Chapter Thirty-One

On Monday morning, Wade wore a gray suit with a black tie and an ivory pocket square, looking dapper and mature. At least, that’s what his mom told him.

“I don’t know that you need to get all dressed up for this, Wade,” Mary said as they got into her Yaris. “It’s not like Dr. Emmett can see you.”

Wade thought to himself that the outfit wasn’t for Dr. Emmett’s benefit. That game was over.

The suit—which was one of his dad’s old ones—meant something else to Wade. To go to an adult event in his life, Wade tried on adult clothes, and the adult clothes fit him. That part mattered to Wade, as he focused on all that the day would bring.

The fact that he looked like a million bucks while attending his ex’s funeral, presided over by his other ex’s disapproving father, was just a bonus.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me to this thing?” Wade asked his mother, who scoffed a little but kept her eyes on the road.

“No, honey, I’ve said my goodbyes.”

There was a silence after that. It grew more and more awkward with each mile until Mary mercifully put on her radio. Some jazz song was playing, light piano and a mournful saxophone.

“What’s this?” Wade asked his mother, but one glance at the radio let him know that the song was “In a Sentimental Mood.”

Wade leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. Within minutes, Mary had pulled up to their destination and nudged Wade.

“This is your stop,” she said to him. “Let me know how it goes today.” They were at the body shop. Wade’s blue Prius had a new window.

He got out of her car and shut the door, mouthing to her that he would be in touch.

Mary nodded and headed toward the hospital.

Within a few minutes, Wade had paid for the repairs and received his keys again. He looked at his phone to check the time. It was 9:30 a.m. The funeral was at 11 a.m. His other appointment was at 1 p.m.

Wade got into his Prius, started the ignition and, as usual, heard nothing. The car that had been through so much remained silent about most of it. Wade figured he should follow its example once he arrived at the church. It only took ten minutes to reach the destination.

Instead of sitting and waiting in the parking lot, Wade got out of the Prius and walked inside the church. He walked past the sanctuary and past Rev. Lancaster’s office, not stopping until he arrived at the daycare.

Wade motioned to one of the workers to get her attention, then smiled.

“Jessa Lancaster should’ve left a message with you this morning when she dropped off Lydie,” Wade whispered gently to the woman. “She and I talked this weekend about it. I told her I would be here.”

The daycare worker brightened. “Yes sir,” she said.

Then she disappeared into the nursery for a minute, then returned with Lydie, all wrapped up in a little pink blanket, gently fussy. But once Lydie was in Wade’s arms, looking into his eyes, she stopped crying. Wade smiled at his little girl. The daycare worker handed Wade a bottle, then she left the father and daughter alone for a while.

Δ

The funeral for Max Emmett was small. His parents sat in the front row, dressed in black and looking unaffected. Max’s uncle sat with them. His face was pale, and he looked stunned.

There was a smattering of other friends, little pockets of folks gathered in the pews. There was some muttering before the service started, but most of the faces seemed anxious to get it over with, from what Wade could see.

Max’s body had been cremated, per his personal wishes. Wade knew from his mother’s connections that there had been no autopsy.

Before the service started, Wade, sitting in the aisle by himself in a row closer to the back, felt a tap-tap-tap on his shoulder. He turned and saw, as he expected, Celeste, the only person who would talk to him at this moment.

She squeezed his shoulder and whispered to him kindly, “How you doing, baby? You all right?”

“I’m fine,” Wade whispered back.

“Really?” she asked, a little too surprised.

“Yeah, I thought it might be weird to come to this,” Wade said. “But it felt—I don’t know—it felt like the right thing to do.”

“I get you,” Celeste whispered.

“How about you?” he asked her. They were friends now, he guessed.

“I think I’ll be OK,” Celeste said. “Max’s business insurance is going to cover my paycheck for a little while. His parents just told me that a little bit ago, which is cool because I was in a little bit of a panic.”

“Oh?” Wade asked.

“Yeah, apparently he had a plan in place for sudden death.”

Wade turned in his pew to look in Celeste’s eyes. Sometimes, that woman’s words had layers.

“Is that a joke?” Wade asked her.

“I don’t make jokes at funerals,” she said.

Then she startled Wade by getting up and moving herself to his pew, motioning for him to scooch over. He followed her command. Celeste sat down next to him. She was wearing a nice black dress with white gardenias in the pattern.

