I can hear sobbing throughout the church, but I try to block it out. I can only deal with my own grief at the moment. That may be selfish, but it’s all I know how to do at the moment. It’s my pain, my loss. Father John begins to talk, but I block him out.
I force my mind out of this horrible place and remember the good times we had. Closing my eyes, I leave the church filled with people behind and travel back to a time when Emmett was alive.
“Have you made a decision yet on what you want?” the man behind the counter at Daily Scoop whose name tag read “Eric” asked me as I browsed the different flavors of ice cream in the case in front of me. I tilted my head and thought of the four different flavors I’d just tasted: cotton candy, double fudge brownie, caramel swirl, and chocolate chip cookie dough.
“Yes, can I get two scoops of mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone?”
I felt arms wrap around me from behind, and Emmett laughed in my ear softly. “You always do that.”
I turned my head to face him but kept our position with my back to his front. “Do what?” I said teasingly.
He kissed my temple. “You always taste a bunch of flavors and spend all this time deciding what you want and literally every time you get the same thing. Every. Single. Time.” He laughed at me again.
“What can I say? I know what I love, and that will always be mint chocolate chip ice cream. Our love affair goes way back.”
Emmett ordered a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of peanut butter brownie in a bowl topped with Reese’s Cups. He always joked it was the ultimate Reece’s Cup lovers. Even though he gave me shit for my predictable order, he did the same thing, although he didn’t try all the different flavors.
“While I appreciate your love affair with mint chocolate chip ice cream, do you want to know what I love?”
I leaned back into him while we waited for our ice cream and closed my eyes, taking in the moment. Nothing could top this amazing feeling right now. I nodded to him, wanting to know.
“I love you, Danielle Jacobs.”
I slowly turned around to face him and placed my palm over his cheek. Was this really happening? Did he just say he loved me? “You love me?”
He nodded. “I’ve loved you my whole life, I’m pretty sure; it just took me a little while to say it aloud. You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to.”
I was so shocked that I didn’t even hear Eric call that my ice cream was ready. I was still staring at the amazing guy in front of me who’d just admitted that he loved me.
Emmett stepped forward and took the ice creams from Eric and handed me mine. He went to walk toward the register, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back toward me.
“I love you. I always have and always will.”
Emmett’s eyes filled with so much love that he scooped me into his arms and spun me around. It startled me so much that I ended up dropping my ice cream on the floor.
“Oh no!” I shouted and giggled.
Emmett looked down and waved to Eric to ask for a new one and said that he would pay for the one that dropped. He turned to face me again and brushed his lips lightly across my mine.
“I love you, Cupcake. Forever and always.”
I lifted my arms around his neck, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. He pulled me in for another kiss, and my heart felt so full, I didn’t care that I was only fifteen. When you know, you know.
I’ve zoned out for most of the funeral, standing and sitting when necessary just because I see those around me doing so. Haylee somehow found the strength to get up there to give the eulogy. She talked about how Emmett was always there for her, looked out for her, what a great friend he was, and shared a few memories. But what I hated about her speech the most was the term “was.” He was a big brother, was a best friend, was my love, was a strong athlete—none of those present tense, because this is now a world without Em in it. He was in this world but no longer is.
I had finally gotten control of my tears and refused to look at Haylee while she gave her speech because I wouldn’t have been able to hold back. After Haylee spoke, Zach stood at the microphone and read a poem called “The Dash.” It’s a poem about the day you were born or the day you died not mattering, but it was how you lived your “dash,” the life in between the dates. What a joke—the date you die does matter, especially if you are taken too soon. Emmett wasn’t supposed to die at only eighteen. He had plans—he told me so.
I feel like I blink and the service is over. My father, Mr. Brian, Zach, two members of the lacrosse team, and Haylee and Emmett’s cousin, Cooper, all rise and walk toward the casket to be the pallbearers to escort the casket out to the hearse. Father John says one last prayer and how we will lead Emmett to his final resting place. “Bridge Over Troubled Water” begins to play; Ms. Natalie used to sing this song to Emmett when he was baby.
Throughout this whole time no more tears have fallen, but I also don’t feel anything. As the funeral director leads the men and the casket down the aisle, Mom wraps her arms around Ms. Natalie and begins to follow them. Haylee and I join our hands and try to find strength in each other for this walk, but both of us are drained of strength at this point. We are just going through the motions. I take a deep breath and exit the pew, and Haylee and I slowly stride to the limo.
The drive to the cemetery is a bit of a blur. I stare out the window with my hand on my chin holding up my head. My other hand plays with the folded piece of paper for the poem I’m supposed to read graveside, “If Tomorrow Starts Without Me.” Isn’t it ironic that tomorrow will start without Em? It’s not a matter of if—it’s a fact.
Mom hands me a tissue, but I push it away. There are no more tears. A fog has rolled in over my mind. I’m not sure sunshine and blue skies are in the forecast of my life anytime soon.
M y phone has been buzzing all night and day with phone calls, texts, and social media notifications. They all read the same: “Happy 18th Birthday, Dani!” Having a birthday four days before Christmas always sucked, but my parents had always made sure I felt special by making a big deal out of my special day. But there is nothing happy about today. I am officially an adult, and the saddest part of that is I can say at only eighteen I have not only found my once-in-a-lifetime love but also lost him. I’m not talking about high school romance bullshit where you grow apart or break up because of the distance of college. I mean full brokenhearted, world torn apart, grief-stricken loss. What a way to start off adulthood, huh?
I’ve managed to stay in bed all day avoiding the living as I have for the past two weeks. That’s all I’ve been doing the past two weeks. I’ve replayed Emmett’s last voicemail over and over; his voice has been instilled into my brain, but I fear one day it may fade. I refuse to let it.