–Confucius

I take notice once again of how blue the sky is before I head inside with Zeus on my heels. I’ve spent the morning in the backyard trying to make sense of too many things, only to come up with the conclusion that I need to stop avoiding Kendall and spend as much time as I can with her when my time here is quickly coming to an end. My sisters once again brought up visiting the cemetery last night at dinner after our nails had all been painted the same shade of pale pink. The topic made me withdraw. The invitations that quickly turned into obligations made me shut down. I forcibly sat through another awkward family dinner with my sisters and was beyond grateful for it being a weeknight so they all retired early.

I slept in Kendall and Jameson’s room again last night. Even though they say they don’t mind, I hate that I’m imposing on them. I hated the idea of seeing Max again more, so I ate the guilt and laid on the very edge of the mattress where I slept in broken stints.

The kitchen tile is cold beneath my bare feet as I fill a glass with water to buy a few extra seconds alone.

“Hey.” Kendall’s blue eyes are wide with determination, making my muscles slowly retract, dreading whatever she’s already plotting.

Reality sets in as Kyle rounds the corner, approaching me from behind Kendall.

“I was thinking we could go to the cemetery today,” she says.

My head shakes instantly in protest.

“Ace, you need to go see him.”

“I can’t see him, Kendall. He’s dead.” I see the pain that my words inflict upon their faces, but I can’t soften this. I need to make them stop.

“We’ll go with you,” Kyle says, taking more steps to eat the gap between us.

“What for? I don’t need you guys.”

“Ace!” Kyle’s single word comes with a tone of warning, but it does nothing but make my eyes narrow into a glare. I don’t know what I’m daring him to do, or why I am, but I feel ready for some sort of battle, because I can’t do this. “Why are you being this way?” His eyes search my face like he truly doesn’t recognize me.

“Don’t judge me. You don’t even know who I am! I’ve grown up! I’m not six years old anymore!”

“Like hell I don’t know you!”

Kendall reaches forward and grips Kyle’s forearm and takes another step so she’s in front of him. “Ace, you need to start facing things.” Her voice is smooth and firm, but her eyes are filled with fear as tears dance within them. “I’ve allowed you to talk me into thinking I’m doing the right thing by not saying or doing anything too many times. I’ve always justified it by thinking I was protecting and helping you—but I wasn’t.” She shakes her head slowly as tears begin running down her cheeks. “We’ve all done it, but I was the worst. I never knew how many secrets you kept so carefully hidden. You buried every trace of them with your smiles that I always knew…” she swallows and shakes her head “…I knew it was to cover things you didn’t want to talk about. I just never knew you would hide so much. And now when I start thinking about it, I can think of so many times that I saw you placate us all with that smile, pretending that nothing was wrong when there was. We weren’t helping. We weren’t protecting you. We were doing the exact opposite. You need to face this, Ace, and acknowledge the pain that you’re working so hard to avoid that you moved across the damn country.”

Her words hit me like an open-palmed slap to the face, severe and harsh as they leave me and my eyes stinging. “I’m not hiding.”

“Ace, you’re mad. It’s okay to be mad, but you need to understand why in order for it to stop consuming you.” Kyle’s voice drops to a soothing tone that does anything but.

“The only thing I’m mad about is everyone telling me what to do!” I say, taking a few measured steps toward the back door. “I’m twenty-one years old. I’m a freaking adult. Why can’t you guys get that?”

“Someone needs to tell you what to do!” Kyle yells, his eyes accusing me of so many things I already know are my fault.

“Kyle,” Kendall quietly warns.

“Why are you even here?” I demand, looking to Kyle. “He wasn’t your dad.”

“I’m a part of this family!” Kyle roars. “Me,” he yells, pointing a finger to his chest. “He was my dad.” I clench my teeth harder to avoid the pain I feel when I see his eyes cloud with tears. “I didn’t know what family was until I met you guys. And you,” he says, looking directly at me, “you were the one that was so insistent on including me with everything! I’m a part of this family! I lost my father too, and now I feel like I’m losing my goddamned little sister, and I fucking hate it!” His voice is loud and pleading, his hands both clenched in fists. “You’re my sister, Ace. You’re one of my best friends. You introduced me to this life, to your family, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m not giving up on you, and I’m not letting you push me away anymore.”

My teeth clench several times as my eyes wander around the kitchen before they finally return to Kyle. “I’m so mad at him,” I whisper as a stream of tears fall down my cheeks in a hot flow that doesn’t seem to have an end. “I’m so mad at him for dying.”

“I know.” Kyle’s words are nearly silent. His chin quivers as tears glide over his tanned cheeks. “I know,” he says again, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against his chest.

My emotional dam breaks for the second time this week, and with it comes my confession. “I lost everything that day.”

“You didn’t, Ace. You didn’t lose everything. We’re still here for you, and we love you. We love you so, so much,” Kendall says. Her hand runs through my hair and I feel her body wrap around my back as Kyle holds me closer.

“He left and my world left with him. I lost Max, and Mom, and my freaking sanity.”

“You didn’t lose me, baby.” The quiet voice makes the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end.

I turn to face her and my lungs constrict even more at the familiar sight of my mom before I drown in the familiar scent of perfume, hair spray, and makeup as she holds me with what feels like every ounce of her strength. I begin to cry even harder. I’d just proclaimed my independence as a grown adult, yet I’m sobbing into my mother’s neck, letting her cradle me like a child, because I really need her comfort and her protection. I’ve needed it for a while now.

She holds me without loosening her grip for a very long time, kissing the side of my face and stroking my back and my hair as she repeatedly tells me how sorry she is and how much she loves me.

Somehow, having my mom here with me makes seeing my dad a little easier, but only by very thin threads. Pulling into the parking lot of the cemetery, my entire chest aches with the desire to cry and the need to remain strong.

My mom’s aware of my fear of death—it’s nothing new—however, I can tell by looking at just the tightness of her hands that this is just as hard for her to be here, so I resolve to be strong for her.

I’ve only been here once since we buried him and that was to see him before I left for Delaware ten months ago, yet my feet know the most direct path to him. I would know the route even if I had waited twenty years to return.

I stop when we get within several feet, and his large headstone blurs as I stare at it amongst the sea of other plaques and headstones surrounding us.

My mom grips my hand, and it’s almost painful because my fingers are already clenched, refusing to relax and intertwine around hers. But she somehow manages to force hers between mine, and then leads me so that we stand in front of his grave.

Except for the sounds of some birds chirping, and the soft rustle of the wind, it’s silent. Kitty and I have begrudgingly discussed this moment several times. The purpose of visiting a loved one once they’ve passed, the therapy behind speaking to and acknowledging them. She’s encouraged me to remember the happy moments and allow them to fill me so the grief and sadness can dissipate. She told me that when I got here, I should just talk to him. Talk like he’s actually here, listening to me, because for all we know, he really is.