There's a deep ache within me, as if my heart's been ripped from my chest, and seeing Carys like this deepens the burning pain.
"Do you think they see us?" she asks.
"Who?"
"Pops, and your parents. Do you think they can see us right now?"
"I don't know."
While I could lie to reassure her, I won't. I'd never lie to her, even though I'd do anything to take her pain away.
"Do you believe in heaven?"
"I'd like to, but I'm not sure it exists. Kind of hard to believe after everything … " My voice fades, unable to finish for fear of losing it.
"Ma does. She tells me Pops is in heaven, looking down on us. She says he'll always watch over us and one day real soon, we'll see him again. Do you believe that?" Hope and longing lace her words.
"I'd like to." I hope it's true.
"Yeah, me too."
Taking her cold hand, I squeeze before bringing her fingers to my lips and gently blowing to warm them.
"I don't know what to do." Her voice is thoughtful, yet anxious.
"What do you mean?"
"Ma hasn't cried. She's being strong, for us. I want to help her, but I don't know how, and Pops … I can't believe it." The tears stream down her cheeks. "I know it's stupid. We buried him. He's dead, but … it doesn't feel like it. It's like he's away or at work."
I nod, clueless as to what to say to comfort her. I'm angry, and I don't understand that either.
///
"How are you?"
"Fine."
"Evan, tell me the truth."
"I guess I don't believe it either. It's been five days, but I still think I'm going to see my mom and dad, and Uncle Adam. I want to see them again."
Her cold palm brushes my cheek with a small, sweet smile for me. Carys is my best friend's little sister, but she's always been more than that to me. I don't have a name for it, and when I try to find one, it frustrates me.
Even with her being three years younger, she's never been annoying or just a girl to me. I don't see her that way. It sounds silly, even to my own ears, but she's always just been mine.
While we're not related, our families are close. Both my father and Carys's came over from Ireland as young boys with their families. They met on the boat and from that point on, we've been like family.
From the day I held Carys as a baby, felt the small bundle of sweetness in my arms, a peacefulness came over me. I felt like I'd always known her. An instant bond, one I never questioned; it's natural, easy, and comforting.
But as I grow, I have these new thoughts and feelings about her. They're confusing, at times strong. She's larger than life, sweet, brave, and caring. Being near her makes things better, easier, more fun.
"We were supposed to go to the ballgame tomorrow." Her father always made it a point to spend time with his children, together and one on one.
"That sucks."
"Yeah, I wanted to go. Pops is the best. He lets me get whatever I want, cotton candy, Coke, you name it, and we don't tell Ma. It's our secret." She smiles almost as big and bright as I'm used to, but then it shrivels and vanishes, likely when she remembers he's gone forever. "I miss him so much." Her voice cracks as a lone tear slips from her eye.
"I know - me too. I miss them all so much." It's difficult to speak with the growing lump in my throat.
"Is it silly that we miss them so much already? Evan, I don't know how to do this."
"Hey, Sweetness, come here."
Wrapping my arms tight around her, I kiss the top of her now-damp head. Though we're close, it's not usually physical like this, but it's not every day that your parent dies. The even weirder thing is, our closeness doesn't make me feel strange or stupid. It feels right … good.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ry, Tripp, and Griff running toward us, all in their suits, like me. Patrick - or as we call him, Tripp - and his younger brother, Griffin Townsend, are part of our close-knit group. Tripp's the same age as Ry and me, and Griff's close to Carys's age.
Ry and I share a look. He's in as much pain as we are, going through a great loss, but protecting his sister is important to him. He'll be strong for Carys and his ma.
Sitting down on the other side of Carys, he pulls on her free hand, and she glances at her brother and willingly slides into his arms. Before fully giving in, she searches my eyes for something. I squeeze her hand to let her know I'm not going anywhere.
"You okay?" Ry asks his sister.
Griff and Tripp gaze down at the three of us seated on the damp grass. With their matching blond hair and blue eyes, it's like looking at two versions of the same person. They're worried, so much so that Griff's biting on his lip and fidgeting from side to side.