The Movies Make It Look Easy

Chapter 75

I knew, even as I said it, that it sounded like a bad cliché, but it was true nonetheless.

“I understand. We all feel the same. This horrible thing has happened and nothing will ever be the same, as much as we wish it wasn’t true. A day won’t go by that we won’t think of him, and he’ll always be in our hearts, but we can’t let that get in the way of life. Especially not you and Adrian. You both have so much to live for.” Her voice cracked and she fell silent, her sobs becoming fainter as she moved away from the phone.

My heart twisted and I wished for nothing more than to be able to put my arms around her. Comfort her in any way I could. I’d loved Ryan. He was the best brother, the best friend I could have ever wished for and I knew I’d cherish my memories of him for the rest of my life, but I wasn’t a mother. I couldn’t even comprehend how devastating, how fundamentally wrong, it must be for a parent to lose a child, for a mother to lose her son. I hoped never to experience such loss.

I shifted my position on the bench, averting my face from the passing glance of a student on his way to class, uncomfortable even though my sunglasses hid my tear-filled eyes. I felt like I had a sign attached to my forehead proclaiming how much of a mess my life had become.

There was a crackle and a click as the phone was picked up from wherever it had been dropped, before my dad’s voice spoke kindly into my ear. “Hi, honey.”

“Hey, dad” I replied, trying to hide the quiver in my voice.

“Your mother just needed a minute” he explained almost apologetically.

“I understand.” But I didn’t really. I don’t think I ever could.

His next question startled me out of my reverie, the non sequitur momentarily bewildering me.

“How’s college going? Are you keeping up with all your classes?”

I couldn’t help the watery laugh that rose when he spoke. Trust my dad to ask the most mundane of questions and still manage to sound interested in how I’d answer. I suppose that’s what it meant to be a parent.

“College is going fine, dad” I said with exasperation.

I heard him take a breath, and knew that if I didn’t change the subject, he’d launch into a well-worn speech on how important education was for my future…blah, blah, blah. I’d been subjected to it before, ad nauseam, and wasn’t interested in a repeat.

“How’s Adrian?” I blurted out.

Silence met my question and I wasn’t sure if he was surprised at my outburst, or hesitating for some other reason. I hoped it was the former

“Adrian?” He asked vaguely.

My suspicions were immediately raised. I’d heard my father use that distracted and slightly distant tone before; when he wanted to come across as a confused, slightly stupid old man. He was clearly obfuscating. I just didn’t know why.

“Dad?” I prompted.

“Oh yes. Adrian.”

He spoke like he’d forgotten we were in the middle of a conversation. I narrowed my eyes, frustration welling up inside me at the obvious tactic.

“He’s fine” he said eventually.

I sat quietly, waiting for him to elaborate. Nothing was forthcoming. After a minute of awkward silence, he cleared his throat.

“I’d better go check on your mother.”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“You should call Adrian. He’s been worried…we all have.” He spoke quietly as if aware of the way my guilt was slowly crushing me.