"I'm okay, baby. Just give me this," he whispered into her ear, hoping to ease some of her concern. "After tonight, it's all over. Just give me this last night." Autumn nodded against his shoulder, letting out a small sob as she hugged him tighter. "Robert, please take her to the car."
Kane released his sobbing daughter to his now crying son. All he wanted to do was continue sitting here just being with Avery. Robert did what he'd asked and came back, giving Kane room to do what he needed, where Autumn would have crowded him in her desire to make things better.
The guard in charge provided Robert a place to sit, where he could wait with Kane until the honor guard came to escort the casket to the funeral procession. When the military pallbearers arrived the next morning to execute their duties, they were denied at the door by the guard.
"Sir, they're here to take Mr. Vice President. I'm clearing out the room to give you a moment alone. They won't wait long," a younger sounding guard said. Kane never saw him. The man spoke from behind Kane's back, and then immediately turned and left the room again, drawing the doors closed behind him with a soft click. Kane stared at the casket. This was it, his last time with Avery. He stood; his tired gritty eyes roamed the top of the closed mahogany box. He wished he had one last look at Avery before they took him away. Kane placed both hands on top of the coffin, his eyes filled with tears. Tears that just wouldn't stop flowing.
He leaned in, placing his forehead close to where he thought Avery's would be, and he softly whispered, hoping Avery could hear his words, "I have to leave you now. I know you would fight this, but you have to do this part alone. They have so much planned to honor you today. It's exactly the way you would have wanted it. It's what you deserve…" Kane closed his eyes tighter, saying goodbye to Avery was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He took a deep breath, trying to get through everything he wanted to say. "I love you, Avery. Always. You completed my life. You made me whole, gave me hope, made me a better man. For me, you were everything right in my life. And I know you're in heaven smiling down on us. You're too good a man to be kept out because of me. I know you have to be one of God's special angels. I know you're there, and I'm happy for you. I just miss you so much already. I'm trying to pull myself together here, but I'm failing, and I'm sorry. I'm just lost without you."
"Daddy, they need to take the casket." Robert's voice came from somewhere behind him.
"I love you, baby. Forever and always." Kane pressed his lips against the top of the casket, his tears falling freely on the polished mahogany box. This was it, they were taking Avery. It felt so wrong to leave his side, so final. How would he find the strength to go on without him? Kane kissed the coffin again before he forced himself away. Robert materialized beside him, handing him a handkerchief—one of Avery's—and he cried a little harder when the scent of his favorite cologne wafted from the soft fabric. Kane stood, watching the guards, Robert's arm wrapped around his shoulders, holding him up, as Avery was taken from the room. Kane followed closely behind the casket, waiting until they loaded Avery inside the hearse to transport him to the funeral events of the day.
Chapter 33
One week later
"Kane honey, you have to eat. I've told the children you're eating more and bathing. Please don't make a liar out of me," Kennedy said from her perch at Kane's kitchen table. He'd only come out of his room for a glass of water and a couple of Advil. He honestly didn't even know what time it was, a little surprised to still see daylight through the open curtains.
At the sound of her voice, Kane looked down at his clothing, relieved he wore his robe. He closed the lapels, tightened the sash, and he ran his fingers through his messy, dirty hair. He'd have thought she would have gone home by now. Kane grabbed the bottle of Advil, shook the last two pills into the palm of his hand, and reached for a bottle of water from his refrigerator. They were all gone.
Avery needs more water bottles, he thought to himself, before the realization of Avery's absence slashed across his heart on a level he'd never experienced before this last week, yet was growing painfully accustomed too. He'd had this same experience about nine hundred times a day since Avery's funeral. It was interesting how much anguish the heart could take and still continue to beat.
As the days since the funeral passed, and the house became depleted and unkempt, Kane naturally thought of how Avery would feel with his favorite soft terry bath towels still dirty from the morning he'd last used them, or how his toothpaste cap still lay discarded at the sink. Kane hadn't allowed housekeeping inside their bedroom; there were so many things Avery would have balked at after all this time.
Now, as he stared at the empty refrigerator, he thought about how Avery had been a complete water snob. He'd only drink a certain brand of water, and Kane had gone out of his way to keep the house stocked to encourage Avery to drink more. That brought tears to his eyes, ones he successfully fought as he turned away, settling on a glass of water from the sink.
He swallowed the pills down, dumping the rest of the water into the sink, and reminded himself all this was normal, no matter how bad he felt. Avery had occupied his head, heart, and soul for the last forty years. Of course he would continue on like this, probably until the day he died, and just like every time he thought that way, he said a small prayer wishing that day would come sooner rather than later.