My Heart for Yours (18 page)

I lean onto the podium and sigh. The entire church is full. Each seat occupied with some dark dress or suit, and several people standing against the back wall. I clear my throat. I’ve never liked talking in front of people, and with Eamon’s flower-draped casket next to me, I like it even less. My nerves are so shot that I can’t even make out people’s faces. I guess that makes the fact that I have no clue what I’m going to say a little easier. I open my mouth, and then shut it again, reasoning that no one here cares that Eamon’s favorite food was rice pudding, or that he could drink any person here under the table.

I stare into the rows of people one last time, and that’s when I see her. In a sea of faceless blurs, Delia is there. She nods at me encouragingly. She believes in me. That simple nod brings the words up through my throat.

“
When I was seven and Eamon was ten, we decided we wanted to run away and live out in the woods. I don’t really remember why we thought to do that. Mom and Dad weren’t so bad, so it wasn’t anything like that.” I let out a small, stiff laugh and a few others in the church follow suit.

“
We got a big backpack and stockpiled bottles of water and food for weeks. We’d take little things here and there so that Mom and Dad wouldn’t notice. We must have had four gallons of water in that damn—err, darn pack.” I don’t exactly know where to go with this story, but for whatever reason, of all of the ridiculous stunts Eamon and I pulled over the years, this was the first one to pop into my head. I wipe my sweaty palms on my slacks and start again. “We waited until Mom and Dad had both left for work and then ran into the woods. We set up a makeshift camp. We pitched our small tent, started a little fire and spent the day wandering the banks of the creek. I decided to climb some trees and somehow, I lost sight of Eamon along the creek. It got dark shortly after and I knew that I needed to get back to our camp. I didn’t have any water, or a jacket or anything. It didn’t take me long to realize that I was lost. I don’t know how long I walked in circles before Eamon found me.

“
I knew he was going to be mad. He had told me to stay right by him. I heard him running up behind me, yelling my name and I thought for sure he was going to give me a beating, but instead, he hugged me. I know kids, especially boys don’t do that, but Eamon did. He never had any trouble letting people know how he really felt. I asked him why he came looking for me, why he didn’t just go and get Mom and Dad. He told me,
“Because I’m your brother. Brothers don’t leave each other wandering around in the dark alone, Tobin
.”

I finally blink and break Delia’s stare.

“
And you know what? He proved that to me over and over again. He was always there for me. He was there for all of us. It might never have been his official job to protect me, or any of us, but it was one he never slacked on, and I was proud to be his brother.

“
He taught me important things, like how to build the best possible fort in the attic, using every blanket and sheet in the house. He taught me how to clean a gun, how to change the oil in the car, and more importantly, how to take care of the people that you love.

“
When he got older, he was the definition of work hard, play hard. He’d go out with you boys and cause all sorts of mayhem,” I said, pointing at Traive, Nelson and Eamon’s other group of friends. They all nodded and smiled.

“
He’d play as hard as he could, filling his nights with laughter and good friends. And after three hours of sleep, he’d leave you all sprawled out, and go to work, or help my parents around the house.

“
A few years ago, when Dad got hurt at work, Eamon didn’t give it a second thought that he’d pick up some extra shifts to help out. It was just never a question. That’s what you did for family.

“
And last year, when I had my first lesson in having my heart trampled on.” I don’t dare look up and see Delia’s reaction. “He was there. He was there when I didn’t know what to do, how to get out of bed in the morning and move on, or how to make sense of any of it.

He was
always
there.

“
I’ve never had anyone this close to me die before.” The tightness in my throat is growing, burning. “The last few days have been really freaking hard. Really dark and confusing and lonely for me. I don’t know how to process all that’s happened, how to accept that Eamon isn’t going to pop into my room in the morning with some new scheme that he wants me in on. Losing him has really made me take stock in my life, to take measure of who I am, and who I want to become. I haven’t figured all of those things out just yet, but I know that I’m not alone while I do. I know that Eamon is right here alongside me. Because brothers don’t let each other wander in the dark alone.”

I lower my eyes to the emerald green carpet and make my way back to my seat.

It’s over.

Eighteen
Delia

My heart aches, breaks, and then does it all over again. Like there is a fault line right down the center. A fracture that can’t be healed. Because of Tobin. Because of Eamon. Because of everything and everyone that was lost. I wish I had some power to make Tobin feel better instead of worse. Thank God that Tobin had Eamon when we split.
Got his heart trampled on.
Sounds about right. Both of us. I never would have thought that either of us would have it in us to let each other go the way we did.

Part of me wants to be mad at Tobin. Mad at him for bringing me into this, but most of me just breaks. The church is filled with quiet, polite conversation. I’m still stunned into silence.

