"There should be rain."
I looked around at the crowd of people huddled inside the small church and again thought the words.
“There should be rain!”
I looked at the preacher saying fantastic things about the person up in the casket and tried to pay attention, but the anger was consuming.
“How could it be sunny outside?” I thought to myself. “On a day like today, the world should stop turning. Doesn’t the universe know what we lost? How can it go on as though nothing happened…like it didn’t matter?”
I couldn’t take it anymore. Prayer or no prayer, I had to get out of that place. I stomped down the church aisle feeling the eyes burn through me as I passed, but I didn’t care.
Before the doors had even closed behind me, I pulled the crumpled pack of cigarettes out of my purse and slid one into my mouth, reminding myself for the third time that week that I had quit six months ago. It was bent, but it didn’t matter. I rifled through my purse in frustration, trying to find the damn lighter, but it evaded my grasp.
I threw my purse down in frustration, luckily thinking better of kicking it. I crossed my arms and glared at the sun. My eyes burned, but I didn’t care. What nerve did the sun have showing up here today? It should be dark and cloudy and dreary because that’s what the day deserved.
Suddenly, my attention was taken away from the sun and to a man that now stood beside me, holding a lighter in my direction. I knew I must look like a mess with my bent cigarette and discarded purse. I hadn’t even managed to run a brush through my hair that morning, but it didn’t matter.
“It should be raining,” I said as I used his lighter to light my cigarette at last.
He lit a cigarette of his own before answering me.
“He always liked the sun,” he replied, squinting as he looked out into the brightness.
I stared into the parking lot for a moment before finally commenting on his remark.
“He once told me that a day filled with sunshine is like a shot of happiness from the universe.”
The man looked at me out of the corner of his eye and said, “That’s nice.”
“It’s bullshit is what it is,” I said through gritted teeth.
He wasn’t fazed at my cursing like most men usually were. Instead, he took a puff on his cigarette and continued gazing out into the parking lot.
“He was going to change the world, you know,” he finally said, a bit of sadness flickering through his voice.
I immediately felt tears well up in my eyes. I quickly took another drag on my cigarette to keep from breaking down…again.
Before we could talk more, the church doors opened, and the casket was pulled out by the pallbearers. I scoffed at the look of it. The formal piece chosen by his parents was a hideous representation of his personality.
“Brown…and brass handles,” I thought. “He would have hated it.”
My new friend seemed to be thinking the same thing because he also glared at the casket in distaste.
It wasn’t long before the people in attendance began shuffling out of the church. I saw his mom dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, his sister, his college roommate, even his boss. I glared at the string of girls from high school…all dressed in black, tears streaming down their faces.
“Fakes,” I muttered, and the man next to me looked at his feet and smiled.
The hearse loaded, the family cars in place, everything seemed to be in motion to carry him to his final resting place. Still, my feet made no move to follow the crowd. Somehow, as real as the past few days were, I couldn’t make my mind accept that he was really gone. Forever.
“He was going to change the world,” I whispered to myself, allowing the words to circle through my brain like a warm, comfortable blanket.
The man next to me finally threw his cigarette down on the church steps and stomped it with his dress shoe.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Even though I didn’t know him from Adam, for some reason, I felt as though I could trust him. I hadn’t realized how cold it was outside that day until after we had been walking for a couple of blocks. My toes and fingers began to grow cold, but I welcomed the pain. It was more comfortable than that damn sun beating down on us.
I again glared up at it and muttered, “There should be rain.”
He ignored me and kept walking. I followed, not caring where he took me. Suddenly, he stopped. A bell rang overhead as he pulled open a door, and we entered a dark building. I quickly realized that it was a bar and smiled at the man in appreciation. It was empty, naturally, save for the bored-looking bartender.
He looked at us with a surprised expression. Apparently, 2 p.m. on a Tuesday is a little early to be visiting this establishment, but he didn’t complain.
“What’ll you have?” he asked.
“We’ll take two whiskeys,” my companion prompted without asking me.
