I rock back and forth on my feet. I hear the words, but I don’t know if I will ever believe them.
***
I stay at Katie’s grave until everyone is gone, long after Deb was hauled away by her family, crying hysterically.
“Vandal, we should go now.” I almost forgot Lukas was here, leaning against the huge oak tree, watching me.
I can’t take my eyes off the mound of fresh dirt I’m sitting next to. My beautiful baby girl, who slept snuggled in a pink down comforter surrounded by teddy bears, is now in a box in the ground. I fight the urge to claw through the dirt and bury myself with her. I want the dirt to slide down my throat and choke me so I can sleep beside her forever.
Lukas’s boots appear next to me. “It’s getting dark. I’m sorry, Van, but we gotta go.”
“I can’t leave her.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I know. But I have to take you home. And Ivy’s waiting for me at my place.”
I throw a small rock that I’d been holding. “Must be nice. Does her husband know she’s there?” As soon as the words leave my mouth I regret saying them. I like to hurt people; I always have. I want them to feel the pain that I feel and the disappointments I’ve been forced to feel. That just seems fair to me. Not fair to Lukas, though.
“That was a douche thing to say, Vandal. I know you’re hurting, but don’t fling your sadistic shit on me. I’m going home. If you want a ride, get up.”
I don’t look up as he walks away from me to his car. I have no doubt that he’ll leave me here after what I said to him because I deserve it.
Minutes turn to hours while the sky morphs from blue to fiery orange to gray. I don’t want to leave her here but I know I can’t sit in the cemetery all night either. Kissing my fingertips, I press them to the mound of dirt that blankets my daughter.
“Goodnight, sweet girl,” I whisper. “I’ll be back soon.”
When I reach the end of the narrow path and walk through the wrought-iron gates of the cemetery entrance, I see one lone car in the dark parking lot. I trudge over to the black Corvette and get inside. Without a word, Lukas starts the car and pulls out of the lot. I turn to him but his eyes remain on the road, his inked arms taut as he grips the steering wheel, deep in his thoughts.
“Sorry, I’m an asshole,” I say after a few minutes of silent driving, and he finally acknowledges me.
“I’m gonna let it slide because I know you’re hurting,” he says. “But I’ll say this: I’ve tried really fucking hard to get to know you. I thought it was great when we opened the tattoo shop together and got involved in the band together. Unlike you, I was glad to have a family, and be around people that understand me and accept me. But you … I just don’t fuckin’ know, man. You act like you hate all of us.”
I try to stretch in the cramped front seat. Corvettes must be designed for midgets. All I want to do is get home and be alone so I can drink, pop a few pills, and numb the pain. The last thing I want to do is have a heart-to-heart with my little brother.
“I don’t hate you, Lukas. I just don’t bond well.”
His jaw clenches. “Maybe you should try to bond, Vandal. Did it ever occur to you that maybe Katie wasn’t the only person that needed you? Or that maybe the people who try to be there for you would like to have some kind of effort back? Not everything is just take, take, take.” He glances quickly at me before turning back to the road. “You can be really exhausting, and sometimes I wonder why I bother. If you keep kicking a dog, eventually he’s not going to come back. Think about that.”
I nod and play with a stray thread on my pants. “I’ll think about that, Lukas.”