Relativity (2 page)

“Dad, we should go,” I say, tugging on the sleeve of his suit jacket. Even though he is still physically standing next to me, he might as well have gotten thrown on top of Mom in the hole. I wonder if this shell of a man who used to be my father will ever laugh again.

We let ourselves be shuffled into someone’s SUV and chauffeured to a church that was good enough to hold the services for Mom even though we weren’t members. Or maybe Dad paid them to do it. I don’t know how that stuff works. The pastor might get tipped after the service for all I know.

When we get to the church, I’m not surprised to see Natalie and her parents rushing around setting out tons of food and making sure everyone is taken care of. Their only day off from their pizza business and they are serving people food, the thought makes me feel terribly guilty. Natalie throws me a wink as I sink down into a plastic chair at an empty table.

I watch people make way for Dad as one of mom’s friends takes him through the food line. He grabs a handful of carrot sticks and dumps them on his plate. I almost laugh out loud because he hates carrots but then I realize how twisted that would look. Mom’s friend ends up taking his plate and filling it for him after he passes several entrees without taking anything. He wanders over to me and plops down, looking twenty years older than he did last week.

“I would love to find out who thought having a party after a funeral was a good idea and punch them right in the mouth,” Dad says.

I cover my mouth to disguise my laughter because I’m ashamed that I could laugh at a time like this, but it’s the first semi normal thing to come out of my father’s mouth since the police officers knocked on our door that rainy night.

“I’m just thankful that we decided to do everything on one day. I don’t think I could have handled two days of this,” I say, after composing myself.

“If one more person tells me they are sorry, I swear, my head is going to explode,” he says.

“They just don’t know what else to say,” I add, feeling guilty because I’m just as annoyed as Dad, but I know everyone is just trying to help.

Mom’s friend places the plate of food she has prepared in front of Dad and hurries off to get me one. Dad stabs a carrot with his fork and sticks it in his mouth before I can remind him that he hates carrots. I watch him, curiously, as he chews it up, swallows it then goes for another.

I know I should just be glad that he is eating something, but it is just another reminder that nothing in our lives will ever be the same again.

******

“You okay?” Natalie asks, pulling up a chair to sit next to me. Dad wandered off a minute ago to try and be social enough to thank people for coming. It feels like a major victory just to see him nodding to people and walking around.

“I’ve been better,” I admit, knowing it is pointless to lie to Natalie.

“We sure as hell didn’t see this coming, did we?” she asks, a tear running down her cheek. Sometimes I forget that Dad and I aren’t the only ones that lost Mom. Natalie has been coming to our house since she was eleven and she was probably closer to my mom than she is her own.

“It doesn’t feel real yet,” I say, knowing that the reality will sink in just as soon as everyday life returns. The last few days have been filled with non-stop decisions to be made and a revolving door of visitors insulating us from simple things like never tasting another one of Mom’s amazing home-cooked meals.

“Tate’s here,” she says, changing the subject, sensing that I’m about to lose it again.

“He is?” I perk up, hating myself a little, but still not being able to stop the butterflies from fluttering around in my stomach.

As if on cue, Tate walks in from the hallway and heads straight for us. I know I look like a total wreck, but there is nothing I can do about it now. I can’t imagine that he expects much at this point anyway considering I passed out in his arms.

“Ripley, do you want to get a coffee?” he asks, hovering uncomfortably at our table.

“Um, sure,” I say, unable to believe that I’m getting asked out at my mother’s funeral.

“You kids have fun,” Natalie teases, kicking me under the table.

I just sit there, not getting it. Surely he doesn’t want to go right this minute with all these people still here. And what in the world would I tell my dad?

“Rip, they’ve got a cafe down the hall,” Natalie says.

“Oh, right,” I say, feeling like a complete idiot. I can’t believe that I thought Tate was asking me out. He was just being polite.

He waits patiently as I struggle to my feet, the weight of the last few days bearing down on me. He sweetly offers me his arm and escorts me out of the room. I sneak a look back at Natalie who throws me a conspiratorial wink.