“Coming right up,” the bartender said, “Have a seat…do you want me to start a tab?”
The man whipped out his wallet and tossed his credit card on the counter. It looked like it was going to be a drinking day for both of us.
The bartender scooped up his credit card and plunked our drinks down in front of us. The man downed his in seconds and slammed the glass back on the counter. I, on the other hand, took a smaller sip. It burned my throat, but again, I welcomed the pain. I took a few more sips, finishing off the last of it just as the bartender was bringing another round.
This time, I let the glass sit in front of me untouched, my eyes focusing on the ice as it attempted to melt.
“So, how did you know John,” the man finally asked as he took a quick sip of his drink.
I cringed at the sound of his name. I wasn’t ready to talk about him in the past tense, but it looked like I didn’t have a say in the matter. He was taken too suddenly for me even to begin to process how to hold on to him a little longer.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I managed to say, “We’ve been friends since we were kids..graduated school together. He was one of my best friends.”
The man nodded.
“I met him on a trip to Bali,” he said.
“Bali?” I asked. “Really?”
“Yep,” he said, swirling the whiskey around in his drink. “It was just happenstance, really. We were staying in the same hotel. Naturally, I was there to drink and party. He was feeding kids at the orphanage.”
I smiled.
“That sounds just like him,” I said.
He smiled in return.
“Yep, but it didn’t matter if we weren’t there for the same thing. He had this gravity around him that made everything and everyone pull toward him. You know what I mean?”
I nodded without saying anything, tears again filling my eyes. We sat in silence for a moment, sipping our drinks and fighting off the sadness. The bartender quietly kept our drinks filled, a look of understanding in his eyes.
“I just hope that he didn’t suffer,” the man finally said.
“He didn’t,” I whispered. “I was there. It was quick. One minute he was here and the next he wasn’t.”
“Oh, you’re Anna, aren’t you?” he asked. “I’m Robert. He talked a lot about you on our trips. After Bali, I tried not to take any trips unless he was a part of them.”
I nodded.
“Yeah, he talked about you a lot too,” I managed to say.
We sat in silence for another moment.
“I feel like I failed him,” I stammered. “I should have been able to do something to save him.”
Robert shook his head, “No, Anna. It was an aneurysm. There wasn’t anything you could have done to save him.”
“I know,” I said as tears began to stream down my face. “But I can still see him walking toward me smiling that silly goofy grin of his. Then, his smile evaporated, and he just slid to the ground. I’m pretty sure he was gone before I could even move.”
Robert took another drink and put his arm around me.
“Living without him is sure going to be hard, isn’t it?” he asked.
I couldn’t even manage to nod.
“I know my trips are going to be different.” He said, shaking his head. “Everything will seem quite boring without John there to liven things up a bit…and keep me out of trouble. I always seem to be finding some.”
Robert smiled to himself as a memory floated through his mind. I smiled too.
“He was good at keeping all of us out of trouble. Always knew the right thing to say and do whenever I was about to make a huge mistake with my life. He even talked me out of a horrible relationship once.”
“Did he?” Robert said, looking at me quizzically, laughing a bit. “He was always HELPING me find the ladies.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Yes,” I said. “John was good at that too. Always had a new girl on his arm every time I saw him. And, they always got prettier.”
Robert laughed.
“You guys were close,” he said. “Did you ever date?”
“Hell, no!” I said in surprise. “We grew up next door to each other. He and his sister were my childhood playmates. We were always getting in trouble together. He was like a brother to me.”
Robert nodded his head. We talked for a while longer, nursing the drinks the bartender happily refilled.
“I tell you what, Anna,” Robert eventually said. “I’m not leaving town for a few days. How about we meet back here tomorrow. At least we can get through the first few days together. What do you say?”
I managed a small smile.
“I think I would like that,” I said.
Robert closed out his tab, and we walked out the door together.
“Did you leave a car at the church?” he asked.
“Nah, I took an Uber,” I replied.
