My car was still sitting in the lot outside of the club from last night, so I took a deep breath and started my trek to get it back. I decided to take a cab most of the way, but when we were close to the street I had the driver drop my off so that I could walk the last mile. It was a pretty morning in Dallas. The summer sun had just barely risen, so it wasn’t scorching hot yet. I desperately needed a change of clothes and a shower. The awkward glances from fellow pedestrians told me how crazy I probably looked with my slept on curls and make-up.
In an effort to avoid any more judging stares, I pulled my phone out of my purse and checked the missed text I’d spied earlier. It was from Beck, sent right after midnight.
Beck : I’m really sorry about Caroline, but don’t give up on humanity just yet.
I didn’t have much longer before I reached my car, but I still hit ‘call’. The phone rang and rang. I walked a city block and he still hadn’t answered. Before I could think of hanging up, the call dropped to voicemail and Beck’s gravelly voice filled my ears.
“ Hey, this is Beck. Leave a message.”
Short and sweet, but it felt good to hear his voice. I didn’t leave a message. Calling him had given me an idea, and when I reached my car and was in the security of my own space, I dialed Caroline’s number.
It rang, filling the silence of my car, and I wondered if maybe her parents would pick up. Did they have her phone? What happened to a person’s phone when they died? Someone had to be charging it.
Then the voicemail clicked on and my heart dropped when I heard her voice.
“ Hi! This is Caroline. I’m sorry I missed your call. Feel free to leave a message.” I sat paralyzed for a second, but then the electronic beep went off and I started to talk to her as if she would pick up any moment.
“ Caroline, it’s Abby,” I broke down, letting my head fall forward onto the steering wheel. “I miss you so much. I can’t believe you’re gone…I broke my urn in the desert when I found out you lied to me. Why’d you lie to me Caroline? Or were you hoping for the best?” I paused as a sobbing hiccup hijacked my vocal cords. “You just left me. I went on a road trip and you didn’t stop me…You should have stopped me! I would have been there in a second. You’re my best friend, what am I supposed to do without you?” I paused and ran my finger along the worn leather. “I have so much to fill you in on…”
So I sat in my car, leaving her voicemail after voicemail until the tears overpowered my vocal cords.
I had to sit in that car for an hour before my eyes cleared enough so that I could see the road on my drive home.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I was the last person to speak at Caroline’s funeral. I’d tried my best to stay composed as her parents and family recalled stories and anecdotes about her life, but it was a losing battle. I bent down to light the Donut Shop candle that was meant to smell like coffee and then stepped behind the podium. My heels sank into the soft grass as I shuffled back and forth, eying the note cards in my hands and willing my voice into submission. When I finally looked up, the sun was shining through one of the trees overhead so that I had to squint to keep my eyes from watering.
“ My name is Abby Mae McAllister,” I began, and the microphone rang out a high pitched noise causing everyone to groan and cover their ears. I cleared my throat awkwardly and shifted a few inches away before trying again. “Um… I never knew Caroline when she was healthy. We met when we were both sick and staying in the hospital for treatment. She was wearing this pink bow headband the first time I met her…” I held my hand over my head to show them how high the bow had been. “We met in a group for sick teens that I had planned on skipping. My mother eventually talked me into going, but I wasn’t in a socializing mood. I remember sitting on a metal chair moping when Caroline plopped down in the seat next to me. This was a support group for kids in the hospital, mind you, so it wasn’t surprising that most of the people there had a gloom and doom attitude. But, not Caroline. She wouldn’t stop talking. She yammered on forever and eventually I had to cave and answer her for fear that she would never stop.”
“ She was an in-your-face type of person. She weaseled her way into my life and took root until one day I woke up and couldn’t go a single day without talking to her. We bonded over everything: boys, books, annoying nurses.” I half-smiled toward the nurses who’d come from the hospital. “We talked about our funerals as most sick kids do. It takes the edge off. As if by talking about death, suddenly it no longer holds power over you.” I cleared my throat and shuffled behind the podium, pleading with my tears to stay in the corner of my eyes.