About You

CHAPTER NINETEEN

When we finally leave the room, the service is over and everyone is heading to the little graveyard for the burial.

"C'mon," Evan grabs my hand and pulls me to the parking lot. We pass his parents on the way out, but they don't notice us.

"I'll give them a ride, don't worry," An older man says to us as we pass. Evan nods to him and I offer a sad smile as well. Faces blur together as we pass. Everyone wants to give Evan their condolences, but he just wants to get out of here as soon as possible.

The bright white snow glitters down onto the roof of the darkened church. When we finally make it outside to the parking lot, the wind seems to cut us in half. I can feel myself losing my grip on his arm when we stop at the front of his truck.

I go to open my mouth to ask him what's wrong, but I already know the answer. Everything.

I making a small squeaking noise instead.

"I know, baby." He squeezes my hand. "Let's get out of here."

I crawl in the passenger's side of his truck and pull on my seatbelt. I don't know how many times I've been in a vehicle and not known that it could have been my last.

I shudder thinking about it. Evan starts his truck and pulls out of the parking lot, carefully driving around so many young girls and their families. Jordan was a young girl. Too young.

...

Everyone else is at the burial site before us because Evan felt like driving around for a while first. I didn't complain. I wasn't ready either.

We find the secluded cemetery on a gravel backroad. Small, private, peaceful. When we park on the side of the ditch, I pull my hand through his and walk slowly with him to the crowd. We may be near the big city, but technically Evans family belongs to the small-town community of Big Valley about twenty minutes further past his house.

It looks like everyone in the whole town and surrounding area is here. Were there this many people at the church?

We politely walk through everyone towards the front, and thankfully no one stops us. Her casket is here, just silently sitting. Almost like it's waiting for us to open it and find it all a big joke. Almost.

Evan walks me over to his mom, Mary, and she takes my arm. Before I can say anything, he walks away to the others who were selected to carry her over to the grave. I watch him go and so does Mary. I can tell she's losing it by the way she's squeezing and twisting my arm.

I can't imagine what she's going through. Watching one baby lowering another baby into the ground. I squeeze her hand back.

There is too much emotion for me to handle when we're asked if anyone would like to say a few last words. It's like the idea of never seeing her again hits the hardest right then. She's being buried. She's never coming back.

Evan comes back to stand between me and his mom and we both lean on him. But he steps out again to drop a handful of dirt on his sister when prompted. My knees sway beneath me and I can tell his mom is having trouble standing as well. We cling to each other like a lifeline.

Evan comes back and hugs his mother. She just hugs him back. Neither of them can do anything more for Jordan. I remember thinking this as I fall.

Thankfully not onto the ground, but into the arms of a bystander who saw me swaying all afternoon and happened to catch me as my knees finally buckle beneath me.

I drift in and out of the next few minutes.

I wake up in a panic on a bench off to the side of the grave site. Evan is holding my head in his lap and trying to keep my hands warm.