four
I have to do it. It’s the last thing I’ll get to do for my friend ever again.
I wake to that thought and hold it close all morning.
I’m doing this for Finn, I think as I get out of bed.
I’m doing this for Finn, I think as I put on my dress socks and shiny black shoes, as I shrug on my suit coat.
I drive myself to the funeral home early, for Finn, in case there’s anything I can do to help.
I park and enter the building. I head to the room he will be in.
She’s there.
Autumn sits on a stool next to his coffin, resting her cheek on its lid like it’s his shoulder. She was talking when I walked in, but she falls silent and raises her head.
“I’m sorry,” I say. It feels like I’ve walked in on them naked together, but Autumn shrugs and rests her head back on his box.
A few moments later, she asks, “Do you want to talk to him alone?” Her voice is still hoarse and quiet.
“No. I’m here in case…”
Autumn has closed her eyes as if she has forgotten I’m here.
“Should I go?”
“Only if you want to.” Her nonchalance chills me. “We’re just being close one last time.” She presses her cheek against the gray metal, and my stomach twists.
“Autumn,” I say, but she doesn’t answer me. She’s being with him.
I watch her, worried to leave her alone but not alone. Minutes pass. I think she forgets that I’m standing by the door. She begins to whisper again, and I hear her giggle once.
“I love you too,” she tells him in his box, and I bolt from the room.
I sit on the stiff couch in the hall. An employee asks if I’m here for the Smith memorial, and I tell him I’m a pallbearer. He tells me what I already knew: I’m early, and I should keep waiting where I am.
Before people start arriving, Autumn creeps out of the room. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She looks at me as she passes, like she isn’t sure if she should say anything to me or not.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I’m letting Sylvie have the funeral,” she says over her shoulder. “It only seems fair. My dad and I are going to the art museum instead. Finny wouldn’t want Dad at his funeral anyway. I’ll go by the graveyard later and make sure he’s settled in.”
And then she strolls out.
five
All through the memorial, the image of Autumn nuzzled against Finn’s coffin, her face against the cold metal, haunts me. I hear her absence in the stories people tell, even as I laugh and grieve with them. Finn feels so alive with all these people here. It’s Autumn who is the ghost.
Sylvie sits in the front row in between Angelina and a man who must be Finn’s father. I can only see the back of his blond head and a bit of his profile. His shoulders are tense, but they do not shake. He seems to stare ahead, unwavering, at whoever is speaking about the son he barely knew.
People talk about Finn, and they cry. They talk about Finn, and they laugh. Everyone is united in missing Finn, but I don’t understand how everyone can act like this is all so ordinary. As if Finn being dead is logical.
There aren’t as many people at the funeral as at the wake, but it’s more than I expected. Jamie Allen, Autumn’s ex, is there with a girl I’m pretty sure Autumn used to be pretty close with, though it looks like she’s pretty close with Jamie now. Finn had told me about the situation with her friends. They keep looking around and whispering. Maybe they’re looking for Autumn.
Then the funeral director gives us a signal. The guys from the team and I all stand. We’re done talking about Finn. It’s time to put him away.
Before the memorial started, the funeral director explained how we would lift the casket together, but it feels like being in a play unrehearsed. We get through it though. One guy behind me stumbles, and for a second, I wonder if Finn felt the tilt, but then I have to bite my lip to keep from crying when I remember that Finn couldn’t. It’s done. He’s on my shoulder. Finn. Inside this box is Finn, was Finn, and his head is probably near my own. As we walk him to the hearse, I hear Autumn’s voice, We’re just being close one last time.
This will be Finn’s last car ride. The doors close behind the coffin, and my parents ask me if I will be okay if they skip the graveyard service.
I tell them that it’s okay, even though none of this is okay, because their being there wouldn’t make it any easier.
I ride with Coach to the graveyard. He asks me if I want to talk. I say no.