“I just ended things with Miller,” I said after she answered.
“Good for you,” she said, as if I’d given her a weather report. “Long overdue.”
“C’mon, Lucy,” I said. “I’m really sad. I’m going to miss him … It’s not like there are many other options around here.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. But, Shea, you totally did the right thing.”
“It still hurts,” I said, thinking that in some ways it hurt more than being dumped because there was no anger to distract me.
“I know. I’m sorry,” she said as I thought of the many times Lucy had soothed me after a breakup over the years.
“Do you want to come over?” she asked me now. “Open a bottle of wine?”
I considered this, but decided sleep was what I needed most. “Thanks, but I’ll probably turn in.”
“Okay. I’m headed home, too. Call me if you need me.”
“Where are you now?” I said.
“At my dad’s. Wow, that sounds so weird.”
“Maybe we should keep calling it your parents’ house. I mean, your mother made it a home. And …” I struggled to find the right words to comfort my best friend. “It will always be hers.”
“Thank you, Shea,” Lucy said. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am right,” I said. “Everyone knows that your mother is irreplaceable.”
Five
About a week later, I agreed to meet Lucy at her parents’ house. My mother was joining us as well, with the plan to go through Connie’s closet, a task I couldn’t possibly dread more.
“Any word from Miller?” Lucy asked as we waited for my mother, late as usual.
“No,” I said, watching her mix up a fresh batch of sweet tea, heaping in the sugar just the way Coach Carr liked it. “Probably easier that way.”
Lucy nodded in agreement as we heard the garage door rumble. “Daddy’s home,” she said.
I instinctively stood up a little straighter, then reached up to fluff my hair.
Lucy narrowed her eyes and gave me a funny look. “Did you just fix your hair?” she said, staring at me.
“No. Of course not,” I said, feeling embarrassed though I wasn’t sure why.
“Okay. ’Cause it looked like you did that thing you do in bars when a hot guy walks in.”
“What thing?”
She imitated me perfectly.
“I didn’t do that,” I said, feeling certain I was telling the truth. Maybe I had fixed my hair—but not in that way.
“Good. Because if you did, that would be really … weird.”
“You’re weird,” I said, reverting to my little-girl self the way I often did around Lucy, and she with me.
A second later the side door opened and Coach appeared in a Walker warm-up and baseball cap. I looked away as Lucy kissed him hello and reminded him why we were over.
“Well, thanks, girls,” Coach said, his voice gruff and gentle at once. “I think it’s time …”
We all stood there for an awkward, sad beat until the doorbell rang and Lucy said, “That must be your mom.” She went to the foyer, leaving Coach and me alone.
He spoke first. “Did you call Smiley?”
“Yes,” I said, relieved that I’d finally placed the call that morning. “And I broke up with Miller, too.”
Coach raised his eyebrows and whistled.
“Impressed?”
“Very,” he said. “How do you feel?”
I hesitated, then said, “Hopeful … Although right now I’m just thinking about Lucy.”
He cleared his throat and poured a glass of tea. “You know, I don’t want to remove all traces of Connie—but I don’t think it’s good to keep a museum either. And, in the end, they’re just things. Stuff. Nice stuff that should be used and enjoyed. Connie would want it that way.”
“Of course,” I said, dropping my gaze to the counter, wondering what was taking Lucy and my mom so long. I hesitated, then worked up the courage to ask, “And how are you?”
He looked surprised by the question, then exhaled and said, “I’m okay. Mornings are tough. That’s when Connie and I always talked the most … The whole thing is just really hard to believe. It’s like …” He shook his head, searching for words. “It’s like an out of the body experience … I’m just ready for the season to start. Football really helps. It’s a distraction. Get busy living, you know?”
“Yes, I know … I’m sorry, Coach,” I said, grief expanding in my chest. “I don’t know if I’ve really said that to you yet … but I am so … sorry.”