The Saddest Song - By Susie Kaye Lopez Page 0,5
better than anyone and he could tell you anything.”
She pulled back and looked at me, her face showing her exhaustion. She looked so defeated, and then she smiled as the tears streamed from her eyes. “Thank you for telling me sweetheart. I loved being his mom, and his buddy. I just can’t believe he’s gone…” Her voice broke and we hugged again. How many tears could one human cry? It was endless. She composed herself a little and asked about me.
“Thank you for coming over Rainey. I know you are hurting as much as we are.”
“Mrs. McKinley, I needed to be here with you and Max and Mr. McKinley. I would’ve come sooner, but I couldn’t even talk.” Or walk, or think, or breathe. I glanced at Max who stood there beside us, a tear running down his cheek. “Where’s your dad?” I asked him.
“He went on a run. It’s the only time he’s left the house except for yesterday to go to the funeral.” I nodded, and Mrs. McKinley took Max by her right hand and me by her left and led us into the kitchen.
“You two are both skin and bones. I’m going to feed you, I couldn’t bear it if either of you got sick.”
“Oh, no thank you. I haven’t been able to eat.” I said. I knew I looked too thin, I had always been on the skinny side and at 5’8” I could look gaunt pretty quickly. I suppose I looked gothic, with my black hair and pale, emaciated body.
Once I had overheard two girls talking about me in the bathroom at school. I was in a stall and one said, “What does Garrett see in her anyway?”
Her friend replied. “What are you talking about, I think Rainey is gorgeous.”
“Yeah, if your into Vampires.” They both laughed, and I had waited for them to leave before exiting the stall. I had been so hurt. I had my Irish mother’s complexion and my dad’s dark black hair and eyes. I had always liked the contrast, but I was aware of looking too intense, so I chose to wear bright colors and avoided black. Until now. Black seemed appropriate as I looked down at my all black ensemble.
“All this food is just going to waste.” Mrs. McKinley gestured to the counter where several cakes, pies and trays of cookies covered the brown granite.
“Wow,” I said. It reminded me of the bake sales we used to have in Junior High.
“Oh, this is nothing Rainey. Look at this.” She opened her fridge and pointed to at least seven casseroles stacked atop one another, and three honey baked hams. “Let’s see, do you want lasagna, enchiladas, or chicken and broccoli?”
My stomach lurched at the thought, and I met Max’s eyes. He sighed in a resigned way and gave in. “Mom,” he said gently, “it’s still morning. We’ll have a glass of milk and some pie and see how it goes.” Then looking at me, he smiled gently and said, “She’s right Rainey, we need to eat something.”
“Okay.” I gave in, too exhausted to argue.
“Good, I’ll warm this blackberry one in the oven.” Mrs. McKinley seemed to perk up at the idea of feeding us. I could tell she was eager to take care of the child who remained. She placed the pie on a cookie sheet and put it in the oven, then turned to the table and set it for two.
“Wait mom, no deal if you don’t eat something too. The walking wounded stick together.”
She gave her son a resigned grin and added two more settings. “Okay, I’ll put one out for your dad too.”
As if on cue, Mr. McKinley came through the kitchen door, his sweatshirt stuck to his chest, wet with sweat. I nearly gasped at how much he looked like Garrett, a memory of him tired and sweaty after football practice flashed to my mind. I remember my mom telling me once that if I wanted to see what Garrett would look like in 25 years to just look at his dad. Strange how I had never seen how identical they were before.
“Hi Rainey,” He tried to smile, but it was broken. Just like his family. Just like me.
“I’d hug you but I’m soaked,” he said in a monotone voice.
“Go take a shower hun, we are all having pie as soon as you’re done,” Mrs. McKinley said. He didn’t question or comment, just nodded and headed toward the stairs.
Mrs. McKinley looked at us and said, “Will