He'd felt what we all felt.
Hopeless.
The room had fallen quiet with his exit, but silence wouldn't do. Soon, silence would be all that we had. So I'd picked up the book of words that rested in my hands, and I read them.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead
Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell
Give warning to the world that I am fled
From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell:
Nay, if you read this line, remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you so
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
O, if, I say, you look upon this verse
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse.
But let your love even with my life decay,
Lest the wise world should look into your moan
And mock you with me after I am gone.
Sadie sniffled, and I turned to find her tucked into Sophie's side on the couch. But that didn't affect me as much as the vision of Wade standing behind them with his eyes cold and silvery, as solid as he was broken. He was on fire, and he was frozen. Lou was at his elbow, her brow furrowed with concern.
I closed the book, looking to Rick with my heart climbing up and up. "I'm sorry. This was a mistake."
He reached for my hand. "No, just too true. But we need truth." He looked over my shoulder, motioning to his children. I tried to pull away to make room for them, but he tightened his grip, telling me silently to stay as they appeared at my side, Wade the closest.
"Don't be afraid," Rick said gently. "Don't hide. I'm here." He let go of my hand and touched Sadie's heart. "I'm here."
Tears slipped down my cheeks, and Wade broke, his face bending, his hands fisted in the sheets as he dropped to his knees, his forehead pressed into the mattress.
"My boy," Rick whispered, cupping the back of his head. "I'm sorry to leave you."
Wade's shoulders shuddered, and I pressed my hand over my mouth, but the pain wouldn't stay down, stay in — it poured out of me, raw and burning.
"Don't be afraid," Rick said again as he looked us over, his voice thick and rough.
"Don't be afraid," he whispered to himself, eyes closed.
The girls bent to hold him, and I stepped back to give them room, to let them be, this family who I loved so much, unable to catch my breath, unable to see them through the curtain of tears. Wade hadn't moved, but as I backed away, he reached for me blindly, grabbing my hand, pulling me back. And I sank to my knees next to him, our fingers twined together; we existed only in our grief.
In that grief, time moved without purpose, an absent ticking from somewhere in the room, meaning nothing to us as we were swept away. The surge of emotion overwhelmed us, and when it ebbed, it pulled back through the sand with a whisper, taking us with it.
Wade didn't let go of my hand, just sat once he'd calmed with our hands tied together in his lap, his head bowed and shoulders bent. And when he finally looked up, his eyes held honesty and truth I wasn't prepared for. That moment broke my heart again, just when I thought it couldn't be broken any more.
He let me go, and we moved to stand, finding Rick smiling at us proudly with a quivering chin and eyes full of hope.
"You're what I give to the world, what I leave behind. I am proud." He said it slowly, every word with intention, with concentration, as if it were the most important thing he'd ever say. "Now, we have truth. Hold onto it."
We nodded, smiling back through fresh tears.
"Now, ice cream."
Laughter burst out of us, Wade's coming through louder, clearer than the rest, warming my soul. And I realized how much he'd needed that, needed Rick, needed to be. It had set him free, if only for a moment.
Jeannie and Lou were in the doorway, hanging onto each other while they watched us. Jeannie moved her hand from her mouth, wiping her tears as we dispersed, moving for the kitchen, but Wade stayed behind, leaning in to speak softly to his father.
I closed the door behind us as we left, hoping he could say all that he needed.
"I wasn't sure if we should have stayed or gone," Jeannie said to Sophie as Sadie gathered bowls and Lou unpacked gallons of ice cream from the freezer.
"It's all right," Sophie answered. "I'm glad you stayed. You should spend as much time with Dad as you can."
"Thank you for that. I … This is almost as hard as when we lost your mom." She smoothed Sophie's hair. "I'm just so sorry."
Sophie breathed deep, grey eyes shining. "Me too."
We piled up bowls full of ice cream scoops, different flavors in different bowls for him. I arranged them on a tray as everyone made their own bowls, and we filed back into the room. Sophie and I sat on either side of Rick, taking turns giving him samples of all the flavors we brought. I was on his bad side, so I made sure I was swift enough not to let any fall from his lips.
He chuckled after swallowing when I'd caught a particularly drippy bite. "I'm like a baby."
I smiled. "You're far too handsome to be a baby, Rick." It was true — he and Wade looked just alike, with a strong jaw, gray eyes, and dark hair, though Rick had shocks of gray at his temples.
"Nah. Need a bib. Reminds me of Sadie and the sweet potatoes."
Sadie rolled her eyes. "Oh, God. Not this again."
Wade laughed around a mouthful of ice cream, catching my eye with the spark in his, reminding me so much of days long ago spent just like this. I saw him, the boy I loved, in that moment.
"Man." He shook his head at Sadie. "I've never seen such a mess. I told you she didn't like them, Dad."