what you would want?”
I knew she was right, but it didn’ t make it any easier. I was, for the first time in my life, completely and utterly at a loss.
I’ d never had anyone close to me die before, at least not anyone that I could remember. My grandmother had died when I was three, and I don’ t remember a single thing about her or the services that had followed or even the next few years after her passing. I’ d heard stories, of course, from both my father and my grandfather, but to me that’ s exactly what they were. It was the same as hearing stories I might otherwise read in a newspaper about some woman I never really knew. Though my father would take me with him when he put flowers on her grave, I never had any feelings associated with her. I felt only for the people she’ d left behind.
No one in my family or my circle of friends had ever had to confront something like this. Jamie was seventeen, a child on the verge of womanhood, dying and still very much alive at the same time. I was afraid, more afraid than I’ d ever been, not only for her, but for me as well. I lived in fear of doing something wrong, of doing something that would offend her. Was it okay to ever get angry in her presence? Was it okay to talk about the future anymore? My fear made talking to her difficult, though she was patient with me.
My fear, however, made me realize something else, something that made it all worse. I realized I’ d never even known her when she’ d been healthy. I had started to spend time with her only a few months earlier, and I’ d been in love with her for only eighteen days. Those eighteen days seemed like my entire life, but now, when I looked at her, all I could do was wonder how many more days there would be.
On Monday she didn’ t show up for school, and I somehow knew that she’ d never walk the hallways again. I’ d never see her reading the Bible off by herself at lunch, I’ d never see her brown cardigan moving through the crowd as she made her way to her next class. She was finished with school forever; she would never receive her diploma.
I couldn’ t concentrate on anything while I sat in class that first day back, listening as teacher after teacher told us what most of us had already heard. The responses were similar to those in church on Sunday. Girls cried, boys hung their heads, people told stories about her as if she were already gone. What can we do? they wondered aloud, and people looked to me for answers.
“ I don’ t know,” was all I could say.
I left school early and went to Jamie’ s, blowing off my classes after lunch. When I knocked at the door, Jamie answered it the way she always did, cheerfully and without, it seemed, a care in the world.
“ Hello, Landon,” she said,“ this is a surprise.”
When she leaned in to kiss me, I kissed her back, though the whole thing made me want to cry.
“ My father isn’ t home right now, but if you’ d like to sit on the porch, we can.”