Ashes to Ashes
Page 35
There’s music playing somewhere.
This does not mean
I don’t love you
I do, that’s forever
I wipe a tear from my eye. The song is “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” My mom said those lines to me over and over near the end of her life. I think the thing she feared most about dying was that she wouldn’t be able to love us once she was gone. The song gave her comfort.
Oh my God. This is her funeral.
I snap my head around, fast. I don’t want to see her like this. I don’t want to see my mother’s dead body.
Mrs. Tabatsky steps forward and takes my father’s hand. She’s crying. “Oh, Patrick. I’m so sorry.” Reeve leans against her. The other Tabatsky boys, along with Reeve’s dad, stand silently behind them in their suits.
I realize I haven’t seen much of Reeve since summer ended and he transferred to the Montessori on the mainland for seventh grade. Before he left, I teased him about going to a fancy school full of nerds and how he was going to turn into a huge geek. He acted all cocky and told me that when he was a millionaire, maybe I’d be lucky enough to fix his Lamborghini. Reeve was always fun to fight with, because he had comebacks as good as mine, and the two of us could rag on each other for hours.
He doesn’t make eye contact with me. He keeps his eyes down on his church shoes.
Wait a minute. Is this a memory? Or am I dreaming?
“It’s a dream,” Rennie confirms. She comes up beside me with a glass of water. “Isn’t this dress the cutest?” she says, and does a spin. It’s bright pink, sleeveless and short. “This was the one I wanted to wear to your mom’s funeral, but you wouldn’t let me.”
I remember.
Earlier that morning Rennie called to see if she absolutely had to wear black. She had something else in mind. I got so mad and said, Of course you do, stupid, and I hung up.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you, but come on, Ren. Who wears hot pink to a funeral?” I ask her, laughing.
Rennie starts laughing too. “Okay, fine. But your mom told me I looked pretty in this dress once, so I was going to wear it as a tribute to her.”
“After I hung up on you, I worried that you might not show up,” I say. “But you did. You and your mom were the first people here, and you stayed with me the whole day. I remember you always made sure you were blocking my view of the casket, because I didn’t want to look. I couldn’t handle seeing her corpse, painted in makeup she would never have worn, surrounded by that ugly silk liner in the coffin. Judy wasn’t silk. She was blue jeans.” I start to cry.
Rennie smiles tenderly and pulls me into a tight hug. “Of course I’d show up, dummy. I was your best friend.”
Rennie was a good friend, mostly. And she was there for me when it really counted. “I’m glad we made up before you died,” I tell her, hugging her back.
She groans, “Ugh. I freaking hate that girl.”
As soon as I let go, Rennie disappears. “Wait! Ren!”
I turn and see that the next person in line is Mary. “Why are you crying?” she asks in a very curt voice. “Rennie made your life miserable, remember? You said you hated her. You said you were happy that she was going to finally get what she deserves.”
“I—I know that. But we made up.” I wipe my eyes. “And she didn’t deserve to die.”
Mary rolls her eyes. “You’re such a traitor, you know that? You wanted this! Don’t you remember our pact? You’re a terrible friend who breaks promises, and you’re a liar. I’m glad your mom gets to see who you turned out to be.”
It kills me to hear her say that. “Mary, wait. Come on, let me explain.” But she suddenly starts pushing me toward the casket. “No! I don’t want to look! Don’t make me look!”
But Mary is so freaking strong. And my shoes slip along the floor. I squint my eyes tight, because I can’t fight her off. I feel myself hit the casket, the edge of it smacking into my stomach.
“Open your eyes!” she screams.
“No! Please!”
Her fingers peel apart my eyelids. “Look at what you’ve done!”
I’m hysterical.
And then, suddenly . . . nothing.
“Kat, sweetie, it’s okay.”
I open my eyes, and there’s my mother by my side. She looks like she did before she got sick. Healthy. And so beautiful.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” I say, clinging to my mom.
“She’s lost, Kat. And that makes her dangerous.”
* * *
I wake up in the den, sprawled out on the couch. Dad and Pat are standing over me with the weirdest expressions on their faces. Even Shep is there, barking like mad and panting his hot breath in my face.
“What?” I say, and wipe the drool off my cheek.
“That must have been some dream, daughter.” Dad says. “You were thrashing.”
It was a crazy-ass dream, and I know it ain’t going to be in my dream dictionary. But as crazy as it was, I’m not happy to be awake. I wish I was still asleep with my mom next to me.
* * *
On my way to class the next day, Alex casually drops a paper hat onto the top of my head as he walks by.
It doesn’t even occur to me that it’s a note until I pull it off my head at the insistence of Mrs. Hetzel. That’s when I see Alex’s handwriting on the underside. I peel back the folds and find an invitation to join him and his friends on a boat trip for spring break. As part of his graduation present, Alex’s uncle Tim hired a crew to sail his boat around and basically attend to our every whim. Alex can invite whoever he wants.
I find him practicing his guitar in the chorus room during his free period. Right away he grins at me and is like, “Are you in?”
“Maybe.”
He’s surprised. “Why not?”
“First off, I said maybe! Are Lil and Reeve coming?” Alex looks away. “Did you even invite them?” When he doesn’t answer, I flick his ear, hard. “You invite all their other friends but not them? Oh my God, you know what, Al? This vindictive thing you’re doing”—I wave my finger in a circle—“is not a good look on you. I get it. Reeve stole your dream girl and Lil picked another guy. But also, BFD. Don’t hold on to this shit and let it turn you into something you’re not.”
He sighs. It probably is exhausting for Alex to keep up this level of anger. It’s not in his nature. “Do you want to come or not?”
