Before I Die

After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, I check my phone and find several more missed calls from my mom. Not wanting to put it off any longer, I dial her number.

“Nevaeh,” she cries. “Did you get my messages?”

“I did.”

“Your brother… he’s dead.”

“I know, I heard.”

I shouldn’t be as mad as I am, but I can’t help it. Hearing her cry like she is when she refused to acknowledge my brother as her son for the last several years irritates me. I know she has a right to her feelings, but it still rubs me the wrong way.

“I’ve been in contact with the police and his body wasn’t able to be retrieved. The funeral has been planned for the day after tomorrow at our church.”

“He didn’t even attend your church,” I point out. Stephen had a will, but it didn’t specify the type of funeral he wanted, and since he doesn’t have a wife or children, it makes sense our mom would plan it, but still…

“Nevaeh, now is not the time to be defiant,” Mom snaps, showing her true colors. “When will you be home? I need you here to help.”

“You don’t need me for anything. I’ll be at the funeral. I have to go.”

I hit end on the call, and when it rings, I hit ignore. I wait for her to call back again, but she doesn’t.

Needing to hear my best friend’s voice, I find Blaire’s name on my contact list and hit call. It barely rings once before she answers.

“Nevaeh!” she gasps.

“Hey.”

“Your mom called me. When she couldn’t get a hold of you, she tried me. Is it true? What she said? Is Stephen dead? Did he die in a fire while he was asleep?”

“Yes,” I say softly. The pain in her voice reminds me of the pain I feel. My brother is dead. His heart stopped and it’s never going to beat again.

“I’m so sorry,” Blaire cries. “I hate that you’re not near me right now. I want to hug you.”

I swallow the lump in my throat over missing my best friend. It feels like the day Stephen died, I lost Blaire as well. There are so many lies, so many things I can’t tell her. It’s creating a wall between us.

“The funeral is Tuesday.”

“Your mom told me. You’ll be there, right? You’re coming home?”

“I will be there, but…”

The door opens and in walks Ethan. When his eyes land on my face and he takes in my tear-stained cheeks, he asks, “Everything okay?”

“Hey, Blaire, I’m going to have to call you back.”

“Who was that?” she questions, obviously having heard Ethan’s voice.

“Um, just a friend,” I say, unsure how to explain who or what Ethan is to Blaire without getting the third degree. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

Before she can argue, I hang up and press the button to power off my phone.

“Who was that?” he asks.

“Blaire. I was calling to tell her about my brother. My mom has arranged the funeral for Tuesday.”

He nods.

“Will you go with me?”

Ethan cuts across the room and pulls me into his arms. “Wherever you want me to be, I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.” I take a breath I didn’t know I was holding in and give him a kiss. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“It’s a surprise.” His lips curl into a boyish grin. “Pack an overnight bag and hurry, so we’re not late. We have a little bit of a drive ahead of us.”

“We’re leaving New Jersey?”

“We’re not going far, only to New York, but we won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

I can’t help the squeal I release at the thought of getting away. I went to bed last night mourning my brother all over again, and I know when we get back and I have to go to the funeral I will be mourning him once again, but it will be nice, even for a little bit, to just put my broken heart aside and focus on what he asked of me: Live hard. Love harder.

I look at Ethan and my heart squeezes in my chest. With him by my side, I’m pretty sure I can do both.

Nevaeh

“Forbidden Ink?” I ask, when we pull up to the storefront. With traffic, it was a little more than a two-and-a-half hour drive to New York. Ethan wouldn’t tell me why we were driving up here, but that didn’t stop me from guessing. Of course with every guess, he just laughed and told me he wasn’t confirming or denying.

“It’s a tattoo shop,” Ethan explains. “We have a hotel and casino here, and when I drive up to check on it, I come here to get my ink done. The guys here are the best around. I wouldn’t trust anyone but them to tattoo me.”

He gets out of his car and comes around to open my door for me. “Wait, so that’s what we’re doing here? Getting tattoos?”