Everything in Between

Chapter 1

Present Day

I'm on autopilot, functioning outside of my body. As if I'm watching someone else's life unfold in front of them. Because even though I knew the end was coming, even though it's been a year of chemotherapy and suffering and sleepless nights, and even though just a few days ago I tightly held her hand and watched her take her last breath, everything still feels surreal.

My mother is dead.

My beautiful, talented, fun-loving, chardonnay drinking mother who could crack the wisest jokes, make the best chocolate chip cookies, and who would give the shirt off her back for anyone is gone. Cancer took her life too soon at the young age of fifty-five years.

She was a highly respected and successful middle school teacher, and she was also a worn-down single mother who enjoyed patio drinks, gardening and sunsets. Everyone around her loved her charisma, her boisterous laugh, and cherished her quirks. Everyone, that is, except my absent dickhead father, who could never love much of anything other than himself.

I've been a mess all day and been ushered by loved ones from place to place. From my childhood home to the vehicle, the funeral home, a vehicle again, and finally to the cemetery.

The sun is high in the sky, the day full of sunshine and clear blue skies. Humidity threatens to frizz my dark brown hair, and the heat absorbs into my black dress. Tom places his hand on the small of my back, and even though my immediate reaction is to pull away from his touch, I don't this time. I am thankful he is here, even though we took a break from our relationship over a year ago. He's been a good friend and support system during all of this.

When my mom's diagnosis became aggressively terminal, I couldn't fathom holding onto my relationship with Tom any longer. I wanted to spend every moment with my mom without any other distractions. It wasn't fair to either of us to keep our relationship going when I could not give him what he needed and deserved. I was consumed with caring for my mom. I even received an accommodation to work remotely for my career as a Senior Financial Analyst for one of the biggest Finance Firms in New York and essentially moved back home to Ann Arbour, Michigan.

For an entire year, I put my life on hold. For an entire year, all I could think about was spending every moment I had with my mother, who had cared for me my entire life. And the worst part was I couldn't stop imagining over and over how I'd cope once she'd gone, what I'd say, how I'd act after the worst thing in the world happened to me. I have no siblings, just a deadbeat dad I barely know, my mom's brother, his wife and my two cousins, plus only a few relatives who all live on the West coast. I am essentially alone for the first time in my entire life. I have no one. My mother was my everything. I am far from religious – to my mother's dismay - and due to my free-spirited wild side, I would probably burst into flames if I walked into a church. I've prayed, though, during all this, hoping now that she's in a better place.

I resent how her life was cut short, and she had to suffer for so long. And then when the moment happened, and she was gone – although cliché – I truly realized how incredibly short and precious life is.

The pastor continues to speak, and I haven't heard a word of it. My mind is swirling and reeling, and I want this to be a dream. A terrible and horrible dream, and I hope someone is about to wake me up. Please, someone, wake me up.

I'm scared to raise my head and look around because I am too scared to see her casket in front of me. I also don't want to make eye contact with anyone because I don't want to see pity on their faces, and I don't want to break down in front of anyone. I need to stay strong and keep myself together for a bit longer. I'm not one to bear my emotions. 

Besides, everyone who was important to my mom is here today. My extended family from the West coast, my Uncle Rodney – my mom's brother- his wife, my Aunt Helen, and my cousins Harry and Henry – both in their early twenties. Neither of them I am remotely close. I know Tom is beside me. I know my friend Cece and her husband Reggie are here to attend, and there are also a handful of my mom's co-workers and her two best friends, Daniela and Josie. Everyone here loved her fiercely, just as I did, and I feel calmer suddenly knowing how loved she was by so many.

Heat rushes to my face at the thought that not everyone who loved her is here, though.

Zach isn't here.

But then again, it's all my fault he isn't here. We haven't spoken in three years. Anger blazes through me, lit by the unfairness of his absence. I exhale a breath of anger mixed with sadness that he hasn't even tried to reach out to me during this time. Especially because Zach loved my mom almost more than his own. My mom was the warm loving mother he'd never had. And because of my pride and being too stubborn to back down, it's all my fault he's not here.

I'm unsure whether it's because of Zach that causes my stomach to plummet or because my mother's casket begins to lower.

A scream, or maybe a sob, tried to struggle up my throat, but was blocked by a solid wave of nausea. I can't keep it together any longer, and I grab for Tom's sturdy arm to stay upright. Knowing this is my final goodbye...it rocks me harder than expected. My legs begin to shake. I feel Tom's hand run through my hair, and he whispers gently against my ear - "It's okay, Annie, I'm here. Everything is going to be okay." And I can't stop myself from crying any longer. I feel tears slide down my face, and I can't find any words. My throat was so dry I couldn't speak even if I tried.

And as my mother disappears into the earth, my chest becomes heavier. The harder it becomes to breathe, the more attentive Tom becomes and suddenly, I feel trapped. This is no longer surreal; it is happening, and I cannot stop myself from crying. The pastor speaks, and everyone tosses a single rose into her grave, and they land on her casket. Everything moves so quickly, and the service ends, and people are coming up to me, and I am hugged and served with deepest condolences and hands are shaken, and everyone is a faceless blur. And as cars begin to pull away from her grave, I do my best to try and compose myself.

Tom hands me my purse, and his hand falls to my lower back as he guides me forward. And when the view clears yards ahead of me, and when I realize what I'm seeing, who I'm seeing, my stomach plummets, and the air leaves my lungs like a final exhalation. Our eyes connect for a moment of recognition, and he nods in my direction, but he's also so far in the distance it's almost like I imagine him. Like he's some illusion caused by a mix of my hysteria and the scorching heat.

Even from a distance, I would recognize my ex-best-friend Zach Zimmerman's broad shoulders and tall athletic physique anywhere. I've studied his wavy brown hair so many times and envied his sun-kissed skin for far too many years not to know it's him. And after everything that's happened between us, I can't believe it's him. He's even dressed as I would imagine a now successful and ruthless Senior Research Associate and Economist for the Federal Reserve Bank would, in an expensive navy suit and a freshly pressed white button-down matched with a skinny tie.

My body's instinct is to run toward him, to throw myself into his arms and never let go, but I'm frozen. This is the moment I've wished for to happen for years. The moment I played over in my mind and placed front and center at the loop of my daydreams.

"Come on, Annie. It's been a long day," Cece says, distracting me momentarily. She touches my forearm and then looks at Tom and says, "Go around and grab the car. Let's get her home."

I frantically push past her and Tom, bringing the distance back into my line of vision.

And then, just like that, he's gone.