Tate leads me down the long hallway and out into a grand foyer area with thirty-foot vaulted ceilings. Stained glass windows border the massive oak front doors. Tucked away in a corner is a coffee bar dotted with several small two-seater tables in front of it. It bothers me immensely that I didn’t notice any of this when I came in.

We walk up to the counter and a girl I recognize from school, but can’t remember her name, smiles timidly at me. Obviously, she knows why I’m here.

“I’m so sorry about your mom, Ripley,” she says, wiping a coffee spill off the counter with a wet rag. I smile at her, not able to force another thank you from my lips today.

“What would you like?” Tate asks innocently.

The familiar smell of the coffee roasting hits my nostrils and my head instantly starts to spin. A million memories of pulling through Starbucks with my mom every morning before school for the last two years hit me like a truck. I sway unsteadily on my feet and Tate grabs my shoulders. Is this how my life is going to be now? Every innocent thing that triggers a memory of Mom feeling like a dagger driving through my chest?

Tate and the coffee girl are asking me if I’m okay but their voices sound muffled like they are in a tunnel. It’s too much. I break loose of Tate’s grip and bolt straight for the massive oak doors nearly mowing a few people over in the process. Once the crisp fall air hits my tear-streaked face I start running and don’t stop until I’m sure no one is following me.

I run out of steam pretty quickly and I’m still a mile away from my house. In hindsight, I could have been a little smarter about my nervous breakdown, not to mention the fact that I’ll never be able to look at Tate Boyd again. My phone singsongs and I pull it out and fire back a quick text letting Nat know I’m okay. Not the same okay as I was a week ago, but I guess okay for the moment in this new normal. She texts back telling me that she let Dad know I’m okay. I hadn’t even given a thought to how my disappearing act would affect him.

I just couldn’t stand one more minute in that church with everyone looking at me. I know I’m not technically an orphan, but I’m a half-orphan which makes me feel like people are going to be labeling me the rest of my life. I just want to go back to the only time anyone would stare at me was if I was having a particularly bad hair day.

I hear gravel crunching behind me and realize that a car is slowing down. Could the universe really be so cruel as to let my father lose his wife then his daughter gets kidnapped by some crazed serial killer passing through town? Surely not. The car stops beside me, but I don’t even turn my head. I just keep walking, picking up my pace a little.

The car keeps rolling next to me then I hear a window slide down.

“Ripley’s Believe It or Not?” a familiar voice asks curiously.

I stop cold in my tracks, knowing that there is only one person on the planet that has ever called me that. “Knox?” I answer, turning toward the car. I blink the remaining tears out of my eyes to get a better look inside the car.

The last time I saw Natalie’s brother, Knox, it was the weekend before he left for Navy boot camp, almost four years ago. The clean cut guy behind the steering wheel doesn’t even remotely resemble the Knox I used to know.

“Holy shit, you look different,” I say, laughing. I would never admit it to Natalie but this cleaned up version of her older brother has brightened up my afternoon considerably.

“Different good or different bad?” he asks self-consciously, leaning over to hold open the passenger side door for me to get in.

“Just different,” I lie, hesitating. Then, it hits me that I’ve already worn three blisters on my feet from these damn heels and I can’t walk any further. I slide into the buttery leather seat and immediately slide my shoes off.

“Jesus, Rip. I just bought this car,” Knox teases, waving his hand in front of his face glancing down at my shoeless feet.

“Shut it, Parsons. Just drive,” I command, buckling my seat belt then sinking back into the head rest.

“God, you’re just as bossy as you used to be,” he says but speeds up. “What in the world are you doing out here all alone anyway? I was just on my way to the church.”

I glance over and see that he is wearing an evergreen-colored button-down with khaki-colored cargo pants. Not exactly a three piece suit but definitely dressy for Knox, whose standard outfit used to consist of ripped up jeans and a threadbare Led Zeppelin T-shirt. I run my eyes over him, noticing that the Navy has filled him out quite a bit, his bulging arms straining his shirt sleeves. His closely cropped brown hair looks so much better than the shaggy shoulder-length mop he used to keep.