He nodded, we agreed on a time to meet tomorrow and ordered a ride for us both. When the cars arrived, we gave each other a hug that could only come from the shared sorrow we felt. Tears again warmed my cheeks, and I angrily shoved them off my face with my hands and stepped into the waiting car.
For a few moments, I allowed myself to pretend it wasn’t true. That I would arrive at John’s parents’ home and see him sitting on the couch as if it had all been a joke. I imagined the goofy smile that would spread across his face as he saw my surprise and the warmth of his arms as he wrapped me up in one of his signature bear hugs.
I had always hated those bear hugs. So, restrictive, and you never knew they were coming. Usually, they arrived at the most inopportune times, like when you were in the middle of a conversation with someone or trying to walk to the bathroom…what I wouldn’t give to have just one more.
“So,” I suddenly heard my driver say. “How’s it going today?”
His words brought me back to reality. John wasn’t waiting for me. He wasn’t even on this planet anymore. Again, I looked outside and cursed the damn sun for daring to show its face today. Sighing, I turned my attention to the driver who was looking at me quizzically in the rearview mirror.
“It hasn’t been a great day for me,” I started. “So, I’d appreciate it if you could just get me to my destination.”
The driver nodded and turned his focus back on the road in front of him for a moment. But it wasn’t long before I noticed him glancing back at me again. He glanced at my clothes, my tear-stained cheeks, and the crumpled memorial booklet in my hand.
Softly, he cleared his throat and said, “Who did you lose?”
Immediately, I felt my eyes start to glare at the man, but something made me stop. I knew John wouldn’t have wanted this reaction from me after his funeral. He would have expected me to be strong…and kind. I couldn’t stomach being kind at the moment, but I could settle on hospitable, I guess.
“An old friend,” I managed to say.
The driver nodded.
“I lost my sister last year,” he said. “Bad car wreck. A man ran a stop sign and hit her. She never saw it coming. Left two little kids behind. My wife and I look after them now.”
I felt my heart soften.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That must be hard.”
“It gets a little easier every day,” he said, looking back at the road again. “Her kids are doing all right…most days anyway.”
We rode in silence for a moment.
“John was special, you know?” I said, knowing full well that he didn’t. “He did things. Everywhere he went and everyone he met was better because of him.”
“My sister was always the sunshine in the room,” he said, sadly. “My world got a lot darker after she was taken from us.”
I nodded in understanding. Before we could talk more, the driver pulled to a stop. I pushed a few buttons on my phone, adding a substantial tip to my fare and thanked him for the ride. I started to get out but hesitated.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked him.
“Of course,” he replied.
“What makes it easier?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing, unfortunately. Time keeps moving, the world keeps spinning, and we aren’t given what we need to move on properly. Besides, when someone sweeps in and makes such an impact on your life, like my sister and your friend, there’s a hole that can’t get filled up, no matter what you do. Time does make it hurt less, however,”
I put my hand on top of his and squeezed it a little before getting out of the car and closing the door behind me. He waved as he drove away, and I knew he was thinking about his sister as I was thinking about John.
Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the house in front of me. I knew every nook and cranny of the old farmhouse. At least as much as I knew my own parents’ home next door. The old tire swing John and I used to play on as kids still hung in the tree in the front yard. I could almost see him in it now, spinning us around and around until we were both ready to throw up.
Tears again filled my eyes.
“Damn it, John,” I muttered to myself. “Why did you have to go? We had so much life to live together. Eventually, I would find someone and get married…well, you would find someone and get married, at least. I probably would end up with a couple of kids with no dad. But, you…you would have been the perfect dad. We would have had barbecues, sports teams, holidays together. Your wife and I would plan birthday parties together…you would practically adopt my kids…”
My thoughts trailed off. I couldn’t continue imagining a life that wasn’t ever going to happen. I took a few steps toward the front door and stopped again as another memory hit me with the full weight of its punch.
I was playing tag in the yard with John and his sister, digging for treasure in the old sandbox out back. The memories brought a smile to my face but made my heartache at the same time. Not thinking another thought, I stormed up the front steps and threw the front door open.
“Too many people,” I thought to myself. “John didn’t know all these people.”
