The simplicity of Jo’s words and the way she says Allie’s name so freely have emotion clogging my throat and my eyes burning.
“Yes,” I whisper, sure if I speak any louder, I’ll lose the tenuous grip I have on my control.
Jo lets go of my hand and stands, coming around to sit behind me. She wraps her arms around me from behind, propping her chin on my shoulder and saying nothing, letting me have my moment. I cover her hands with mine and lean my head against hers, closing my eyes and fighting the waves of emotion that threaten to take me under. Grief and guilt for Allie and gratitude for the way Jo seems to understand exactly what I’m feeling and what I need and how to help and the comfort I feel with her wrapped around me all tangle together until I’m breathless, crushed by the weight of it all.
“It’s okay, you know,” Jo says, tightening her arms around me.
Despite everything, I huff out a laugh. “Is it though? I forced you to wait for me inside a hospital because I was scared of you waiting outside by yourself, and I protected you from a loud truck. None of that seems normal.”
Jo scoffs. “What’s normal? Who gets to decide that? I mean, fuck Jordan. Your fiancée died. You and Allie were planning an entire future and then suddenly, that future was gone. It’s a pretty tall order to expect yourself not to be affected by that. Give yourself some grace, J. You’re doing fine.”
I close my eyes again, Jo’s words a balm to my still-troubled soul. “You really think so?”
I feel her nod. “I know so. I’ve never grieved like you have, so I could be full of shit right now, but I think there are no shortcuts through grief. I think you have to feel your feelings and do what feels right to you. Some days are good days, and other days you’re protecting your summer bestie from a loud truck on Seventy-Second Street. All of those things are fine and they’re all normal. Grief is a process. There’s no timeline and absolutely no rush. You owe it to yourself and to what you and Allie had together not to skip any steps.”
Jo’s words mend something inside of me that’s been fractured since the night Allie died and suddenly, she is nowhere near close enough to me. Turning on the bench, I tug her into my lap and wrap my arms around her, holding her against me. She stiffens for a second like she wasn’t expecting this, but then she melts into me, fitting perfectly against my chest. I bury my face in her hair and feel everything inside of me settle.
“Thank you,” I mumble.
Jo leans up and presses a kiss to my cheek. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s just being a friend. Anyone would say the same.”
“No.” I pull back so I can see her face. “They wouldn’t. You understand me, Hurricane. Better than anyone, I think. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to be understood.”
Jo’s cheeks turn pink, and something flickers in her eyes so quickly part of me thinks I imagined it. “I do understand you. And you get me too. I think maybe we needed each other this summer.”
My first instinct is to insist that I need her for way more than just the summer, but I shove it down, because summer doesn’t last forever. After Labor Day, Jo goes back to her job in Pittsburgh, and I’ll still be here operating on adults and going back to my white-walled existence that holds no appeal now that I’ve seen what my life looks like with the splashes of color Jo brings to it. But I don’t tell her that. Instead, I just say, “I think so too.”
Jo gives me a sly look. “Are you finally admitting that you love the J’s Summer of Fun?”
I smirk at her, happy to let the heaviness go for a while. “Never.”
She shakes her head. “I’ll get you to admit it. Maybe after our road trip. I’m really amazing on a road trip.”
“I just bet you are, Hurricane.”
She lays her head back on my shoulder and lets out her happy little sigh I love as she stares out at the water. “You know, you never told me why you need to go to Pittsburgh.”
Shit.
“Didn’t I?” I ask, knowing for sure I didn’t.
Jo shifts, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a couple Fireballs, handing one back to me. “You absolutely didn’t. So, why are you going back voluntarily when the last time you were there it was because Jeremy kidnapped you and forced you into the trip.”
I pop the Fireball in my mouth, deciding to just let it all hang out. “I have to meet with Molly about some estate planning type stuff that Allie and I started right before she died. I didn’t have it in me to deal with it until now, but I think it’s time. And also…” I hesitate because the real reason I want to go isn’t the estate planning even though I do have to handle it. The real reason is more complicated, but this is Jo and if I can tell anyone, it’s her. “I want to go visit Allie. I haven’t been since her funeral, and it feels like something I want to do.”
Jo slides off my lap and sits back on the bench, facing me, a smile on her face. “See? I wasn’t blowing smoke up your ass. You really are doing fine, J.”
I narrow my eyes at her, trying to figure her out. “Because I want to go to my dead fiancée’s grave?”
“Because for two years you haven’t felt ready to go visit her, but now you do. You stayed away because you weren’t ready to handle all the feelings being in the cemetery would bring up, and now you’re going back because you know you can.”
I concentrate on the way the Fireball burns my tongue while I consider what Jo said, the way she blew right past the legal crap I could probably just deal with by phone if I really wanted to and zeroed in on the heart of the matter. “But I don’t know if I can. This is an experiment.”
Jo shrugs. “Maybe, but it’s a good experiment. It’s another step to healing, and I think you’ll surprise yourself.”
“How so?”
“I think you’ll like being there. Talking to Allie. Telling her about your life now.”
