Embracing You, Embracing Me (22 page)

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Authors: Michelle Bellon

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Young Adult

BOOK: Embracing You, Embracing Me
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I heard Amber take a deep breath. “It’s not
me, Roshell. It’s Gabriel. There’s been an accident. He’s dead.”

The world stopped. My heart plummeted to my
stomach as the floor seemed to drop out from under my feet. “What. NO! What are
you saying?” I asked in accusation, prepared to take out my anger on Amber for
daring to make such a heinous statement.

“I am so sorry to be the one to tell you
this, Roshell. Darren just called me and asked me to tell you. Apparently, they
had both been out target practicing in the woods yesterday, testing out a new
pistol that Gabriel had purchased. Darren says that the gun jammed up and they
had decided to call it a day.

“From what the police say, it looks like
Gabriel attempted to identify the problem later that night. He must have had
the gun pointed slightly towards himself, up and to the left, over his
shoulder; they figure he was trying to find out what was jamming it up, and the
gun must have accidently gone off.

“The bullet came up through his collar bone
and hit him in the head. He died instantly.” She paused, not sure how to proceed
after delivering such a terrible blow.

The room was tilting and I was trying to
grasp everything that Amber had said while simultaneously trying to shove it
far, far away from me. “I can’t talk right now,” I said, nearly choking on my
words, before slamming the phone down, then dashing blindly out of my room and
through the front door.

I was wandering aimlessly down the middle
of the dark, unlit county road, wishing I could somehow undo the past ten
minutes, unweaving the devastation that had just wrecked my universe, when I
heard Rosie’s cautious approach.

“Roshell, I heard what happened. Amber
called back frantic, worried about you and told me. I am so incredibly sorry,”
Rosie said.

I stopped pacing in circles, my shoulders
stooped and heaving as I sobbed. “Why? Why? Why?” I cried. “Not Gabriel, not
him.” My body ached all over and even though I was already crying
uncontrollably, I actually wished I could somehow cry harder to ease some of
the all consuming pain.

I spun around, my fist to my chest, anger
and loss coursing through my veins. “I love him and I never told him. I never
once over- rode my precious ego and childhood fears long enough to tell him how
much I loved him. How beautiful he was. I LOVE HIM!”

A heartbeat passed, “OH GOD! I don’t think
that I can do this.” I crumpled down to the ground as a raw and fiery hole
seethed into my chest and threatened to consume me from the inside out.

Rosie rushed to my side, kneeling down and
wrapping her arms around me. “It’s going to be okay, Roshell,” she crooned in a
soothing voice, “come on, let’s get you in the house, Marissa is by herself in
there. Come on,” she coaxed, gently easing me off the pavement, guiding me
towards our house, one foot in front of the other.

Just before we approached the front steps,
I came to an abrupt halt. A devastating epiphany dawned. “Oh, my god, he knew!
I don’t know how, but he knew, he sensed it.

The last night that we were together he
panicked and said that he had a terrible feeling that he would never see me
again. Oh, god, I just brushed him off. I wish that I had listened, I wish that
I had held on to him longer and harder and never let go.” I cried out as this
new realization sunk in and pushed me that much farther over the edge.

“I can’t go in the house like this Rosie, I
don’t want Marissa to see me like this, oh no! I’m supposed to be at work soon.
What time is it?” My voice sounded foreign, my words erratic, sentences running
into one another. I clasped onto Rosie’s arm.

I was quickly losing grip on reality as
shock encompassed my senses.

“Don’t worry about Marissa,” Rosie said. “I
will take good care of her while you lie down in your room. She won’t even know
what’s going on. I will call your boss for you and explain. I am sure that he
will understand.”

Rosie led me through the front door and
down the hall. I sat on the bed and waited for her to leave me with my grief.

 

ROSIE:
She was crying silently at this point and I didn’t want to leave
her, but I needed to follow through with my promise to take care of the details
or she would work herself into a frenzy over it.

Whenever Roshell gets too stressed, she
tends to hyper-focus on small, maybe even insignificant details. I have never
seen her this upset. I need to see to Marissa for the time being. She needs to
be taken care of.

Later, after Marissa was snoozing soundly
in her crib, I heated up some chicken noodle soup and took it to her hoping to
coax her to eat at least some of it.

When I first opened the door it was pitch
black in the room, but with the hall light filtering in I could clearly see
that she wasn’t on her bed. I was worried, until I noticed that she was sitting
on the floor in the corner, curled up with her arms wrapped around her knees.

 

 

Rosie gently set the soup on the
nightstand, before she slid down to the floor, sitting Indian-style directly in
front of me face to face.

I wanted to be left alone but wanted
company at the same time. When I spoke, it was more to myself than to her, my
voice monotone. I had expended every single emotion possible and now all that
was left over was an empty shell. “I deserve this,” I said. “I couldn’t get my
act together. The person I wanted more than anything in this whole world, I
just kept pushing away, as if there would always be a tomorrow, as if he would always
be there.”

With a sick, half- hearted laugh, anger
slowly crept into my voice. “Who the hell did I think I was? Always so
self-absorbed, like the whole world just revolved around me and my personal
problems.

“I deserve this, but he didn’t. He should
have had a tomorrow. He should have had the chance to find the right woman and
have children. It’s just not fair.” My lip trembled. “It’s just not fair.”

Rosie remained seated and kept her voice
calm. “I know honey, none of this is fair. I don’t know why any of this has
happened, but I certainly don’t think that you deserve it. You have been
busting your butt to get your life on track so that you could build a secure
future for Marissa. Everyone that knows you, sees how much you love her and how
good a parent you are.

