My question generated a deep sigh from my mother. “I’ll be okay, honey, don’t you worry about it. The house is paid off and so is my car. I’ve got some money set aside just in case, but I’m not with Roger because of what he can provide, honey. We love each other.”
They had been together, despite all the circumstances, for almost a quarter of a century. Roger supported my mother through all that time. I guess they did love each other. It might not be the love I wanted to experience, but I realized that part of growing up was accepting other people’s versions of happiness.
BO CAME TO PICK ME UP a week later, on Thursday for the memorial service. He’d explained to the professor that there had been a death in his family, resulting in his absences. Bo didn’t explain which family. Professor Godwin adomonished Bo, but since Bo apparently had a good GPA, it would be overlooked. We were cautioned, however, to produce a stellar lab project.
“You look nice.” He kissed me hard. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I said, wishing he’d hold me longer, but he hustled me into the car.
“The funeral was earlier today, and we’re going to the memorial service now,” Bo explained, maneuvering the car to the outskirts of the town until we arrived at an estate. I didn’t have any other name for it. White fences butted up against the road, providing a barrier between the pavement and the rolling pastoral land. We followed the white fencing for at least a couple miles before we came to an archway of trees covering a long drive, the spring buds just sprouting on the ends of the branches. I imagined that when the trees were in full bloom, the canopy of leaves was amazing. Instead, the trees looked almost macabre against the backdrop of the gray sky. Skeletal fingers reached out from one tree to caress its partner across the blacktop divide.
I shivered and Bo reached over to clasp my fingers.
“I don’t know what it’s going to be like inside. Finn told me his mom cheated on his dad with his dad’s brother,” Bo said.
“Erm. That sounds terrible.”
“No lie, so it might be awkward or something.”
“That’s likely an understatement.”
“I’d like to say we won’t stay long but—” He paused.
“You want to be there for Finn?”
He squeezed my hand tight and nodded, a sad smile of appreciation on his face. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to stay outside in the car avoiding this.”
Hiding and avoiding was something I’d perfected. It was no way to live, though, so I just squeezed Bo’s hand back and waited patiently for him to open my car door. If I didn’t, he always look aggravated, and today I didn’t want to be a source of any unnecessary frustration. The house at the end of the drive looked like a farmhouse on steroids. The large, white wood-sided structure had a massive wraparound porch, and people were lounging on the railings, glasses in hand, making it look almost like a party.
Inside, Finn stood stoically next to his mother, greeting each arrival. His angelic beauty looked haunted and empty, from his hollow eyes to the pained smile he attempted when he greeted me. Bo dragged Finn in for a back-beating hug. They clung fiercely to each other for longer than most guys would have. Then it was my turn and Finn’s arms wrapped around me, and I could feel the emotion in his rigid but tight embrace. Like always, I was without the right things to say. I could only murmur, “I’m sorry.” Inadequate words at best.
He thanked us for coming and directed us to the living room, where a number of chairs had been set in groupings. It looked like a tasteful setting from Martha Stewart funerals. All the chairs had been swathed in black and tied with some kind of raffia. A tag in the middle said “In memorium of Matthew O’Malley” in swirling script.
Bo escorted me over to a small group by the front windows, where the crew from the Woodlands sat with a few girls. Noah and his girlfriend. And a blonde so beautiful that people on the other side of the room couldn’t help but looking over at her. She was sitting between Mal and Adam, so I didn’t know which one she was with, or maybe it was neither. A tall, Finn-looking guy stood behind the group, looking out the window.
He wore a white shirt, untucked and unbuttoned at the collar. A loosened tie hung around his neck, the whole effect broadcasting his disheveled despair. I hadn’t ever attended a funeral or memorial service before, and already I knew I hated it.
Bo found me a seat next to Noah’s girlfriend but refused to sit, preferring to press both hands down on the top of my chair with enough force I was afraid it would become permanently embedded into the floor.