I truly understood what complete loneliness felt like when I stood beside my little girl’s coffin and realized my own sister had considered balloons more important than the funeral.
Nancy was seven years old.
The accident had happened eight days earlier.
Seven.
The pastor said her name softly, as if he were afraid it might shatter even beneath the church ceiling.
I clasped my hands in front of me because I knew that if I touched the smooth wooden coffin one more time, I would never be able to let go.
The neighbors filled the pews.
Nancy’s teacher sat in the front row.
TWO POLICE OFFICERS STOOD QUIETLY AT THE BACK, HOLDING THEIR CAPS IN THEIR HANDS.
Nancy’s best friend clutched a sunflower with trembling fingers.
My family did not come.
Not my mother.
Not my cousins.
Not Rosie.
Still, I kept looking at the door again and again, waiting for her to rush in at the very last second.
For her to come breathless, crying, apologizing.
But she never came.
After the funeral, I stayed by Nancy’s grave for a long time.
The pastor left without a word.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Calder, pressed a warm casserole into my hands.
— Promise me you’ll eat something, Cassie?
— I promise. Thank you.
She squeezed my hand.
— Call me if you need anything. I mean it. That little girl is going to be missed so much.
ALL I COULD DO WAS NOD.
At home, I set the food on the counter and stood motionless in the kitchen.
Nancy’s rainbow magnets were still on the refrigerator.
Her shoes were by the door, as if she might run inside at any moment.
Finally, I began speaking out loud because the silence was unbearable.
— Did you see how many sunflowers they brought you, Nance? You would have loved them…
The kettle’s whistle startled me.
I made two cups of tea.
Out of habit.
My phone suddenly began to ring.
For one brief second, I hoped it was Mom.
That she was finally saying something.
But it was Rosie.
Her voice was too cheerful.
Too light.
As if we were not even living in the same world.
— CASS, YOU SOUND SO TIRED! I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW WE MOVED THE HOUSEWARMING TO TODAY. THE WEATHER IS PERFECT. YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GET EVERYONE TOGETHER.
My hand went completely numb around the phone.
I remembered exactly how she had rushed me a week earlier:
“Take Maple Road, it’ll be faster, Cassie!”
I had not even finished packing Nancy’s snack.
— Nancy’s funeral was today.
There were a few seconds of silence.
Then Rosie continued in the same tone.
— CASSIE, THIS IS MY FIRST HOUSE. YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME. PEOPLE ALREADY BROUGHT GIFTS. YOU CAN’T SERIOUSLY EXPECT ME TO CANCEL EVERYTHING JUST BECAUSE—
— Because my daughter died?
Rosie sighed.
— You make everything so dramatic. Nancy died. Are you jealous because something good is finally happening to me?
I tightened my grip on the phone.
— Jealous?
— I didn’t go to the funeral because I had things to do. People were counting on me. Couldn’t you be happy for your sister for once? I’m building my life!
— And I buried my child today.
HER VOICE TURNED COLD.
— And I bought my first house. How long are you planning to bring up Nancy’s death every time something good happens to someone else?
My legs weakened.
I sank into a chair.
— Is Mom there? — I asked quietly.
— She already left. She brought chocolate cake for lunch. By the way, everyone asked if you were coming.
I swallowed my sobs.
— Maybe I’ll come.
ROSIE’S VOICE BECAME RELIEVED.
— Good. Just try to be positive, okay?
Before she could say anything else, I ended the call.
Then I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time.
— I will not scream. I will not fall apart. But I am going to look her in the eye.
Rosie’s new house stood at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac.
Green and gold balloons swayed from the mailbox.
Laughter spilled out into the street.
PEOPLE WERE CARRYING GIFTS INSIDE.
Nancy had loved green balloons.
That thought almost made me collapse, but I kept walking.
A woman from the book club squeezed my arm.
— Cassie… I didn’t expect you to come.
I tried to smile.
— Neither did I.
Rosie opened the door before I could knock.
FOR A MOMENT, SHE LOOKED SURPRISED.
Then she forced on a fake smile.
— You came.
— We need to talk — I said. — You scheduled your housewarming on the day of my daughter’s funeral.
Rosie immediately looked around.
— Don’t say that so loudly! If you make a scene, I’ll tell everyone you’re unstable. Mom chose me over you too.
— I will not whisper about my child.
— You’re ruining the mood, Cassie.
