"You look beautiful," Jude told Skylar. This felt wrong, just like the entire being in Kenora with Skylar. Add that on top of their reason for being in the shabby motel that they booked last minute was that they were attending Thom's funeral, and Jude felt nauseous with guilt. She would be saying goodbye to Thom with her new girlfriend at her side. That felt like cheating, even if she and Thom had broken up long before his death. To ease her guilt, Jude tried to carry on like nothing was out of the ordinary. Like it was perfectly normal to be attending a funeral of your ex-boyfriend who committed suicide. Normal.
But Skylar did look beautiful. The girl owned one dress, which she had worn to both her parents funerals, as well as Logan's. Jude said that Skylar should just keep it in her closet, reserved only for funerals. She even offered to buy Skylar a second dress to wear on other occasions.
The black fabric was snug on Skylar's torso and the entire length of her arms. At the waist it loosened, and when she walked, it swung back and forth, gliding against her tan skin. With high heels on she towered over Jude, who had always been a little too clumsy to wear anything other than flats.
"I've never been to a funeral," Jude said, as Skylar glanced at herself once more in the mirror that was not only cracked directly in half, but was chipped at all four corners. There was barely any mirror left to it.
Skylar turned, and Jude envied her grace. The taller-much, much taller-girl looked down at Jude, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, which dipped underneath her weight.
"Really?"
Jude nodded. "My grandparents died when I was really young. I barely remember them. My parents didn't want me to come to the funeral, so I went to my neighbour's house."
Skylar licked her lips and sighed. "I won't lie to you. They're dreadful."
"I can imagine that," said Jude nervously. She hadn't eaten anything all day, for fear of it coming straight back up. Skylar, however, had nearly cleared the entire buffet breakfast. That was another thing Jude envied: her endless appetite.
"That's why I'm here," Skylar said, bending down and squatting so she sat lower than Jude's eyes.
"What happens if I fall apart?"
"I'll pick you back up."
Jude took Skylar's hand. The past two weeks had been yearning towards treachery. She'd felt a strong desire to distance herself from not just Skylar, but everyone. She didn't want to reply to her emails, and she called in sick at the bar. But she was starting to feel a little better.
"It's okay to be upset," Skylar reminded her.
Jude nodded, and leaned forwards to kiss her cheek. She let her lips linger, watching Skylar out of the corner of her eye. The other girl had closed her eyes, and a small smile appeared on her lips.
"Thank you for coming back with me." Jude wished they hadn't had to stay in a motel. But she assumed she was not welcome at her parents' home. And by that assumption, it was safe to conclude that Skylar wasn't welcome, either.
That was something else that was weighing down on her, making her feel like everything was about to fall apart. There was no doubt that her mother and father were going to be at the funeral. They loved Thom, clearly, and were somewhat close with his parents. If it felt like everything was about to fall apart, thinking about her parents made Jude realize that she was going to be the first to break.
Skylar's response was one of her warm, reserved-for-Jude, smiles.
Jude remembered, then, that there was something she had been thinking about during their trip to Kenora. It added another butterfly to the swarm already flying around her stomach, and yet she couldn't convince herself not to bring it up. "Skylar?" Jude paused, swallowed. "I don't mean this in a bad way, but when we're at the funeral, can you maybe not tell anyone that you're my girlfriend?"
Skylar understood, but still felt a little pang in her chest. It was because this was a funeral for her ex-boyfriend, where her disapproving parents would be, and the last thing Jude needed was her girlfriend parading around, announcing her relation to Jude to everyone she passed. "Sure," she said, giving her a much smaller smile than the last. "I can do that."
-
Thom's funeral was held on the Monday two weeks from the day his body was found. This may not have been the day he died, but it's what his mother had told everyone who was invited. And whether no one had been able to attend, or Thom just didn't know many people, the large nave swallowed the tiny crowd. It took all of Jude's energy-which was very little, as she had slept a total of one hour and fifteen minutes the previous night-to force herself into the church. Skylar was right on her heels, her presence a reminder that Jude was not alone at her first ever funeral.