This does not mean
I don’t love you
I do, that’s forever
I wipe a tear from my eye. The song is “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.” My mom said those lines to me over and over near the end of her life. I think the thing she feared most about dying was that she wouldn’t be able to love us once she was gone. The song gave her comfort.
Oh my God. This is her funeral.
I snap my head around, fast. I don’t want to see her like this. I don’t want to see my mother’s dead body.
Mrs. Tabatsky steps forward and takes my father’s hand. She’s crying. “Oh, Patrick. I’m so sorry.” Reeve leans against her. The other Tabatsky boys, along with Reeve’s dad, stand silently behind them in their suits.
I realize I haven’t seen much of Reeve since summer ended and he transferred to the Montessori on the mainland for seventh grade. Before he left, I teased him about going to a fancy school full of nerds and how he was going to turn into a huge geek. He acted all cocky and told me that when he was a millionaire, maybe I’d be lucky enough to fix his Lamborghini. Reeve was always fun to fight with, because he had comebacks as good as mine, and the two of us could rag on each other for hours.
He doesn’t make eye contact with me. He keeps his eyes down on his church shoes.
Wait a minute. Is this a memory? Or am I dreaming?
“It’s a dream,” Rennie confirms. She comes up beside me with a glass of water. “Isn’t this dress the cutest?” she says, and does a spin. It’s bright pink, sleeveless and short. “This was the one I wanted to wear to your mom’s funeral, but you wouldn’t let me.”
I remember.
Earlier that morning Rennie called to see if she absolutely had to wear black. She had something else in mind. I got so mad and said, Of course you do, stupid, and I hung up.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you, but come on, Ren. Who wears hot pink to a funeral?” I ask her, laughing.
Rennie starts laughing too. “Okay, fine. But your mom told me I looked pretty in this dress once, so I was going to wear it as a tribute to her.”
“After I hung up on you, I worried that you might not show up,” I say. “But you did. You and your mom were the first people here, and you stayed with me the whole day. I remember you always made sure you were blocking my view of the casket, because I didn’t want to look. I couldn’t handle seeing her corpse, painted in makeup she would never have worn, surrounded by that ugly silk liner in the coffin. Judy wasn’t silk. She was blue jeans.” I start to cry.
Rennie smiles tenderly and pulls me into a tight hug. “Of course I’d show up, dummy. I was your best friend.”
Rennie was a good friend, mostly. And she was there for me when it really counted. “I’m glad we made up before you died,” I tell her, hugging her back.
She groans, “Ugh. I freaking hate that girl.”
As soon as I let go, Rennie disappears. “Wait! Ren!”
I turn and see that the next person in line is Mary. “Why are you crying?” she asks in a very curt voice. “Rennie made your life miserable, remember? You said you hated her. You said you were happy that she was going to finally get what she deserves.”
“I—I know that. But we made up.” I wipe my eyes. “And she didn’t deserve to die.”
Mary rolls her eyes. “You’re such a traitor, you know that? You wanted this! Don’t you remember our pact? You’re a terrible friend who breaks promises, and you’re a liar. I’m glad your mom gets to see who you turned out to be.”
It kills me to hear her say that. “Mary, wait. Come on, let me explain.” But she suddenly starts pushing me toward the casket. “No! I don’t want to look! Don’t make me look!”
But Mary is so freaking strong. And my shoes slip along the floor. I squint my eyes tight, because I can’t fight her off. I feel myself hit the casket, the edge of it smacking into my stomach.
“Open your eyes!” she screams.
“No! Please!”
Her fingers peel apart my eyelids. “Look at what you’ve done!”
I’m hysterical.
And then, suddenly . . . nothing.
“Kat, sweetie, it’s okay.”
I open my eyes, and there’s my mother by my side. She looks like she did before she got sick. Healthy. And so beautiful.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” I say, clinging to my mom.
“She’s lost, Kat. And that makes her dangerous.”
* * *
I wake up in the den, sprawled out on the couch. Dad and Pat are standing over me with the weirdest expressions on their faces. Even Shep is there, barking like mad and panting his hot breath in my face.
“What?” I say, and wipe the drool off my cheek.
“That must have been some dream, daughter.” Dad says. “You were thrashing.”
It was a crazy-ass dream, and I know it ain’t going to be in my dream dictionary. But as crazy as it was, I’m not happy to be awake. I wish I was still asleep with my mom next to me.
* * *
On my way to class the next day, Alex casually drops a paper hat onto the top of my head as he walks by.
It doesn’t even occur to me that it’s a note until I pull it off my head at the insistence of Mrs. Hetzel. That’s when I see Alex’s handwriting on the underside. I peel back the folds and find an invitation to join him and his friends on a boat trip for spring break. As part of his graduation present, Alex’s uncle Tim hired a crew to sail his boat around and basically attend to our every whim. Alex can invite whoever he wants.
I find him practicing his guitar in the chorus room during his free period. Right away he grins at me and is like, “Are you in?”
“Maybe.”
He’s surprised. “Why not?”
“First off, I said maybe! Are Lil and Reeve coming?” Alex looks away. “Did you even invite them?” When he doesn’t answer, I flick his ear, hard. “You invite all their other friends but not them? Oh my God, you know what, Al? This vindictive thing you’re doing”—I wave my finger in a circle—“is not a good look on you. I get it. Reeve stole your dream girl and Lil picked another guy. But also, BFD. Don’t hold on to this shit and let it turn you into something you’re not.”
He sighs. It probably is exhausting for Alex to keep up this level of anger. It’s not in his nature. “Do you want to come or not?”