The small, crowded farmhouse was almost too much for me to bear. Distant relatives and friends that I couldn’t even begin to put a name to crammed themselves inside. My eyes zeroed in on the handful of people I knew, and I made a beeline for their comfort while trying to ignore the snippets of conversation I could hear around me.”
“He was sooo young!” one woman proclaimed as if that mattered when death came calling.
“At least his parents still have his sister. He could have been an only child, and they could have no children…or worse, no grandchildren prospects,” another remarked. I grumbled curse words under my breath, causing several eyes to turn in my direction disapprovingly.
One little boy looked up at me with wide eyes as I passed. I stuck out my tongue, and he shied away.
The preacher from the service had his arm wrapped around John’s mother, whispering comforting words in her ear. I wanted to go outside and spin on the tire swing until I threw up.
John’s aunt was bustling around the kitchen, trying to keep busy.
“Thank you so much for that beautiful service,” she said in a shrill voice directed at the preacher. “I’m sure John would have just loved all the kind things you had to say.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” I thought to myself. It was as if these people didn’t even know him. John wouldn’t have wanted all these people in his mom’s house, saying fake beautiful things about him when they didn’t even really know him. He would have wanted a party, a celebration of his life…not this!
John’s mom sensed my presence and quickly wrapped me in a hug, crushing her used tissues into the back of my dress. I could feel her tears fall on my shoulder as I returned her embrace. After a soggy moment, she pulled back and looked me up and down with a soft smile touching her lips.
“I didn’t see you at the gravesite,” she said.
I shook my head.
“I couldn’t…” I started before my voice caught in my throat. “I didn’t want to watch them put him in that hole. He doesn’t belong in there.”
She smiled sadly and again wrapped me in a hug.
“I know, sweetheart,” she said, comforting me while I should have been comforting her. “I know.”
Throughout the next few hours, I tried to ignore the nauseating conversations that went on around me. Why can’t people ever find the right things to say at funerals? Why does everything have to be so offensive?
The gaggle of girls from the funeral stood in the corner drinking sweet tea and dabbing fake tears from their faces. I imagined myself walking over and ripping the phony hair off their head. They never knew John. Never spent real time with him. Why were they here?
Finally, my anger reached a boiling point when I heard someone tell John’s mom that he was in a better place.
“I don’t care if he’s in a better place,” I said through gritted teeth. “I want him in this place. I want you people to be gone and John to be here.”
Every eye in the room turned to gaze at me in shock, but I didn’t care. I was done being nice.
“John,” I thought to myself as I glared at a perfect stranger over his errant comment, “I already used up my nice card for the day. You’re going to have to let me have this one.”
Luckily, before I could completely lose my temper, John’s sister, Sara, stepped in to save the day.
“Anna,” she said softly, “Why don’t we get some air.”
By air, she meant open a window in John’s bedroom and not talk to other guests in the house. She took me by the elbow and pulled me up the stairs with her. Both of us stopped when we reached John’s old room and looked at each other.
She put her hand on the knob but hesitated for a brief second. We both gazed at the small sign on the door that John had added as a pre-teen.
“Keep out!” it read. “John’s room…no sisters allowed!!”
She smiled and ran her other hand across the words and pushed the door open.
All I could think about was how quiet it was inside. Anytime I had visited John before, he would always have music playing. You never knew what it would be, but you knew John would include music into the mix. One week you might hear Sinatra, the next Tupac, the next a country music station, but there was always something.
A small stack of records still sat in the corner by his old record player. I had never understood why he didn’t get with the modern times and invest in CDs or an iPod or something, but now that he was gone, there wasn’t anything I wanted more in the world than to put one of those old records on and let him spin me around the room.
Naturally, being such a lover of music, he was also a superb dancer. At prom our senior year, my date had two left feet and was afraid of his own shadow. It had taken him three months to ask me out, and then he didn’t even want to dance with me. I remember watching John and his date swirl around the dancefloor as I sulked at our table.
