I had to speak in front of all these people. It was my excuse for bringing a little something.
There was no denying I'd turned into a sad motherfucker, though. I could barely spell health anymore. I didn't know when I'd last worked out or eaten something that didn't come in a Styrofoam box. I drank every day. I hadn't shaved in two weeks. It was a chore to get in the shower.
"Could that be him?" Daniel asked.
I pocketed my flask again and looked to where he was watching. A young man was stepping out of a black car, and it could be him, yeah. It had been years, but I remembered that dark, curly hair he could never bother with. His skinny tie was crooked, his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder.
One piece of luggage.
"Yeah." I turned to another few latecomers and nodded politely. "Thanks for coming."
An old lady patted my hand. "I'm so very sorry for your loss, dear."
Forced smile.
Julian hurried over, his clothes wrinkled and his eyes probably as haunted as mine. He looked like shit. Like a kid in mourning.
I felt for him.
"Sorry I'm late." He fidgeted with the strap of his duffel, only pausing for a moment. Then he continued inside.
All right, then.
"You sure you guys are family?" Daniel quirked a wry smile.
I shrugged and rubbed the back of my neck. "It's been a while."
Besides, why talk to me when Julian could go over to his grandparents on James's side? We'd never been that close, anyway.
"Come on, I wanna get this over with," I muttered.
*
The pews on the first row were occupied by me, James's folks, a few of my aunts and uncles, their spouses, and Julian. I'd never been religious, so having my friends behind me was a relief when the priest droned on and on about God adding to his harem of angels. Maybe those weren't his words, but whatever.
There were breaks every now and then, and it was when those of us closest to the family shared stories and gave speeches.
Pop's brother fell apart at the podium, which shattered a bit more of me. I didn't think that was possible. But seeing these men—of that generation—get emotional was unheard of.
"Jesus, that bitch needs to give it a rest," I heard Sophie whisper.
I frowned and looked over my shoulder, finding her glancing apologetically at those who had heard her.
"Sorry." She was mortified, and then she gave me a subtle look and a roll of her eyes. Holding up her phone, she showed me a missed call from Emma.
I shook my head and faced forward again. Sophie was right. Emma needed to give it a fucking rest. She'd been trying to reach all of us since the news broke about Noah Collins losing his family, but she was the last person I'd talk to right now. I had more important things to deal with.
Gerald, James's pop, spoke of his son with pride. Some about his successful career, but mainly about his fortune in finding my sister. He went on about my niece and nephew, choking up, and Daniel tapped me on the shoulder, indicating I was next.
It made me queasy. I didn't feel forty. I wanted to be seven again. I wanted to fucking hide. Or drink myself into a coma and never wake up.
It seemed like no time passed, and then I was the one standing up there. I blanched for a second, seeing all those faceless people. Maybe going unscripted had been a bad call, but I'd never been good with written speeches.
I adjusted my tie and cleared my throat. It was hot in here, or perhaps it was just me.
Glancing behind me, I saw the photos we'd had enlarged and framed. Ma, Pop, Mia, James, JJ, Linda. Their smiling faces.
What the fuck did I say?
There was nothing left.
So that’s what I went with.
"Life goes on, they say," I said, raising the mic a bit. "I just don't see how at this point. My family's always been there for me, even when we were separated by oceans. Each and every one of them played a huge part in my life, so I don't have a favorite memory. I have hundreds." I paused, staring unseeingly at the speech someone forgot earlier. "They're supposed to be here. And—" I had to clear my throat again. "And now that they're not, it's kinda like running out of purpose."
I was always so fucking excited to share something with my family. My passions were mine alone, but they supported me. Had. Had, had, had. With them being gone, I had no clue how to stay motivated.
"I guess it's selfish, needing them for me." I scratched the side of my head. "It is what it is, though. I'll miss the little things. JJ and Linda calling me on Skype to fill me in about soccer and dance classes, bitching with my sister about everything between heaven and earth, catching a game with Pop…" I smiled wistfully and dragged a hand over my face. "They made everything worth it, and I'll miss them more than I can say."