“It was too intense,” I finally answer. I notice his jaw tense and I hate that I just made the only normal conversation I’ve had in a week turn awkward.

“I’ve got some chilled vodka at home,” Knox offers, brushing off the awkwardness. “Wait, how old are you?” He steals a glance at me, joking.

“I turned eighteen two weeks ago,” I announce proudly, not believing that the surprise birthday party Mom threw for me was just fourteen days ago. I was so happy that night and so clueless about my future. I feel a cloud start to descend over me but I mentally swipe it away. I just want to forget about my mom being in the ground for one night. “Get me drunk, Knox.”

He smiles wickedly and speeds up. I don’t even ask where he is taking me. I’ve known Knox almost my whole life, even though we’ve been out of touch for the last four years, and I know he won’t let anything bad happen to me. I’ll text Natalie later and she can come join us. It’ll be the three of us hanging out, just like old times. Back when shit wasn’t so complicated.

******

A few minutes later, we pull into the driveway of a beautiful brick house I’ve always admired on the opposite side of town as our house.

“What, are you their pool boy or something?” I tease, knowing Knox could never afford a house like this.

“I’m renting out their carriage house, smart ass,” he counters, pulling the car off the main driveway, winding around the back to a quaint-looking two car garage. A set of black iron stairs curls around the side of the garage leading to the loft above. I immediately love it.

“I was just messing with you. This is awesome,” I say, opening my car door and gingerly stepping out, knowing there is no way I’ll get my shoes back on now that I took them off.

Knox gets out and locks his car then leads the way upstairs. I wish I could be as comfortable with Tate as I am with Knox. If I was following Tate up to an apartment where we could be alone, I would probably be breaking out in hives. There is such a comforting familiarity about Knox that I feel safe and grounded for the first time in four days.

“I’m just going to apologize, I didn’t expect to have anyone up here,” he declares, looking embarrassed. Splotches dot his cheeks and I can’t get over how cute it is that he seems genuinely concerned that I might care how his place looks. I follow him up the stairs. He unlocks the door and gestures for me to go ahead of him. I can’t believe this totally hot gentleman used to cut silent farts then rush out of the room leaving Natalie and I gagging.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” I say, stepping past him into the space.

I put my shoes down near the front door as Knox locks the door behind us and places his keys on a hook by the front door. He flips on the lights because the daylight outside is starting to fade. I brace myself, knowing how sloppy Knox used to be and remembering the many times I heard his mom screaming at him to clean up his room. To my surprise, the space is neat and tidy and even smells fresh. He surprises me by pulling my jacket off me and hanging it on another hook. The gesture is so sweet that I can hardly stand it. The Navy really changed Knox.

Not that he needed changing because he has always been a pretty good guy, but now he’s a man. I feel sort of immature in his presence and it really is sweet that he’s taking pity on me.

He gestures to a small loveseat and I plop down, feeling the weight of the last few days start to lift just the tiniest bit. A giant bookshelf in the corner is full of framed pictures and military paraphernalia.

“How about a little Coke with your vodka?” Knox offers, moving over to a small kitchenette and pulling a bottle of vodka from a small freezer area inside his refrigerator.

“More vodka than Coke,” I reply, needing something to take the edge off. I’m not exactly what you would call a binge drinker like some of the kids at school, but I won’t deny the power of alcohol to deaden the senses a bit and I need that tonight.

“You know I’m contributing to a minor, right?” he says, winking at me.

The wink makes my pulse jump, even though I know he only means it in a friendly way. My eyes drift to the giant bed in the corner of the room with its masculine navy and burgundy-striped bedspread. I can’t help but wonder how many girls have been in it so far. Knox was quite the player in high school and he didn’t look nearly as good as he does now. I shake off the weird thought.

“Oh, please, we’ve been drinking together for years,” I tease, reminding him of the time that Nat and I broke into her Dad’s liquor cabinet when Knox was supposed to be keeping an eye on us. The only place he was keeping his eyes were his girlfriend’s chest.