But John wouldn’t have it. He was there to make sure everyone was having a good time. And, if that meant alternating a song dancing with me and then with his girlfriend, that’s what was going to happen. I remember thinking about how sore his feet must have been at the end of the night.
That’s who John was. The guy who loved everyone and didn’t meet an enemy. The guy who would have changed the world, as Robert had said. Again, I felt myself growing angry. How was the world ever supposed to get better if the universe kept taking all the people who were destined to improve it?
I plunked down in a huff on John’s bed, hating everything. Sara lowered herself to sit beside me and put her hand on mine.
“How can we do life without him in it?” she asked sadly, her voice cracking as tears flowed down her cheeks.
I put my arms around her and tried to replicate one of John’s hugs, knowing full well that I was failing substantially.
“I don’t know, Sara,” I said as tears of my own started to fall. “I don’t know.”
Sara brushed the tears off her cheeks and stood up, looking around her big brother’s room as if she were seeing it for the first time. John had his own apartment, so most of the belongings were leftovers from his childhood.
She pulled out a small box from under his bed and sat on the floor.
“Do you remember this?” she asked me.
I smiled and said, “Of course, I do. That’s his treasure box!”
We both laughed, and Sara flipped the lid open and began rifling through the contents. She pulled out an old baseball card and a trophy from third grade. Next came his prom ticket and graduation tassel. A couple of pictures of the three of us and his parents were also there. Sara laughed when she pulled out a picture of John’s favorite actress.
We both took turns picking up the old treasure items and reminiscing about our childhoods until we couldn’t handle any more of the memories. Sara packed everything back up in the box and carefully slid it back under John’s bed. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be leaving this room any time soon.
Tears began falling from Sara’s eyes onto the rug, so I jumped up and began flipping through the small stacks of records. I was happy to see that a copy of John’s favorite album remained in a pile. It was an old, beat-up version with visible scratches, but it would fulfill its purpose for us.
Sara’s mood immediately began to lift the moment the first notes started playing. I pulled her to her feet, and we swirled around the room, laughing for the next half-hour, ignoring the crackles and skips that came with listening to the old album. We listened to every note and danced to every song, and I finally began to feel as though we were celebrating John’s life the right way.
When the last song finally ended, we clung to each other, a combination of sorrow, happiness, and nostalgia feeling our hearts and minds. We stayed that way for a moment, sharing our sadness before finally rejoining the others downstairs.
Many of the extra people were gone when we came back. Only a few stragglers remained. I spied John’s aunt still bustling around the kitchen, the preacher starting to eye the exit and a few other relatives who were taking up space on the sofa in the living room, trying not to nod off.
John’s mom’s eyes lit up when she saw us come back into the room.
“Sara,” she said, “make sure Anna gets something to eat, will you?”
I glanced at the selection of casseroles on the kitchen counter. Knowing full well that I wasn’t hungry, I loaded up a plate with a few morsels of the unidentifiable foods. Sitting at the table, I dug a pea out of one the clumps of food and speared it with my fork.
“Whoever thought that a casserole was the right thing to bring to a funeral?” I wondered. It seemed so odd that one would even care to think about eating after someone dies, but apparently, our bodies still must function somehow.
I poked a few more questionable items on my plate, ate a few nibbles, but eventually threw the bulk of what I had away. By the time I finished, more people had left. Looking around, I realized that it was down to the few close members of John’s family. Sighing, I began to feel a bit more comfortable.
“Anna, can you stay tonight?” Sara pleaded. “I…I’m not ready for it to be quiet in here yet.”
I took her hand in mine and nodded. Her eyes filled with relief.
“Great, I still have those sleeping bags that we used to use as kids,” she said, smiling slightly. “Do you think we will still fit inside?”
I laughed a little.
“Only if I don’t have to use the My Little Pony one,” I replied.
A genuine smile formed on her face, and it was as if I could physically see a bit of tension leave her body. The day had threatened to suck out all the joy in our lives forever, but at least there was a glimmer of a piece of hope still hanging around.
“Maybe tomorrow WILL be better,” I thought.
