I looked at the scene before me and smiled. There were empty beer cans from the night before strewn across the table. Oliver and Matt bickered over who was going to finish the handle of rum.
“We can’t let it go to waste!” Oliver said. “And it’s not enough for next time.”
Matt let out a breath, took a swig, and handed it to Oliver. “Your turn.”
Oliver rolled his eyes and finished the contents. Ali came in with the cardboard box from the packie, filled to the brim with fresh orange juice and champagne. It was a typical Sunday morning. Not a care in the world, except maybe the chapters I was supposed to read for accounting.
I poured champagne into my cup, almost to the top but added a splash of OJ for good measure. It was the morning after all. I walked outside to see who was around and found Caleb and Will sitting on the rock wall in the backyard.
“Hey, guys!” I exclaimed, jumping up to sit on the wall beside Caleb. I threw my arm around his neck and kissed his temple. “Missed you last night.”
He smiled at me and said, “At least we have today.”
It poured all night last night; I was glad it didn’t carry into today. What a beautiful day. I took a sip of my drink and tilted my face towards the sun, happy as could be.
Caleb nudged me. “El, police are coming.”
Alarmed, I looked up to see an officer walking towards us. I put my drink down on the wall and sat up a little straighter.
“Is Ella Marion here?”
I slid off the wall and walked a few steps toward the office. “That’s me,” I said, a little bit nervously.
“Could you follow me please?” He didn’t give me much of a choice; he turned and started walking towards his cruiser. I looked back at Caleb, standing there helpless and worried, his beer can still unopened in his hand.
When we got to the cruiser, the office turned to me with a solemn look on his face. I had never been arrested before. My parents were going to kill me. The pit in my stomach grew.
“Ella, I’m Stephen, an officer here in Towson. I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this. The Hamilton station couldn’t do it over the phone.”
“Wait, what are you talking about? I thought I was getting arrested. What’s going on?”
“Ella, your family was in an auto accident late last night, on the way back from a movie. It was pouring and they slid off the road. Your parents were announced dead at the scene. Your siblings were on the way to the hospital but the paramedics were unable to revive them. I’m so sorry.”
I put my hand on the cruiser to steady myself but my head felt too heavy to hold up. I stood there, speechless. Unable to ask for more details. Everything felt hazy, like I was in a dream. This couldn’t be real life. When my vision focused, all I could see was the look on the officer’s face, an expression of pity and sadness. It made me sick. I turned, taking my keys out and running to my car. Caleb intercepted me, still holding his unopened beer can.
“Ella, what did he say? Are you okay?”
I looked evenly at his face, steadying myself. “I’m fine. I have to go.”
Stephen appeared behind him. “Ella, where are you going?”
“Hamilton.”
“We can have someone drive you.”
“I’m fine.”
Caleb looked between the two of us, perplexed. “What’s going on?”
“My family is fucking dead, Caleb. All of them. Mom. Dad. Rachel. Maria. They’re all dead.”
Caleb stumbled back a step. “What?” his voice cracking. “Oh my God, El.”
When I saw his eyes swim with tears, I turned toward my car and got in. I couldn’t look at him. I started the car and put my hands on the wheel, trying to calm myself. Before I could pull out, Caleb jumped in.
“I’m coming with you.”
I didn’t have the energy to fight with him. I sighed and reversed past the officer.
Four hours into the eight hour drive, Caleb grabbed my hand. “You haven’t said a word.”
I silently kept driving.
When I reached hospital in Hamilton, I took my time. There was no rush. No one was in between life or death. No one could be taking their last breaths at any moment.
They were just dead.
I walked through the automatic doors and was immediately blinded by the bright hospital lights. My head felt like it was going to implode. Caleb walked over to the reception desk and I mindlessly followed him.
“Hi. Can I help you?”
“We’re looking for the Marion family.”
Her eyes darted up to look to look at us. By the look on her face, I could tell she knew exactly who my family was. It was probably the biggest accident Hamilton has seen in years. It was a town where everyone knew everyone. I could see the moment it registered with her that I was the last daughter, the last Marion left.
She looked at me with the same face that Officer Stephen did. Pity and despair. “Bottom floor.”
My legs felt like logs as I walked to the elevator. Caleb put his arm around me while we waited for the elevator. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on his warmth. The elevator dinged and opened its doors but I couldn’t bring myself to go in.
Caleb saw my hesitation and cradled my head with his hands. “I’m right here.”
I took a deep breath and walked into the elevator, letting it descend me into my personal hell.
That night I laid in my childhood bed, staying turned away from Caleb so he would think I was asleep. I couldn’t have him stare at me any longer, waiting for me to break. I closed my eyes and tried to shut my brain off.
I imagined every holiday.
Every school break.
Coming home to an empty house.
To a town that now had nothing left for me.
I couldn’t take being still anymore. I silently rolled out of bed and went downstairs to the basement. I went into the bar area and pulled out the bottle of gin from my dad’s stash. I poured a little bit into a glass and threw it back. It burned. Good. At least I could feel something.
I picked up the bottle, letting it hover over the glass. Fuck it. I pushed the glass into the sink and drank from the bottle. After each swig, it hurt a little less.