Jude recognized almost everyone. There was Thom's family, of course: his even-more-skinny-than-normal mousy mother; his buff father, who towered over everybody-even Skylar-and, like Thom, grunted in response to greetings from the grieving; his three sisters and five brothers, all younger than him, and Jude suddenly wished she could remember all of their names. Two sets of twins, and all were two years apart. Every single one of them resembled Thom's broodiness, his slouched shoulders, his black curls and his emerald eyes. She wondered briefly if one of their eyes was home to a blue fleck.
Then there were the cousins, the uncles, the aunts, all of whom Jude had met over the years but now their faces and names had slipped from her mind. Sad smiles were flashed at Jude and Skylar, and she knew that she wasn't the only one who had forgotten all of the people who were once connected to Thom.
And then, of course, there were her parents. Once Jude had caught their eye, they fought so hard to stay out of focus from her. Jude knew that if she wasn't careful, they would just assume that Skylar was her girlfriend. So, with immense guilt, she acted like she didn't know the girl who was walking so closely behind her, and sank into the pew in the fourth row from the front.
She kept her head down, her eyes on the floor, and refused to look at the casket. Thank god it was closed, as his mother had informed her when inviting her to the funeral. The service was already suffocating enough to make her want to storm out of the church and gasp for fresh air in an atmosphere where Thom still existed. If the casket was open, and Thom's cold, pale body was on display for her to see, she didn't think she would even make it outside.
"Are you okay?" Skylar whispered.
Jude ran her index finger underneath her nose, and was surprised to find herself crying already. Shaking her head, she stood, and said in a haste, "I have to go to the bathroom."
She immediately wished she hadn't. Almost everyone was seated now, except for Thom's mother, who was talking to one of the only guests Jude didn't recognize. He looked about her age, with his blonde hair buzzed down to the inch. And he wasn't wearing black, but instead a blue dress shirt with grey dress pants, and he was holding something in his hands. Jude slowed her walking, not wanting to intrude on the conversation between the two. She watched as the man gave Thom's mother what was in his hands, and then a soft touch on her shoulder.
A second after he ducked away and took a seat in the empty pew behind Skylar, Jude appeared in front of Thom's mother.
"Ruth, again, I'm so sorry for your loss," Jude said, shaking.
She nodded. "Thank you for coming, Jude. That man I was just talking to, his name is Nathan. He was Thom's neighbour." Her shoulders dropped, and she seemed to shrink a few feet. "He was the one who found him." Taking a step closer to Jude, she gestured to what was in her hands. Jude saw it was the notebook that she had been one page into reading before Thom found her. The one that was hidden underneath the bed, the one that was underneath that scratched out photo...
"This was next to him when he, well, you know," she continued, and by the sound of her voice, it seemed that she was barely keeping herself together. "I don't know what's in it. I haven't opened it. I'm guessing it's all about you, as you two were together for so long. I think you should have it, Jude."
Jude couldn't find the words to express how much she didn't want the book. But before she could say anything, it was in her hands, and Ruth was stalking away to take a seat with her family.
Just when the service was about to start, and when Jude was about to return to Skylar, the door to the nave opened once again, and a man entered. A man that Jude, and of course Skylar, knew.
Mack Nolan, looking healthier and heftier than last time he had seen Jude, dressed from head to toe in a black suit, with a look of great remorse set on his face.
"Mack?" Jude whispered, hurrying to greet him. "What are you doing here? It's about to start-"
"Skylar invited me," he whispered back, not waiting for Jude to begin walking down the aisle and into the pew where Skylar was waiting. "She said it would be nice if you had her entire support, and as her brother, I'm a part of that." He flashed her an apologetic smile. "I truly am sorry for your loss, Jude."
She was in the middle. To be angry that Skylar invited Mack to a funeral for a man she didn't even know, or to be happy that he was here? Jude decided, as she sat in between the two, and the minister began the service, that it was comforting to be surrounded by the Nolans. By her family.
The podium towered over Ruth as she replaced the conductor, and opened a folded piece of paper in front of her. The entire room was silent, and every crunch of the paper was heard, as Ruth struggled through shaking hands to smooth it out before her eyes. Then, looking to her left, she stared hard at the casket holding her first son's body, and she broke out into tears. Her sobs echoed off the walls, decorated with stained glass windows that were so beautiful they stood out even more brightly amidst a room full of mourning people. Jude took a look at the casket then, for the first time, as she had been avoiding it at all costs.
