She chuckled to herself, her gaze distant, almost dreamy. I could just picture little James like that, and it

made me smile too. Mrs. Foley looked at me thoughtfully as if trying to read my mind. “There are old

souls and young souls in this world. And I’m guessing you’re not as young a soul as you let on either.”

I felt strangely naked under her gaze, as if she could see through me. “I’m not sure I believe in the

concept of souls,” I shrugged with a smile, trying to provoke her a little.

But the gray eyes were focused on me, and she didn’t buy it at all. “Bullshit.”

I laughed. Some moments she was so completely like James, it was almost spooky. “That’s good

coffee,” I changed the subject, taking a sip.

“Uh-huh. My first husband used to say my coffee made him fall in love with me.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you too,” I grinned at her, and she threw her head back and laughed.

For a moment I could see the pretty young girl she once used to be.

“Don’t you dare. My Jimmy wouldn’t like that one bit.”

I winked at her. “We could keep it a secret.”

She laughed again, and shook her head at me. “As tempting as that may be, far be it from me to

stand in the way of my son’s happiness.”

My heart gave a strange little jump at that. “Is that your verdict then?”

“Well,” she smiled. “You and he both have a lot of learning to do first, that’s for sure. There’s no

telling what might happen.” She paused and looked at me, a little smile on her lips. “But you passed my

inspection. I’m not sure why exactly,” she added, laughing softly.

“Why, thank you,” I bowed playfully. “I’m honored.”

“As you should be.”

A comfortable silence followed. We both continued to smoke, and I felt as relaxed in her presence as

if I’d known her for ages. I had that feeling again, the same one I’d had the first time we’d talked. A

strange kind of yearning to have what James had, a bit of family, someone who would always stand by

me. You could tell just by looking at her that Mrs. Foley would do anything for her son. She was

prepared to fight like a lioness for him if she only had the strength. I thought she was probably tougher

than she looked, just like him.

We talked about this and that, and before I knew it I had been there for over an hour. She was getting

tired, so I thanked her for the coffee and the company, and said good-bye to her. Never knowing that

that was the last time I would speak to her.

My aimless walking has led me back to my dorm room, and as I let myself in, I suddenly know that I

need to go to the funeral. I may not have known Mrs. Foley well, but she’s left quite an impression on

me. It hurts to think that she’s gone, and I feel a wave of sympathy for James I never thought I’d be able

to feel again in my unforgiving anger. All of that seems so silly and petty all of a sudden.

* * *

You know how it always rains at funerals in the movies? At Debbie Foley’s funeral, the sky is overcast,

but birds are singing happily in the trees nearby. It smells of earth and wet lawn from the light spring

rain last night. I’m the last one to get there. When I enter the cemetery, a small group has already

gathered around the open grave. Only two elderly women and three guys in firefighter’s uniforms, the

rest are James’ friends. I’m surprised by the turnout. James is standing in the middle, dressed in black,

his gaze pinned to the ground. Mills is there beside him, Keller, and two girls I’ve seen J hang out with.

A lot of reporters from the Woodhaven Herald are present, showing support I’m sure James never knew

he had.

I stop near a tree to watch from a distance. I’m not sure he would want me there, so I’m hoping I

won’t be noticed.

I can’t stop staring at James, even though I know I shouldn’t. He seems completely composed, but

he’s wearing the exact blank, cold expression he wore when he told me to stay out of his life. And

suddenly I understand.

I almost can’t bear it anymore then. It’s like all my anger comes tumbling down, and just vanishes

into thin air. Feelings I’ve been suppressing so hard over these last couple of months are bursting back

up to the surface. No chance of holding them back, that’s how strong they are. Seeing him like this does

everything the many letters he wrote me couldn’t. Words don’t mean a thing. But this now, it shows me

how hard it was for him to give me up. That exact same look on his face. It shows me that what he

wrote is true, that he did care about me. That he was in love with me then. That he still feels the same

way about me now.

Forgiveness. It’s so sudden and strong that it feels like there never was any grudge at all. The past

doesn’t matter. Because nothing has changed. I feel the same way about him as I always have. I’m as

crazy about him as I’ve ever been. My heart is beating like crazy. And it’s killing me to know how much

he must be hurting right now. And that I can’t be there to help him through this. It’s tearing me apart,

the way I’ve been treating him. The way I let my wounded pride get in the way of being with the one

person on earth I’ve ever really wanted to be with. I feel like the world’s biggest idiot. But I can’t tell

him now. I need to leave him alone, because the last thing he needs right now is me barging in, trying to

break through the carefully constructed composure that’s shielding his pain.

So I stay where I am and watch from a distance, the wind carrying over only half of what the priest

is saying. It doesn’t matter; the speech is always the same. I am the resurrection and the life. I wonder if

Mrs. Foley even believed in that. I say my silent good-byes to her, and I thank her for having been kind

to me, when every other mom in the world would have surely kicked me out. In spite of her illness, she

was a caring human being with a brilliant sense of humor, and she never deserved to die like this. That’s

when a ray of light breaks though the clouds and lights the scenery. And James suddenly looks up and

right at me.

We stand completely still, just looking at each other. And the composed mask James was wearing

starts to crumble almost immediately. I realize that I’m moving only when I’m almost there already.

Like I’m on autopilot, and this is all that I can do. Then I’m next to him, and he’s looking at me like

someone losing the ground beneath his feet, and I take his hand in mine. He squeezes my hand and

holds on tight.

* * *

“That’s all that’s left of it,” James says tonelessly. We’re leaning against my car that’s parked in what

used to be his driveway. The house is gone. Only part of the walls and a bit of the first floor is still

standing, along with the porch. You can see some remains of the upstairs bedroom. Black, indefinable

masses that used to be furniture. The stench of burnt wood and plastic still hangs heavy over the place,

nauseating. Yellow police tape warns us not to cross, bright against the coal-black ruins.

“Are you sure you want to be here right now?” I ask softly.

James only nods, staring at the remains of his home. We stand in silence for a long while until he

speaks again.

“You gotta love the irony.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

James turns his head to look at me, his expression blank. “Simon was a firefighter.”

I look away, unable to hold his gaze. He’s right. That’s pretty damn ironic if you think about it. If

Simon were still alive today, this surely wouldn’t have happened. And he was the one who caused Mrs.

Foley all that misery that made her ill to begin with.

J swallows, and completely out of the blue he says: “I killed him. That’s what I did. I killed him, and