“
Delia?” Weston whispers behind me.

Regret claws at my chest for a million things. For letting Weston come here with me. For letting Tobin go the way I did, because there’s no fixing us now. That Eamon died, even though I couldn’t have prevented that.

I glance around at the people I grew up with. The people who spread any news through town like their life depended on it. I smile as I wonder how many people discussed my coffee at the diner with Tobin and wonder who will challenge me next at shuffleboard bowling.

Weston’s finger touches my cheek. “You’re smiling and all teary. You okay?”

It takes everything in me not to jerk away from him. Something different starts to pour through me as I scan Weston’s face. Nothing but concern on his features, in his eyes. I can’t keep doing this, being with Weston, but I don’t know how to stop. The thing is—I don’t know how much comfort I get from him touching me anymore, and that’s not a good sign. Or maybe it’s just the day and the surroundings.

“
Come on,” Dad says in his hushed whisper as his arms come around our shoulders, his political smile attached firmly in place. “Let’s give our condolences so we can get out of here. I made reservations at the club tonight, and I’d like to go home and shower funeral off me before we go.”

My jaw clenches at Dad’s callousness. I glance back and Mom who also has her political face on. Hair perfectly smoothed, shaking hands, giving hugs, but I know her well enough to see that she’s only half here. She’s just had a lot more practice pretending than I have.

I’m numb.

I can’t take it anymore—Dad’s callousness, Mom’s fakeness, and Weston’s sweetness. I head for Tobin.

Unfortunately, a lot of people have gathered around the family.

“
Wait, Delia.” Weston’s right behind me, but I’m not walking up to Tobin with Weston’s arm on me.

I slide my way through until I’m face to face with him. Messy blond hair. Blue eyes. Everything I thought I’d look at forever, but now he’s tired, weary. Grief is this black mask painted over him.

I don’t want for Tobin to hold out his hand this time for a shake, and it doesn’t matter that Weston is here with me. I slam into his chest as I put my arms around Tobin and hold on like he’s the only thing that could keep me on the earth. His arms come around me, low on my waist like always. Strong, like always. Protective, like always. I don’t have to open my eyes to know his face is tilted down—I can feel his breath on my shoulder. His eyes are probably closed, and he’s holding me every bit as tightly as I’m holding him.

I wonder if I can transfer my feelings through this hug. If somehow, he’ll know how much I’m aching to be the one to comfort him.

We both breathe in at the same time. I don’t know if we’re breathing one another in, or if we’re both trying not to cry.

“
It was amazing, what you said,” I whisper. “I love you.”

Wait. Where did that come from? No. Wait. It’s okay. Friends say I love you. I do love him. He’s my youth, my growing up, how could I not?

I back away, but our eyes are now locked, so I only make it back a step. And then Weston’s hand comes out to shake Tobin’s. Seeing them touch brings a wave of nausea over me. Tobin’s eyes only leave mine briefly to connect with Weston’s, then come straight back to me.

Not only does Tobin hate me for good reason, I still think there’s too much between us, but we might salvage something like friends.

Weston lightly rests his hand on my lower back as we walk away. I hate that I’m walking away with Weston’s hand on me. I wish I could stand next to Tobin, his broken mother, and his father who’s withering away to nothing.

It wasn’t that long ago that I was considered part of his family. It wasn’t that long ago that Tobin and I could have had our
own
family.

Instead I take a last look over my shoulder to see blue eyes staring back at me.

I’m wiped. I’m exhausted from Tobin, Weston, and the services. Everything. I’m still in my black dress, lounging on one of the chairs on the screened porch. Dad’s upstairs washing “funeral” off of him, and I’m supposed to put on a happy face for our late dinner at the club. I hate those people.

Weston steps into the room and takes the lounge chair next to mine, but he doesn’t lounge. He sits. Elbows on knees.

“
I’m so stupid.” Weston sighs.

“
What are you talking about?” I shift my head to see him better.

“
You and Tobin.” He shakes his head. “Your dad told me everything, you know, earlier today, and I didn’t care.”

I’m not sure what to say. I’m shocked Dad told
anyone
. I’m like his big, dirty secret.

“
You shouldn’t have cared. It’s all history.”

“
Some people would care that you’d been so
involved
with someone.” His eyes widen, just a little.

“
What? Having sex? Lots of people have sex before they’re married, Weston
.”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this, but my heart’s pounding because I’m probably not hiding how Tobin affects me very well.

“
I thought I could marry you.” His body shifts on his chair to face me.

“
What?” Mom’s words from that morning echo back to me.
He’s talked with your father.

“
I mean, I wasn’t sure, of course. But yeah. I’ve thought about it a lot.” He slides his fingers together and stares at his hands for a moment.