SHE PULLED ME INTO THE HALLWAY.
— Don’t make everything about yourself.
— You made it about yourself — I replied. — You put your party on the day I buried my daughter.
Rosie exhaled sharply.
— The weather was good today. I am not going to stop living my life just because you are falling apart.
— She was seven years old.
Rosie’s lips tightened.
— And I am thirty-two. People are here because of me.
I looked at her.
— Then say it. Say the balloons were more important.
Her voice sliced through the hallway.
— You wear your grief like a costume! Pull yourself together already!
The room suddenly went quiet.
People began to watch.
Neil, Rosie’s husband, was standing at the far end of the living room with a glass in his hand.
— Rosie… maybe we should talk about this outside — he said softly.
— NOT NOW, NEIL!
— Cassie deserves a minute.
I looked at him.
— Did you know about this?
His eyes were full of guilt.
— Yes.
Rosie immediately stiffened.
— Neil… don’t you dare.
HE SET DOWN HIS GLASS.
— Everyone, listen for a moment.
The conversations died away.
— Most of you know that Nancy died last week in a car accident. But what you don’t know is that Cassie was not even supposed to be driving on that road.
Rosie’s face went pale.
— Stop.
Neil’s voice now rang firmly through the room.
— Rosie insisted that Cassie take Nancy across town because we still needed to finish preparing for this party. She told her to take Maple Road, even though there was roadwork there.
I CLOSED MY EYES.
— Rosie said, “It’s just a few minutes faster.” As if those few minutes mattered more than safety.
Rosie’s hand began to shake.
— That is not what happened!
Neil did not stop.
— You asked Cassie to take Nancy and pick up the expensive lamps for our bedroom on the way. All because of the housewarming party.
Someone covered their mouth with their hand.
— My God…
— AND AFTER THE ACCIDENT — NEIL CONTINUED — YOU TOLD ME TO LET EVERYONE BELIEVE CASSIE HAD DECIDED ON HER OWN TO DRIVE THAT ROAD IN THE STORM.
Rosie’s voice cracked.
— It was an accident. Things like that happen.
I looked at her.
— But you set everything in motion, Rosie. Then you blamed me.
Neil took a deep breath.
— I should have spoken sooner. I’m sorry, Cassie.
Then he turned toward the guests.
— THE PARTY IS OVER. EVERYONE GO HOME.
At first, no one moved.
Then, slowly, everyone began gathering their gifts.
Rosie clung to the doorframe.
— No… please…
Neil did not turn around.
— I refuse to keep living in a lie.
One of my cousins stepped forward.
— ROSIE… IS THIS TRUE?
Rosie stared at the floor.
— I only wanted everything to go well…
— You never think about anyone but yourself! — someone snapped.
Rosie suddenly looked at me.
— If you let them blame me for this, Cassie… Mom will never speak to you again.
From the kitchen came a woman’s whisper:
— Who throws a party on the day of her niece’s funeral?
ANOTHER WOMAN SAID OUT LOUD:
— We don’t want people like that in this neighborhood.
Rosie straightened in outrage.
— I have a life of my own too! What do you expect? That I disappear every time something bad happens to Cassie?
I stepped closer.
— Rosie… when you called me, I was standing in my kitchen with a casserole and an empty chair at the table. I had just buried my daughter. There was still dirt under my nails from the cemetery.
Uncertainty finally flickered in Rosie’s eyes.
— I just thought… maybe you needed something to distract you.
— PRETENDING IT DIDN’T HAPPEN DOES NOT MAKE THE PAIN SMALLER.
Neil’s voice trembled.
— Cassie lost her daughter… and you still managed to make even that about yourself.
Rosie’s arms dropped.
Suddenly, she looked smaller.
Older.
Neil picked up his keys.
— Cassie… you don’t have to go through this alone. I’ll drive you home.
BEFORE I STEPPED OUT THE DOOR, I LOOKED AT ROSIE ONE LAST TIME.
— Keep your house. Keep your party. And keep the people who chose you.
Outside, the cold air filled my lungs.
I untied one green balloon from the mailbox and let it go.
I watched it rise above the houses.
— This is for you, Nance. See? You still shine.
Neil stood beside me on the sidewalk.
— Thank you for finally telling the truth — I said to him. — Nothing changes the fact that I buried my daughter today… but at least I don’t have to blame myself anymore.
AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN LONG DAYS…
I could finally breathe.
