WE STAYED AT the hospital for another thirty minutes or so. Everyone was hugging and crying. I'm numb. I am beyond being able to try to wrap my head around the fact that I have lost both of my parents within a couple of days. I don't think I have any more tears to cry.
No. That's not true. All I have to do is open my mouth to try to speak, and I'm reminded that I have plenty left. The only thing is that I don't want to cry them. I don't want to hurt. I don't want this pain. I want the non-existent rewind button.
We're in the van on the way back to the house. Everyone is coming to Memaw and Papa's house to just be together. The only good thing that has come from this is being with everyone. I didn't want it like this, though. I don't want any of this.
In fact, as much as I want to be around all of them, I desperately want some time to be alone. I think I must be overstimulated from it all. My head is either spinning or throbbing in pain from all the crying. I try to make my mind wander to other places.
I wonder what will happen with my friends. Where will I live? Will there be some kind of a big fight between grandparents as to who should have custody? Will I feel like I have to choose between them? I love them both equally, just in different ways. What will happen to our house in North Carolina? My home. None of these things make me feel any better. They just overwhelm me even more.
As I swipe the tears from my eyes, I hear a deep voice. Beautiful tears. If he only knew. Yeah. If he only knew, he'd probably wish he had never chased me and made a promise that he says he won't break. I feel so guilty for even thinking about him.
***
WHEN I GET back home, I hang around the house and listen as everyone shares memories, eats, and basically treats this as a family reunion. I can't. I can't talk. I can't eat. I can't share memories. It's too hard. I pop one of the pills that the doctor gave me in my mouth and decide I need some air.
This time, I decide to tell Papa where I'm going. I find him sitting in his recliner, a piece of Red Velvet cake on a Corningware saucer resting on his belly. It makes me smile. My Papa loves his sweets. I've had a lot of Red Velvet cake in my life. No one makes it quite like Miss Shirley and my Memaw, though. It's the best I've ever had. I know it's supposed to have cocoa in it, but they don't put so much to where it overpowers the cake. It's light and fluffy.
Papa moves his plate and puts it on the big freezer that's beside his chair. He pats his right thigh. "Come sit on your Papa's lap."
Plopping down, I wrap my arms around his neck. It's like I'm an empty vessel lost at sea, not knowing who I am anymore. He reminds me. "You'll always be Papa's Little Girl. You know that, right?"
He rubs my back. I can't speak. I just nod my head and sniff, refusing to give in to the tears. I hear people talking about me as if I'm not even in the room. "That Alex still sits on her Papa's lap. How about that."
It's okay. I wish I wasn't here. I wish I had been with them. What kind of messed up cruel joke is this, anyway? If it weren't for my grandparents, I think I would just go into my room and swallow the entire bottle of pills. But I can't. I can't do that.
We sit like this for a few minutes and I come to the conclusion that I can't be here any longer. I just need some time to be alone. The creek. Nope. Can't go back there right now. I don't need to be with Drew. I can't deal with the guilt that I have for liking a boy.
"Pop," I whisper.
"Yes'um." He rubs my hair, my head still resting on his chest.
"Can we go for a walk?"
YOU ARE READING
Skipping Stones - COMPLETE
Romance"I would compare this novel with others that have had such a great impact they have ultimately been made into motion pictures." -The Book Enthusiast To love is to lose, but can she ever win again? There are five stages of grief: denial, anger, barga...
