Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Mom folds the note I gave her in half. “I know you weren’t writing me a love letter. What are you writing? If I can ask?”
I toss her the notebook. “I’m writing down all of my memories of her.” I shrug as Mom glances through the pages. “I think some people are afraid of moving on because they don’t want to forget. I’ll admit, I don’t want to move on without her, but I have a job, a daughter, a mother, and a brother. I have a life even if it’s a life with a Josephine Watts-sized hole in it. And whether I want it to or not, life is moving forward. Some days I feel tied to a treadmill. I don’t want to move on, but I don’t have a choice.” I take the notebook back when she hands it to me. “In forty … fifty years, I might need some of these memories. I don’t want them to fade to the point that I don’t recall them.”
Mom moves to the side of the bed and bends down to hug me. “You’re everything your father wasn’t. You are a good man and just … a good human.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
March.
April.
May.
“You came.” Savannah smiles and hugs me.
“Of course.” I peer at the crowd seated in the botanical garden for Josie’s celebration of life while Savannah whispers, “We’re not giving up on a miracle.” She releases me and squeezes my hand. “Friends and family need this. We’ll have a different kind of celebration when she’s home again.”
I hide my reaction behind a neutral expression. It’s been two months since I’ve seen Savannah and Isaac. The last time, they visited to go through some things at Josie’s house. I was under the impression that they had accepted what I’ve said all along … Josie’s dead.
“Okay.” That’s it. That’s my best response. “Um … I didn’t expect to see so many people here.” I narrow my eyes and survey the crowd. There are people from school that I haven’t seen since senior year. People who were not friends of Josie’s. It’s … weird.
“They’re here for you too. A lot of people wanted to pay their respects to you after your father died. Now they can do it for both your father and Josie.”
Yep. So weird.
“Would you like to speak? I put your name on the program, but if you can’t do it, we’ll just skip over you.”
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. I clear my throat. “Sure.” I’m not doing it for Josie. This would drive her crazy. She hated being the center of attention, except with me. She wanted to be my center of attention. And she was … just my everything. I’m doing this for her parents, to help give them closure I’m not sure they’re really looking for yet.
I take a seat in the front row. A collage of photos resides on wood stands lining both sides of the podium. Josie’s parents were married in this very spot. Two years later, Savannah was raped on their anniversary. There’s too much to wrap my head around in this surreal moment.
Josie’s dad speaks first. I tune him out. Then her mom speaks, causing everyone to reach for tissues. Except me. I’m too busy thinking about my life with Josie. Thinking about what I’m going to say.
“Next, we’re going to hear from Colten Mosley, Josie’s fiancé,” Savannah says through sniffles.
Am I her fiancé if she’s dead?
I give Savannah a hug while she steps away from the podium.
I’m not the best at winging it, but they didn’t leave me with much choice.
Clearing my throat, my gaze slides over the faces of the crowd. “The day we moved into the house across the street from the Watts, my dad told me he met Chief Watts. And then he told me there was a boy named Joe who was my age. I was ecstatic because I hated being the new kid starting school with no friends. I had the whole summer to become Joe’s best bud. Then I discovered Joe was Josephine. And …” I smile, shaking my head. “I was really conflicted. She was a girl. That was disappointing. It was also the day my life changed in ways I never could have imagined.
“Josie poured me a glass of milk and offered me the best chocolate chip cookie I had ever tasted. Then she spent the next eight years threading herself through my heart one stitch at a time. She held me together when my world fell apart around me. Our love was unlike any love I have ever experienced. Unlike any love I have ever seen or any love written with words … or even in the stars. It’s not a father’s love. It’s not a son’s love. It’s not even a husband’s love. It’s that feeling you get when everything is dark, and you can’t even see yourself. Then …” My voice cracks, and I pull in a shaky breath. “She slides her hand into mine and squeezes it.” I shake my head, glancing at the smattering of puffy clouds in the blue sky. “And just like that … I felt seen.” Closing my eyes, I picture her. That slow growing smile of hers. That knowing smile.