* *
Kelli is dead. The phrase pulsed through my mind as I drove over to Max and Ava’s school. My hands shook and my breaths were shallow and quick. I tried to imagine what Victor might feel in this moment. The ragged grief in his voice over the phone had sparked my own. I couldn’t believe she was gone. What could have happened? How is someone there one moment and just . . . absent the next? I tried to fight it, but anxiety bubbled up inside me. I didn’t know how to get through this moment. I tried to focus on the road, to keep my eyes on the brake lights on the car in front of me, but tears blurred my vision. Not wanting to cause an accident, I pulled to the side of the road and called my mother, overwhelmed by the desire to talk with her. The phone rang and rang. “Come on, Mom,” I whispered. “Please pick up.” When she didn’t answer, I left her a brief message, then quickly called my brother, Sam, next.
“What’s up, sis?” he said. I could see him sitting behind his desk at the AIDS Support Center, where he worked as a client counselor, his wiry red hair cropped close to his head, his green eyes bright and smiling. As a child, he’d been called “Opie” by his playmates; today, he still possessed that same nerdy, endearing quality. When he’d come out to me as a teenager, I worried about the difficult road he might face, but as far as I knew, he hadn’t experienced any kind of blatant prejudice because of his sexuality and, at twenty-four, was actually in a very happy partnership with a slightly older man named Wade.
My voice rattled in my throat as I told him about Kelli. He let out a low whistle. “Oh my god, honey,” he said. “That’s so awful.”
“I know. I’m just . . . blown away.” I sniffed and swallowed hard. “And now I’m on my way to pick up the kids and I don’t know what to tell them. I’ve never been in a situation like this. I don’t know how to act.”
“I don’t think there’s any specific way you should act, sweetie.” He paused. “You don’t have any idea how she died?”
“No,” I said, then pushed my lips together to fight a sob I felt building in my throat. “Victor didn’t have any details yet and he’s the one who should talk to them, but I’m going to see them.” I paused again. “They’re not stupid, you know? They’re going to sense something’s wrong. I never pick them up from school.”
“Can you play dumb?” Sam asked.
“Maybe.” My throat began to close up again, and I couldn’t stop it. The sobs I’d been fighting came hard and fast, filling my chest with sharp, painful edges in every breath. “Sorry,” I finally managed to gasp. “I don’t know why this is hitting me so hard. It’s not like we were friends. But I just . . . I just . . .” I trailed off, unable to find the words to describe how I felt.
“Oh, Gracie,” Sam said. “Don’t apologize, honey. It’s tragic, what’s happened. Of course you’re upset. You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t. And you love Victor and the kids. You’re feeling their pain.”
I shook my head, as though he could see me, then took a deep breath, only to exhale it slowly. “I’m scared,” I whispered. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Sweetie,” he said, his voice swelling with concern. “Think about what you do every day. Everything you handle for your clients. You’ll be fine, I know it.”
I smiled weakly. He was an old soul, my brother. “Thanks, Sammy. I love you.”
“Love you too,” he said. “Call me when you can.”
I hung up, then scavenged for a tissue in my purse to blow my nose. It suddenly struck me that telling the kids about our engagement the same weekend they’d learn their mother had died was not exactly perfect timing. I knew this much about having kids in your life—their needs came first, no matter what. I quickly took the ring off my finger, staring at it again for a moment before slipping it into the zippered compartment in my wallet, suffering a sharp pang of sadness with the act. I prayed it wouldn’t get lost.
After another deep breath, I shot a quick text off to Melody asking her to call me. She didn’t respond right