Waves • Conrad Fisher

thirty-two

Sarah wished that was a gene she'd inherited because she was at a loss. She didn't know what to do with herself.

She thought about calling Conrad. She even dialed his number a few times. But she couldn't do it. She didn't know what to say. She was afraid of saying the wrong things, of making things worse. And then she thought about calling Jeremiah. But it was the fear that held her back. She knew that the moment she called, the moment she said it out loud, it would be true.

Susannah would really be gone.

On the drive up, they were mostly quiet. Liam's only suit was wrapped in plastic and hung in the backseat. Sarah hadn't bothered to hang up her dress.

"What will we say to them?" She asked at last.

"I don't know." Liam admitted. "The only funeral I've ever been to is Aunt Shirle's, and she was really old."

Sarah was too young to remember that funeral.

"Where will we stay tonight? Susannah's house?"

"No idea?"

"How do you suppose Mr Fisher's handling it?" She wondered. She couldn't bring herself to picture Conrad or Jeremiah, not yet.

"Whiskey." Liam answered.

After that Sarah stopped asking questions.

They changed into their clothes at a gas station thirty miles from the funeral home. As soon as Sarah saw how neat and pressed Liam's suit was, she regretted not hanging up her dress. Back in the car, she kept smoothing down the skirt with her palms, but it didn't help. Her mother had told her that rayon was pointless; she should have listened.

They arrived early enough to find Jackie bustling around, arranging flowers and talking to Mr Browne, the funeral director. As soon as she saw her daughter, she frowned.

"You should have ironed that dress, Sarah." She spoke.

Sarah bit her bottom lip to keep from saying something she knew she would regret.

"There wasn't any time." Sarah said, even though there had been. There had been plenty of time.

Jackie nodded tersely. "Go find the boys, will you? Sarah, talk to Conrad."

Liam and Sarah exchanged a look. What would she say? It had been a month since prom, since they'd last spoken.

The Campbell siblings found them in a side room with pews and tissue boxes under lacquer covers. Jeremiah's head was bent, like he was praying, something Sarah had never known him to do. Conrad sat straight, his shoulders squared, staring into nowhere.

"Hey." Liam said, clearing his throat. He moved towards them, hugging them roughly.

When it was Sarah's turn she hurried over to Jeremiah and hugged him as hard as she could. He felt stiff in her arms.

"Thanks for coming." He said, his voice oddly formal.

She had this fleeting thought that maybe he was still mad at her, but she pushed it away as quickly as it had come. She felt guilty for even thinking it. This was Susannah's funeral, why would he be thinking about her?

She patted his back awkwardly, her hand moving in small circles. His eyes were impossibly blue, which was what happened when he cried.

"I'm really sorry." Sarah said and immediately regretted saying it, because the words were so ineffectual. They didn't convey what she really meant, how she really felt. "I'm sorry."