The wood was painted a smooth black, and it was decorated with emerald designs. Jude imagined the smell of the fresh wood and paint, replacing what used to be Thom's smell of leather and Irish Spring soap and safety.
Jude felt her hand reach out, gripping the seat in front of her, as if she was afraid she was about to fall over. Worse than that, when Ruth began speaking, she felt like she was just going to collapse.
"Thom was my baby. He hated me saying that, but it's true," she shrugged, and smiled through her tears. "He was my first born. He grew up so fast, into this tall, strong man, who was mature, and kept his siblings in line." Ruth smiled down at her family, but not one of her other children returned the gesture.
She went on reminiscing about the time he learned to ride a bike, and then she blinked, and he was driving her car around the small town. It was all the stereotypical memories that Jude expected to be shared at a funeral, and she was surprised by the lack of originality, and how she never spoke about how closed off he was, how dark and brooding. Jude assumed it was because Ruth didn't want her son to be remembered as a man who tied locks around himself and refused to give anyone the key. Maybe she was having the same thoughts as Jude, that Thom wasn't really like that, but was being overtaken by a dark depression.
Still speaking, Ruth's high voice was turning thick with tears. "I'm his mother, you know. I'm supposed to protect him. I was supposed to protect him. And I failed to do so, in more ways than one."
Jude wondered what else Thom was supposed to have been protected from, and what was more important than saving him from death, but then Ruth began to conclude her eulogy and Jude tuned in again to her words.
"I hope you find peace, my son. Not a day will go by that I don't think of you," she said, speaking directly to the casket. To Thom. "I love you, very, very much. You were loved."
Even more confused by that final sentence, Jude forgot to clap along with the other roomful of people as Ruth stepped down from the podium and returned to the seat beside her husband.
And then it was over. No words from Thom's father, nor any of his siblings. In fact, they didn't look sad in the least. All nine Stantons, aside from Ruth, looked uncomfortable. Jude's first funeral was turning out to be one of the strangest events she'd ever been to.
The burial was tomorrow, but Jude would not be attending. By then, she'd be back on the road with Skylar, to Toronto, far away from the life she narrowly escaped.
There were refreshments and food in another room, Ruth announced, holding a bunched up tissue in her fist. The Stantons passed Jude, Skylar, and Mack first, and then Jude's mother and father walked briskly by, not even stopping to flash Jude a dirty glare.
"Do you want a minute alone with him?" Skylar asked, standing up and glancing at the casket, that now lay alone at the front of the nave, on a little podium, as if on display. She pulled her dress further down her legs, and didn't take her concerned eyes off her girlfriend.
Jude couldn't decide. On one hand, she wanted to run as far away from the casket as possible. On the other, she wanted to be close to Thom one last time, to attempt to make peace with a death she knew she couldn't have stopped.
Skylar didn't wait for an answer. "We'll be in the other room, okay? And we'll leave whenever you're ready." Clutching the sleeve of Mack's blazer, the two headed in the opposite direction, and now Jude was alone with the casket.
Thom broke her heart, of course, but he also broke so much more than that. Sometimes Jude looked in the mirror and for a second, she could see the imprints of his fist on her skin. Sometimes Jude inched away from Skylar's touch because her mind flashed back to Thom grabbing her and beating her. Sometimes she couldn't get his cold voice out of his mind, and sometimes she wondered if he ever loved her at all.
That was another question she didn't think she would ever have the answer to.
So she might have broken Thom's heart by leaving her, but he was so much more of a heartbreaker than she was. That eased Jude's guilt a little.
The casket was cold. Freezing. Thom's voice was back in her mind, telling her that her eyes were like ice, but her heart was warm. The past two weeks had felt like time stopped, and she was trapped inside the blizzard that ensued on the day Thom first rose his hand at her. But now, his voice was the reminder that she was warm, and she could use that against the cold she was feeling. Winter was temporary, but her veins always remained warm if she allowed it.
"I'm sad that you died, Thom. I truly am." Jude sighed, her hand still heavy on the black wood. "But I couldn't save you. It was out of my reach. The only one who could have was you, and I think you're very brave for fighting for so long." If he had been battling a war that no one else knew about, or could see. "The problem is, soldiers fall all the time. If another gets caught up in another's fate, that could be another casualty. So I have to keep marching on. I can't tend to a fallen soldier forever."
