One hour later
I knelt in front of a headstone, placing the colorful flowers against it. I brushed a hand across an oval portrait of a young, sweet-faced girl. My sweet girl. Part of me wanted to claw my fingers into the rich earth, crawl inside, and wrap my arms around her, joining her in eternal rest. I would give anything to run my hands through her silken hair one last time, hear a single syllable from her melodic voice, hold her in my arms again.
I wiped a tear from my eyelid, waved Finch over. “I want to tell you something.”
“Joss, you don’t have to—”
“I was driving, coming back a day early from a trip to my aunt’s house in St. George, Utah. Elena was in the back in her car seat. She was three years old. We had the music going. We were singing and laughing. My cell phone rang. I didn’t answer it, didn’t even look to see who was calling. I never answered my phone while I was driving. A minute later, it rang again. Then again two minutes after that. The person called four times in six minutes. I thought it was an emergency, so the next time, I answered it.”
“Who was calling?” Finch asked.
“My cousin Courtney.”
“The one who got married today?”
I nodded.
“She was upset,” I said. “Yelling into the phone. I couldn’t understand her.”
“What was she upset about?”
“She kept saying, ‘I have to tell you something. Don’t be mad at me, okay? Promise you won’t be upset with me when I tell you.’ I told her I was driving, asked if it could wait until I got home. We were so close. Ten more minutes and I’d be there.”
“What did she say?”
“She’d driven by my house earlier that day, saw my friend’s car there. She knew I was out of town and found it odd my friend would stop by when I wasn’t at home. Two hours later, my cousin drove by again. The car was still there. Courtney parked up the street, crept up to the window in front of the house, peeked inside. Lucas was naked on the sofa with my best friend, both of them all tangled up in each other.”
Finch bent down, placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve been through it myself. I’m sorry.”
“When Courtney told me what she saw, I was furious. The more she talked, the madder I became. I ended the call with her and called him.”
“Did he admit it to you?”
“He did. Honestly, he had no choice. When my cousin saw them together, she stormed into the house. He begged her not to tell me, and I think he hadn’t called because he was waiting around to see if she’d do it.”
“What did he say when you confronted him?”
“He asked how I felt about it, how I was doing. I kept thinking about our marriage, about how everything was fine one minute and the next it was over. I wasn’t speeding, but it was dark outside, and my eyes were so filled with tears I couldn’t see the road. The lines all blended together. In the midst of all that, Lucas was still yacking away.”
“I can’t imagine how difficult that was for you.”
We locked eyes, and I knew he knew what I was about to say was far more difficult than anything I’d already said. “I wanted to pull off the road, but I couldn’t. There were miles and miles of orange cones on the side of the road because of the construction, and the other lane was blocked off. One of the cones blew onto the highway. By the time I swerved, it was too late. The side of my car smacked into it. I jerked the steering wheel, and my car slipped off the freeway into the ditch. I can still hear the sound of Elena screaming.”
Finch took my hand in his.
“My head cracked against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed, and I blacked out,” I said. “When I came to, lights flashed all around me. I was inside an ambulance. I lifted my head, tried to see Elena. I asked one of the medics to bring me to her. As long as I live, I’ll never forget the look on the medic’s face when the officer walked over and told me Elena was dead.”
Silence passed between us for a moment, then Finch spoke. “I have witnessed death in all its forms. Even when it had to be done or couldn’t be avoided, I never found peace in it. You choose how you let it change you. What happened to your daughter was an accident. You can grieve, and you can hold on to all the good times, but you can’t stop living.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Some days I feel numb, like adrenaline pumping through my veins is the only thing that’s keeping me alive. Other days, I feel fine.”
“And today?”
“Today I feel blessed to have you in my life. I know I haven’t said it, Finch, but it means a lot to me that I can talk to you.”
He stretched out his hand, helping me get back on my feet. “You can always talk to me. I will always be here for you.”
“I know you will.”
“Ready to go say goodbye to your parents and head out?”
Two hours ago, I would have jumped at the offer. Now I realized there was only one way to face things. “Yeah, let’s stop there, and after, let’s stop at the church again. There’s a reception I’d like to go to.”