I followed Sara upstairs, and she pulled a pair of pajamas out of a drawer and handed them to me. I pulled them on as she pulled the sleeping bags out of the closet and laid them on the floor of her childhood room. I couldn’t help but notice the astronaut themed bag that she had left behind.
We said little to each other as we busied ourselves with bedtime preparations. She found me a charger for my phone; I retrieved an old lamp that had fallen off her desk and flipped on the switch. The light was a bit dim, but it gave us the warm glow we needed to make us feel safe.
After we slipped inside the sleeping bags, I stared at the ceiling, willing myself to begin to feel tired, knowing sleep was going to be difficult tonight. I could feel Sara doing the same.
“Anna?” she finally said after a few moments of silence.
“Hmm?”
“Do you remember that time John wanted to build the treehouse?”
I smiled as the memory of his 12 year old self with a pile of warped lumber and rusted screws trying to convince us girls that he could get it done filled my mind. He didn’t convince us in the least.
“Thank God your dad stepped in and stopped him,” I said with a grin.
Sara laughed.
“He would still probably be out there trying to build that thing if he hadn’t.”
We both laughed and looked at each other happily.
“What about that time he fell out of the tree and broke his arm?” I asked.
It was Sara’s turn to laugh this time.
“Mom was SOOO mad at him!” she said giggling. “She had been telling him for weeks to stop climbing trees, but he wouldn’t listen.”
We laughed some more and shared some more memories. Before long, I could feel sleep begin to overtake me and noticed Sara’s eyes start to droop as well.
“Goodnight, Sara,” I whispered, but got no response. I watched her sleep for a few moments before smiling softly and closing my eyes for the night.
As I suspected, my dreams were not pleasant ones. John overwhelmed them, of course. He was in a boat rowing out into the ocean. But a massive storm was coming, and waves were crashing all-around him. I could feel myself screaming at him to stop…to come back, but he wouldn’t listen.
I watched in horror as he rowed and rowed through the waves before finally looking back at me and grinning the same way he did that day on the street. As the waves overtook his boat, I wrenched myself awake, sweat pooling around me, soaking my pajamas and the sleeping bag.
I looked out the window. There was that damn sun again. In protest, I stomped over to the window and jerked the shade closed in satisfaction. Sara had already made her way downstairs to help her aunt start some breakfast.
Still, in a foul mood, I grumbled all the way downstairs, realizing that my older body didn’t react as well to sleeping on the hard floor as it did when I was a kid. My knees crackled, and my back popped all the way down the stairs. After nodding good morning to Sara, her mom and her aunt, I fished a bottle of pain relievers from my purse, shook two out in my hand and downed them by drinking directly out of the faucet in the kitchen.
Sara’s aunt clearly didn’t approve of this, but I didn’t care. She shook her head at me disapprovingly, and I thought about sticking my tongue out at her like I had the boy from the day before but thought better of it.
Breakfast mostly happened in silence. It was too hard to stomach the day after putting a loved one in the ground, let alone begin to think about any facet of a normal life again at this point. I thought about showering but quickly realized I didn’t have any clean clothes, so I decided to skip the nuisance until I was home. Bidding adieu to John’s family one last time, I promised to visit them soon and stepped out into the blinding sunshine.
“Oh, hello again,” I yelled at the sky. “Nice of you to still be shining up there like everything is all right or something. I would hate for you to disappear for a day or anything.”
This time the Uber driver drove mostly in silence. He did ask a bit about me, how I liked the city, had I seen any good movies lately, etc., but there wasn’t a memorable conversation about his dead sister and how he was moving on. There were just empty words…meaningless, forgettable conversation. I long for life to pause for a moment so I could process. But it didn’t. The world kept spinning, and that DAMN sun kept shining.
Although people had surrounded me for the past 24 hours, my apartment was eerily quiet. Usually, I would love this part of coming home…no one to be responsible for but me, no people, no obligations, no noise…quiet. But, for some reason, this quiet felt like it would eat my soul.
