the church so limp and hunched forward that it seemed as if all his bones had turned to gelatin overnight. And I would remember the open seat that had been left next to his dad, the seat that had been saved for Caden but that sat vacant throughout the entire church service.
I wasn’t completely surprised. As a kid, Caden had always had a hard time sitting still for church. He’d gotten in plenty of trouble for it too. But I was disappointed that he hadn’t shown up, if for nothing else, for his dad. And for me. After we’d met up at the park, I’d been busy helping my mom, and Caden had needed to stick close to home, to help out with things. I hadn’t seen him since.
The hillside gravesite was already crowded by the time Mom, Dad and I walked across the grass to the mound of dirt and rectangular ditch. It was silent enough to hear the traffic from the interstate far below as the Hearst pulled up to the site.
I held my dad’s hand and gripped Scooby with the other. We watched as they opened the back door. My tears flowed again. This was it. This was Grady’s final journey. The funeral was supposed to bring closure, but to me, it felt like grinding salt into a wound. My head was spinning like a toy top. One minute, I found myself convinced that there was just no damn way Grady was inside the coffin and the next, it felt as if my head would explode from thinking he was gone forever.
My mom let loose an angry sounding sigh. I looked up to see what had her upset. She had on her dark sunglasses, but I could see that she was staring straight at the Hearst. “It’s about time he showed up,” she muttered.
As the men appointed as pallbearers pulled the coffin from the Hearst, Caden’s tall, dark head towered over the rest of them. He had on dark sunglasses and he’d pulled on a black suit coat, borrowed from his dad, no doubt, over a white t-shirt and black jeans. He walked stiffly, as if in pain, with his share of the burden. My heart split in two watching as he helped position the coffin over the grave. He stopped and stared at his brother’s coffin for a long moment. Then he walked past the curious onlookers, without a word to anyone, and positioned himself far from the group but in hearing range of the pastor.
The gravesite ceremony was short and simple. While it felt better to be outside in the fresh air than inside the thick walls of the church, my legs wobbled through the entire thing. More than once, I glanced back at Caden. He had his arms crossed tightly as if that was the best way to hold himself together. Even through dark sunglasses, I could see him glance my direction as I looked back.
As the final thoughts and prayers were given, I squeezed my dad’s arm to get his attention. “I’m going to stand with Caden,” I whispered.
“That’s a good idea,” he replied.
I hiked through the maze of headstones to where Caden was standing. He glanced down at the Scooby toy and smiled weakly.
“Are you going back to your dad’s for the wake?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
He shook his head. “Thought I’d drive out to Poplar’s Beach.”
“Grady’s favorite place.” I looked down at Scooby and ran my palm over the soft fur as if it was a real dog.
“Want to go with me?”
I glanced back. The ceremony was over, but people lingered behind at the gravesite giving final hugs to each other before walking back to their cars. I caught my dad’s attention and waved to let him know I wouldn’t be going with them to the wake. My mom didn’t notice the gesture. That was probably best. I turned back to Caden and took hold of his hand.
Caden lifted his sunglasses onto his head and stared down at the gravesite, then he squeezed my hand and without another word he led me away from the funeral and toward his truck.
Chapter 6
Kenna
It was strange how completely normal it felt to be driving along the road with Caden, as if we’d never parted, as if he was still an eighteen-year-old driving Grady and me to the movies or the beach. After he’d just barely graduated high school, Caden’s dad had put plenty of pressure on him to ‘find a