These were the words that Skylar needed to hear four years ago, at Logan's funeral. Jude didn't want to be hung up on Thom's death forever. So she lifted her hand, backed away, and that was the last time she saw-or, was with-Thom Stanton.
-
The black fabric of her dress was itchy around her torso, and she hated the smell of churches. Jude decided this as she walked through the aisle of empty pews, letting her hands fall at her sides, noticing that for once, they weren't shaking. There were no tears on her face, and all she wanted to do was get out of this place. It smelled like old people, and Jude couldn't help being reminded of her grandparents' funerals, which had been held at this church years ago, which she hadn't even attended. But if this is what funerals smelled like, she was not looking forward to the next one she'd be invited to. And hopefully that wouldn't be for a long, long time.
There was audible chatter coming from one of the smaller greeting rooms connected to the hallway that Jude skirted along. Following the voices, Jude was so focused on finding Skylar and Mack that she didn't even notice Ruth appear directly in front of her, until she had stepped right on the woman's toes.
"Oh my god," said Jude, and then her eyes widened, because she was in a church. "I'm so sorry, Ruth. I didn't even see you coming."
But the small, stout woman wasn't even crying anymore. Any trace of grievance was replaced by fuming anger. Jude wouldn't have been surprised if smoke started spiralling out of her ears.
"How dare you," she spat. "How do you have the audacity to bring your girlfriend to my son's funeral?"
Eyes widening, Jude held her palm to her forehead. Skylar must have told her she was Jude's girlfriend. Why couldn't she have lied and said that she was a friend of Thom's, a friend of Jude's-anything but her girlfriend-like she had asked her to?
Slowly but surely, smoke began pouring out of Jude's ears, too. Now both women were standing only inches apart, each heaving with anger.
"Is this why you left Thom? To run off with a girl? That's bad enough, Jude, and then you bring her to the funeral? That's enough. You've crossed the line." The woman bared her teeth, like a dog ready to pounce, as she furiously pointed towards the massive front doors. "Out. Get out. And don't ever talk to my family again."
Jude looked away from her. In the doorway of the room where the voices had been coming from, Skylar stood leaning against the frame, her arms crossed over her chest, and her eyebrows drooping. She looked apologetic.
"Okay," Jude resigned, taking a deep breath and holding both her hands up. "We'll go. Skylar, we're leaving."
Of course, Jude wanted to tell Ruth the real reason why she left Thom, and that Skylar had come to be her support, but she couldn't risk another person not believing the abuse she'd endured. So she grabbed Skylar's hand forcefully, dragged her out of the church, and only looked back to make sure Mack was following behind them.
"You forgot this in your seat," Skylar said sheepishly, holding up Thom's diary. Her cheeks were blazing red. "What is it?"
"That," said Jude, snatching the journal, "doesn't matter. You told his mother that you're my girlfriend. That matters, Skylar. I told you not to, and you said you wouldn't! Why would you do something I asked you not to? Don't you understand how bad that was?"
"I'm sorry." Skylar's voice had shrank, and she was frowning sincerely. Her apologetic expression did little to ease Jude's rising anger. "I forgot that you asked me. As soon as she stormed away from me and confronted you I realized I made a mistake. I forgot, Jude. I'm sorry."
"How could you forget something like that?" Jude threw her hands in the air. Mack stood by, feeling extremely awkward.
Skylar shrugged and muttered, "It's not my fault."
"Are you saying that that wasn't important? That it didn't matter, so you let yourself forget it?" Jude had moved only a centimetre away from Skylar, and their noses practically touched. She breathed in the spearmint chapstick and noticed the smudged mascara at the corner of her left eye.
"That's not how it works," said Skylar, now losing her patience.
Mack stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned to the side, suddenly very interested in the parking lot.
"I can't believe you did that." Jude's voice came out like a whine, a frustrated, aggravated whine. She took a step back and turned, her back towards Skylar, and put her hands in her hair. Tugging on the curls, she winced.
"I'm sorry, Jude. I don't know what else to say. It's my mind, I forget stuff-"
"I know you forgot, Skylar." Speaking over her shoulder, she lowered her voice slightly, and asked if they could just go home. Not to the motel, but home.
And Skylar knew that they were bound for a very silent car ride back to the city.