Shivering, I cranked the heater up and turned on the water in my shower as hot as I could stand it. Ten minutes of standing under the liquid fire were enough to warm me to my bones, although I could still feel that touch of coldness trying to spread as I toweled off and dressed for my rendezvous with Robert.
I took a bit of time fixing my hair and makeup but spent as little time at home as I could. Another Uber, another driver, another chat with a stranger about mundane things, and I again found myself standing outside the bar from yesterday.
Robert had beaten me there and smiled when he saw me step out of the Uber. The bartender seemed equally happy to see us again. I couldn’t help but wonder just how much Robert had tipped him the day before.
We spent the afternoon talking about John, life, and everything we could think of as if we were old friends catching up. He was surprised to hear some of the childhood stories I had about John, and I was equally surprised to listen to some of the things he had to say about John’s travels.
We stuck with beer this time and drank the three we ordered slowly. I was surprised at how easy it was to laugh with Robert. We had both just experienced a significant loss in our lives, but somehow, we were still finding a way to steal some happiness from the day. Both of us seemed to be avoiding bringing up the sadness surrounding John’s memory, but that was all right.
Finally, we knew it was time for our visit to come to an end and closed out our tab. Robert held the door for me, and we walked outside together. This time we hesitated to call a ride, however. He smiled softly and pulled me in for a hug. The comfort of his arms was almost overwhelming, and I could feel a little spark of warmth spread through my heart.
As he pulled away, he allowed his lips to brush mine softly.
He pulled back quickly and said, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
Before he could say any more, I put my hands on his cheeks and pulled his lips back to mine. As we embraced, his arms circled my waist and pulled me closer. Eventually, we pulled away from each other breathlessly.
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand. This time we didn’t bother waiting for an Uber. Instead, we jumped in the first waiting cab we could find outside the bar, and Robert gave the driver the address to his hotel. As with our conversation, falling into bed with Robert was easy. His lips stayed on mine, and his body touching mine made me feel alive for the first time in a week.
After we finished, Robert wrapped the blankets around us and held me tight. I didn’t know if any of this would last, but for the moment, it was comfortable and it felt right. He stroked my hair, and I took a deep breath of contentment.
Robert was the first to break the silence.
“John talked so much about you that I feel as if I already know everything about you,” he said, smiling.
I felt a smile form on my lips, as well.
“I know what you mean,” I said. “He sure had a way of knowing people, didn’t he?”
“He sure did,” he said, pulling me a little closer to him.
I looked up at him from my spot on his chest, and his dark eyes caught mine, stealing my breath. His lips were on mine in a moment, and I felt myself being swept away again into a sea of passion and togetherness.
When sleep did finally take us, my dreams weren’t quite as dramatic as they were before. John still invaded them, but this time he was standing on the shore with me watching the waves crash in. He looked at me with that goofy grin, and I tried to hug him. He stepped back and shook his head with a bit of sadness in his eyes.
“Thank you for being my friend, Anna,” he said.
In my dream, hot tears began streaming down my face, and I reached out to him again.
“I can’t stay here, Anna,” he said. “You have to let me go.”
“I don’t want to,” I said, crying.
“I know,” he said, “but it was my time. You couldn’t have done anything to help me. It’s just something that happened.”
“WHY?” I yelled at him. “Why did it HAVE to happen?”
John shrugged his shoulders.
“Life isn’t about keeping bad things from happening, Anna. Bad things happen every day. Life is about how we react to those bad things.”
Tears continued to stream down my face as I reached for him. Suddenly, a wave crashed over both of us, and he disappeared for good. My dream came to an abrupt end, and I felt myself jerk awake, still wrapped up in Robert’s arms.
The sun was again streaming in through the windows. But this time, I looked at Robert still asleep in the bed beside me, and for the first time, began to feel the warmth that the sun was trying to give me since John died. Finally, I was able to gaze out the window into the bright sunlight and not feel angry for it being there.
“There still should be rain, though,” I muttered to myself, as I allowed a small hint of a smile play at the corners of my lips. “There should be rain.”