out – I HAD to give him a chance to prove himself. I
couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see you happy, no matter how slim I
believed that chance to be at the time.

But Dexter has exceeded all my expectations. He sorted
himself out, for you as much as himself. He’s continued to prove himself every
single day. The way I catch him looking at you is all I need to know he loves
you more than his own life. He’s worked so damn hard, not just at the garage
but at living. Despite the relatively short time I’ve known him, I consider him
not only my best friend, but my brother. I feel safe in the knowledge he will
love you like you deserve, Emmie, and so I’m no longer afraid to leave you.
You’re not alone, and you will never know how much easier that thought makes
this situation.

The same goes for Rachel. You two couldn’t be more
different yet I’ve always looked at her as my little sister too. Obviously I
don’t know Jared as well as Dex, but he has that same look in his eye when he
looks at Rachel, and that’s enough for me. You two are so lucky you know… Love
doesn’t bless that many of us, not ‘real’ love, not the kind you two have
found. Never let go of that, Emmie. Never take it for granted. But hey, enough
depressing shit.

I still can’t believe Rachel is going to be a mum. I swear
that’s the thing I’m most gutted about, that I won’t get to watch her raise
those kids. I have no doubt it will be an interesting and, let’s face it,
hilarious journey to witness. She and Jared will make the most amazing yet
unconventional parents. You have fun on my behalf watching them try to handle
that shit, okay? And don’t forget to tell those kids about how awesome their
uncle Chris was too ;-)

Even Dad has found someone to look out for him. Fast
worker, I’ll give him that. But Dexter’s aunt is a great woman, possibly too
good for Dad so he better not hurt her. Having said that, I need you to know
that I’ve forgiven him absolutely, and I hope you can too. I’ve had some pretty
deep conversations with him lately. He’s been lost for so long, Emmie. It
doesn’t excuse all the shit decisions he’s made over the years, but it kind of
makes me understand them at least. Give him a chance – just one mind you.
But… I really don’t think he’ll let you down again. If he does, I will haunt
the bastard into an early grave.