That’s what real grief looks like, I thought. And I felt like such a hypocrite as I stood among the mourners because I felt nothing.

****

My stomach churned as I watched gray clumps of ash bobbing on the surface of the water. I closed my eyes, but it only made things worse. Each time the boat moved, my stomach’s contents shook like salad dressing in a bottle.

And the boat moved a lot.

“I shouldn’t have had yogurt for breakfast,” I said to my mom.

“Don’t you dare.” She pressed her lips together into a tight line and glared at me. “I won’t let you spoil this for your grandmother. She hates me as it is.”

Bile rose into my throat. My stomach lurched. I put my hand to my mouth, willing the nausea to subside.

How much longer? I wondered. There was no way I was going to last. I sent up a hasty prayer to any listening deity, promising to never leave home without my motion sickness patch if I could make it through my dad’s funeral without puking.

The captain was speaking again, but I tuned him out. I had more important things to focus on.

Like not throwing up.

I needed to focus on something other than my stomach. My bright orange life jacket smelled of old plastic, and I doubted it would keep me afloat for long. A cold breeze stung my bare cheeks, tiny daggers attacking each pore. My grandmother’s sobbing seemed to be getting louder. Seagulls squawked overhead as though demanding a food offering as payment for dumping my father’s remains in their territory. I looked out to sea, where the ocean met the sky, and concentrated on the horizon’s steady line.

Shallow breaths, I said to myself. In and out. In and out.

The captain invited us to take our flowers and send them out to sea with the ashes. I rooted my feet. Movement was my enemy. I had no intention of going anywhere.

One by one, the mourners paused at the bow before tossing cut flowers into the ocean. Mom nudged me, and I shook my head.

“I can’t,” I said with a furtive glance in her direction, hoping she wouldn’t force me. When she nodded, I knew I must’ve been a shade of green. Maybe not emerald- or grass-green, but green. Like chartreuse or whatever.

In and out. In and out. My stomach lurched again. I needed to find a new point of focus.

“Vincenzo!” my grandmother cried with a heaving sob. My dad’s cousins gasped, someone screamed, and I looked out into the water in time to see a big splash as my grandmother fell overboard.

Chapter Eighteen

“Please tell me someone caught that on video,” Finn said later that afternoon after I’d relayed what had happened at the service. “I’d pay to watch that.”

“Finn, that’s awful,” Ally said as she swiped at his arm. “The poor woman just lost her son.” She straightened her spine and folded her hands in her lap. “Show a little respect.”

Beside me on the couch, Jake laced his fingers through mine and squeezed. I smiled. My friends had come over after school, and though I’d seen everyone with their parents earlier in the week, I was so happy to be able to talk to them away from my stepfather’s watchful eye. I knew he meant well, but I was kind of over it.

My cousin Pete laughed. “Nah, I’m with Finn,” he said. “I’ve heard six different people tell that story at least three times each, and it’s funny every time.”

“I don’t know how you kept a straight face,” Finn said.

Bianca furrowed her brow. “So, like, did she jump in? Or…?”

“That’s the punch line. I guess she was trying to toss in this giant wreath, and she fell in with it instead. That’s what Mom said, anyway.” I fought back a snicker and added, “She was not pleased.”

That was an understatement. My grandmother had to be wrapped in blankets once they plucked her out of the frigid waters, and she spent the entire trip back to the marina complaining about my mom and how my dad deserved a proper burial instead of being tossed into the water like the prior day’s garbage. Never mind that my mom was carrying out my dad’s final wishes and that California had all kinds of rules about throwing trash into the ocean, anyway. Never mind that my mom took care of everything, and that all my grandmother had to do was show up. Even if it had been a perfect day, I’m sure my grandmother would’ve found fault in something. She and my mom didn’t exactly get along, and after the divorce, she hadn’t been too fond of me, either.

“It’s still terrible,” Ally said with a sniff, “even if the visual is a little funny.”

At this, we all laughed, earning us stern looks from some of the adults nearby. This only made us laugh harder.

“When are you heading back to school, Pete?” Jake said after we’d composed ourselves. “You go to Northwestern, right?”

“Yeah. I’m leaving late tonight.” He stretched out his legs in front of him and crossed his ankles. “Catching a red-eye. I wanted to stay through the weekend, but I’ve got an econ test on Monday I couldn’t reschedule and a biology lab I can’t miss.”

Ally wrinkled her nose. “Yuck.”

“It’s fine,” Pete said. “My dad sprung for first class. I’ll probably sleep the whole way.”

“No, I meant the bio lab.” She shuddered. “I hate biology.”

Conversation drifted to school, with Ally and Bianca peppering my cousin with questions about college life and Finn inquiring about research opportunities. Jake squeezed my hand again, and only then did I realize he’d been holding it the whole time.

“So, is Finn ditching practice, or…?” I said, extracting my hand from his to stretch my fingers.

“There’s a game tonight, but I promised I’d get him back in time for it.” He smiled. “I maybe kind of guilted him into coming.”

I nodded. Finn was one of two sophomores on the varsity team, and he took his spot on the roster almost as seriously as he took his grade point average. After-school sightings were rare when there was practice, and even more so on game days.

“Thanks for that,” I said. “And for bringing everyone over.”

He lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I needed to drop off your books and stuff for homework, anyway.”

“It’s all up on the portal,” I reminded him.

“Yes,” he said, “but I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at the careful notes I took for biology.”

I raised my eyebrows, impressed. “This I’ve got to see.”

Ally cleared her throat. “Hey, Jake,” she said. “I don’t want to interrupt your little whatever or anything, but I need to get back to school for rehearsal.”

“I need to get to warm-ups, too,” Finn said, his eyes downcast. “Let Coach yell at me and get it over with.”

Bianca pocketed her phone and got to her feet. “Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “Tim said he and Brady covered for you. You’ll still start tonight.”

I rose to my feet to walk my friends outside. After some hasty good-byes, Jake pulled me into a huge hug.

“I’ll be around later,” he said into my hair. “If they let you out, I mean. I know you get restless and stuff.”

“Ugh. I feel like I’ve been cooped up forever.”

“Oh, before I forget.” He reached into his back pocket as he released me and handed me a smushed envelope. “From Clover.”

I looked down at it, and my stomach twisted into a knot. “When did you see her?”

“Last night.” He toyed with his keys, spinning them around his finger. “She said she’s really sorry, and if you need anything….”

“Yeah.” I forced a smile. “Tell her ‘thanks.’ I’m sure you’ll see her before I do.”

“Sure.” He hesitated for a second, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and then got into his car. I waved to them from the driveway as he pulled away.

“When did you guys get together?” Pete said when I walked back into the house.

“Who?”

“You and Jake.”

“We’re not.”

He didn’t say anything, but he stared as though he was studying my face or something.