“You told me all about your visit with
Gabriel this last time and I have to believe that he knew that you cared about
him deeply, but were making choices for you and Marissa. I think that he
supported your decisions and was hopeful that the two of you would find a
future when the time was right, but I don’t think that he was putting his life
on hold and just waiting. He sounded too vibrant for that.” She paused,
thinking for a moment, “Plus, you know what I believe. He knows how you feel
now, even if he didn’t before.”

Her words reached through the haze. I
glanced up, searching her face for answers, for comfort. Rosie and I had always
shared similar beliefs about the after-life, following the theory that souls
continued on with their individual path beyond the physical plane. But at this
point, my mind was thick with emotion, and I wasn’t exactly sure what I thought
anymore. “Do you really think so? I don’t know,” I shook my head. “I just wish
that I could tell him, so that I knew that he knew. He deserved that.”

Rosie reached out and grabbed my hand, gave
it a squeeze. “I know. But he knows. He knows.”

 

Chapter 22

Thankfully, my boss was a real sweetheart,
and was understanding when I explained the situation, requesting a few days off
to go to the funeral. I arranged to leave Marissa with her father for the
duration, and drove south.

On the day of the funeral, I rode in the
passenger seat of Amber’s little gray Colt, feeling numb and praying that the
numbness would linger, offering its solace, so I could survive the service. But
as we exited the vehicle and started toward the small rural church, located
just down the road from Gabriel’s parents’ house, I saw his National Guard unit
standing in formation. The air was filled with booming punctuations as they
began the traditional gun salute in honor of their fallen soldier.

The sight was gut-wrenching and I turned
back toward the car in retreat. When I reached the front side, I placed both
hands on the hood and doubled over with body wracking sobs. Amber touched my
shoulder, her tears silent. “You have to go in there, Roshell. You will regret
it forever if you don’t.”

I knew that Amber was right but wasn’t sure
I had it in me. I breathed deeply. I had to go inside that church. I had to say
goodbye.

Amber walked in first, but reached behind
and grabbed my hand as she stepped inside. When I crossed the threshold, my
face paled. I squeezed Amber’s hand without mercy, the world slowing down to a
stop as the tragedy of it all settled into my soul.

Standing just inside the entrance,
Gabriel’s family, a solid unit of strength, greeted guests as they arrived, passing
out an ‘in memory of’ flyer, welcoming everyone with sad smiles.

Just behind them, I caught sight of the
multiple poster boards that filled the foyer with pictures of Gabriel. It was
like watching a short film of his beautiful life. There were pictures of him as
a baby and spanned his entire life up until shortly after he joined the
National Guard, posing in his military uniform. In nearly every picture his
face was lit up with a glowing smile and it seemed that the very sunshine
flowed from his essence.

I glanced back toward his family, standing
stoic in their grief and was amazed at how brightly the light shone throughout
their family. When it became too much to bear, I turned away from their
sorrowful luminescence.

Amber and I took our time scanning the
display and even found ourselves smiling at some of the more humorous snapshots.

Finally, we filed into the church and found
a spot in the middle left side of the pews.

The minister gave a sermon that I barely
registered as I kept staring at the large urn, just behind him, positioned
directly in front of a large headshot photo of Gabriel. I stared at that urn,
trying to wrap my brain around that fact that it contained him, his ashes. It
seemed so surreal, so inconceivable.

Slowly drifting back to the sermon, I
surmised he was wrapping it up. Then Gabriel’s father stepped up to the
platform and greeted everyone. He thanked the guests for attending his son’s
service and for all of the love and support that had been demonstrated over the
last week. Then he encouraged anyone that had something to say or a story to
tell about Gabriel, to feel free to come forward and do so.

The next hour was wonderful and terrible
all at the same time as those who knew Gabriel throughout different periods of
his life began to tell incredibly touching and sometimes even humorous stories
about him.

Darren was the first one to step forward.
Though he broke down a few times and had to gather himself together again, he
managed to touch everyone as he spoke of their tight friendship. The
congregation even laughed as he escorted them through a few of his bittersweet
memories.

After the ceremony was over, I gathered
enough courage to approach his mother and father, wanting to offer my
condolences. It struck me that I had never actually met them and wasn’t exactly
sure how to approach. Waiting until they had a free moment, I stepped forward,
“Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison? My name is Roshell McRady. I… umm… I knew
your son and cared for him very much. I just wanted to express my sincere sympathy.
I am so sorry for your terrible loss.” My voice trembled and my knees shook as
I tried to maintain composure.

Gabriel’s mother had a kind, loving face
that spread into a warm smile as she held out her hand. “I am so glad to meet
you! Gabriel has told me so much about you!”

I was taken aback: I hadn’t expected that
he would have spoken to his mother about me. “Oh… he did?”

His mother’s gentle spirit poured out of
her eyes as she spoke. “Absolutely! He spoke often of you and your daughter.”
She kept my hand in hers as she continued, “He loved you very much.”

My knees nearly buckled. I put my hand to
the base of my throat as it constricted with emotion. “He did?” I asked dumbly.
I was at a loss for anything further to say. Desperate to escape the
claustrophobic confines of the church as the walls closed in around me, I
politely excused myself.

I curved through the maze of bodies and
rushed outside, anxious to pull the fresh air into my lungs before the panic
cut off my airway completely.

Amber joined me only minutes later, and
offered to drive home. On the way back to her house Amber quietly said, “Darren
is having a small wake tonight at his place, only a few of Gabriel’s closest
friends have been invited. He wanted us to come.”

I stared out the window at the dreary and
cloudy day, the scenery passing by without notice. “Sure. Fine. Whatever.”

“I don’t even know what to do at this
point. One minute I feel so much emotion and pain that I feel as if I will
drown from it and welcome the release. Then the next minute I feel numb and
just want to walk through the rest of my life like that to avoid any further
pain.”

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