She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “You’re not the only one of his boys to come to this. Did you notice that?”

Wade turned to her with a start.

“What?” he asked, his tone a little higher.

Celeste nodded toward another skinny young man, blond, probably about 17.

“That’s Christopher,” she said. “He used to come by the office all the time for cleanings a couple years back. I had no idea what was happening then. But look at him. He’s being all weird.”

Wade looked at the boy’s manner. Christopher was trembling, looking mostly down at the program. His leg kept twitching nervously.

Celeste then directed Wade’s attention a few pews behind them. Wade turned briefly to consider the young man, then turned quickly around.

“Jacob Myers,” Celeste said to Wade. “He’s younger than you are. He was last year, I think. I can’t be sure. But he switched dentists. I mean, why would you come to your old dentist’s wake?”

Wade was stunned, unsure what to think, until Celeste filled in the blanks for him.

“I’m sorry I showed him that video, Wade,” she said. “I didn’t mean to get you mixed up with that man. I should’ve done better by you.”

Wade stared ahead. He couldn’t look at her.

“It’s good that Max is gone, Wade,” she said. “Don’t you worry.”

Trying to figure out anything to say, Wade just muttered, “I’m sorry you’re out of a job.” Celeste just sighed.

“I’ll find work, Wade,” she said. “There are lots of other dentists.”

Δ

The service was done quickly. Rev. Lancaster really didn’t know Dr. Emmett well enough to say much beyond the usual psalms. And the Emmetts didn’t do any readings. The whole thing lasted maybe 20 minutes before Rev. Lancaster invited anyone who wanted to share memories of Max up to the front of the sanctuary to share.

Awkwardly, no one rose to say anything in memoriam.

The silence surprised Rev. Lancaster, who kept asking “Anyone?” for 45 agonizing seconds. For a moment, Wade and the reverend made eye contact. The reverend looked puzzled, and, from the pulpit, his mouth started to ask Wade a question like “What are you doing here?” But Wade looked down before the question even formed, avoiding the minister’s consideration.

Wade had nothing to say about Max. After parting words, Rev. Lancaster told everyone that coffee and snacks would be available in the fellowship hall.

Wade arrived at the therapist Julia’s office at 12:45 p.m. to fill out the paperwork. He had the insurance information that his mother had copied for him so that he could attend the appointment alone. The gray suit made the receptionist and the other people in the waiting area treat him like a grown-up, which made him smile.

He went to the Keurig station and grabbed a chamomile pod and some Splenda. He wanted to make sure he was at his calmest before meeting this lady. Then he sat and filled out the forms himself.

At 1:04 p.m., a couple exited Julia’s counseling room, and Wade grew a little bit anxious. He had no idea what to tell this person. Like, where would he even start? His temper? The baby? The dentist? The murder stuff?

Julia poked her head out of the counseling room.

“Wade Harrell?” she asked. He nodded.

“You ready?”

Wade rose from the chair and entered the room, which was softly lit with lots of lamps and had a lot of full bookshelves. Wade had expected there to be a couch, like the cliché he’d seen on TV, but there were lots of places to sit, not just couches.

“The room’s a bit big,” Julia said to him. “I use it for group therapy sometimes. But I find that it gives people options, as well. Do you want to sit by the window?”

Wade said he didn’t care, then selected a comfy chair by the window. Julia sat opposite him and smiled. She was a thirtysomething brunette lady in a baggy pink sweater and a long skirt. She flipped to a blank page in her notebook and wrote down his name and the date. She seemed nice. But Wade figured that was probably the point.

“So, Wade,” Julia began.

“Yeah?”

“What brings you here today?”

“I don’t know,” Wade said. “My mom made this appointment.”

“Do you want to be here?”

He paused.

“Yeah,” Wade said.

“Well, why do you want to be here?” Julia asked him.

Wade considered for a moment everything that had bugged him, everything that he had been through. He missed his dad. He didn’t feel in control. Wade had been at Jessa’s and Max’s disposal, and he was tired and confused. He just turned 17, and everything was already chaos. And it had to stop. All of the chaos had to stop. Wade had to find some way. He looked in the therapist’s eyes.

“I want to survive,” he said.

THE END

Δ