All of it.
I lowered the bottle and saw Caleb in the doorway.
“Ella…”
“Don’t say anything.” I took another sip, smaller this time.
“El, you have to talk. To anyone.”
“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to talk about how next Thanksgiving I will be completely alone at the dinner table? Do you want me to talk about how we’re alone in my family’s house and not in the fun-they’ll-be-home-tomorrow-let’s-enjoy-it-while-we-can kind of way? Do you want me to talk about how my dad won’t walk me down the aisle, my mom won’t help me pick out my dress, and my sisters won’t be my bridesmaids? And those are just the cliché, obvious moments! First, I have to bury my whole family! I have to stand in front of everyone and pretend to be strong. I have to act fine so everyone else will be fine and not break down. I can’t let my grief be another burden people have to worry about. Then I go home to an empty house and decide what the hell to do with it. Do I keep it? How am I supposed to live in this house? How I supposed to be in this house without thinking of the lazy nights on the couch? Without thinking of the non-stop laughter and inappropriate dinner conversations? How am I supposed to exist in a world with no family? I can’t do it, Caleb! Once I let it all in, that’s it – it’s over!”
I threw the bottle against the wall. It shattered into a million pieces, splattering gin everywhere and making Caleb flinch violently. My chest exploded and I collapsed to the ground. Caleb fell to the ground next to me and enveloped me into his arms. I sobbed.
“I can’t do it. It hurts too much.”
“I’m sorry, El, I’m so sorry.”
It’s been fourteen months since it happened. Last February will forever be a time of slick, wet roads and bad timing. My aunts, uncles, and cousins flew in from California, Massachusetts, and Washington. They stayed as long as they could but they had lives and jobs to get back to. They called to check in every week. I could tell they were worried that I didn’t have anyone. We had never been close; the distance made it hard. They planned the funeral for me and let me sit silently. Hundreds of people I had never seen before wrapped me in their arms and told me how sorry they were. They looked at me with the expression I came to know well. Pity and sadness. It made me nauseous.
After the funeral, I didn’t move for four days. Then I called my university and took the semester off of school. I couldn’t find a way to go to class or take notes on chapters that didn’t have a purpose anymore. In the back of my head I knew my parents wouldn’t be okay with it but what did that matter? They were gone. I stayed at my house, avoiding everything that reminded me of my family. Neighbors brought big pans of lasagna and casseroles. My friends tiptoed around me, not knowing how to act. I could tell they were afraid I was going to break but they didn’t realize that I was already broken. I couldn’t do anything without wanting to call my mom and tell her about it. So I stopped doing anything at all.
Now, it’s April, a beginning of a new season. Flowers will be blooming soon. I came home for the weekend, one of the last weekends I was spending here. Eight months after the accident, I finally worked up the courage to walk in their rooms. I stopped in the hallways and looked at the family photos. I took my time going through their things, coming back every few weekends and soaking it all up. I never got to say goodbye; this was all I had.
I was sitting on the front porch swing, wearing Maria’s ripped jeans and Dad’s old flannel. I rocked back and forth lazily. The sun was out and it was unseasonably warm. I tilted my face towards the sky and exhaled.
I was interrupted by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out, looking at the screen. Caleb.
“Hi,” I said, smiling.
He has been the light at the end of the tunnel. He let me lean on him for the last year with no hesitation or complaints. He was gentle and patient at first, bringing me tea and holding me. Later, he went back to normal, slowly starting to flirt with me. He stopped treating me like I was fragile. He pulled me from my grief and helped me get back on my feet. I could tell it was hard on him, seeing me like that. I crawled out of the darkness for him first, then for myself. He made me believe that being happy again was achievable. His family welcomed me with open arms every holiday. At first it hurt, being around a large, loving family but after a while, it started to feel nice and warm. Caleb didn’t look at me like everyone else did. To him, I wasn’t the girl who lost her whole family. I wasn’t someone that needed to be looked after. He believed I could be strong again and eventually, I was. My family would want me to be able to smile genuinely, to be able to live.
“How are you?” he asked. His voice was a shining beacon.
“I’m okay today.”
“I love you, El. Are you coming back to school today or do you want me to come to you?”
“No, it’s alright, I’m leaving soon… I should be back by dinner.”
“Good, I missed you last night.”
I smiled, a real one. “At least we have today. I’ll see you soon!”
After I hung up, I grabbed my keys and walked outside. It started drizzling as soon as I walked outside. I sighed and looked up towards the sky.
“I miss you guys.”
I got in my car and said goodbye to the house. A few hours into the journey, it started to pour. No matter how much I sped up the windshield wipers, it became increasingly harder to see. The only thing I could see was two blurry headlights. I squinted at them, trying to gauge how far away they were. They were getting brighter and brighter. I realized they were coming at me head on. I laid on my horn and swerved to the right to avoid them, managing to sneak by. I sighed with relief. I turned quickly back to the left so I wouldn’t veer off the road but my back tires slipped and I spun.
And spun.
The spinning stopped.
The pain stopped.
Everything stopped.
We now have more than today.