Read Online Unstable by S.E. Hall - Free Book Online

at the funeral home.
    I have no clue of my mother’s standing in the community—how social she was or wasn’t—but it doesn’t matter, there’ll be more people in attendance than I even know. And the thought of even just one showing up is every bit as terrifying as one-hundred.
    Not that the whole town doesn’t already know I’m back; between Addison no doubt informing her generation, and Donna, albeit harmless, unable to stop herself from telling the Bridge Club. But everyone being aware is a whole different beast than actually having to face them…all at once.
    While memorializing, then burying, my mother.
     

     
    I’D SWEAR THE TWO days never happened. It feels like the call just came two minutes ago…but it’s time. Gatlin rides with me to the memorial service, unasked but very much appreciated. I’m pretty sure he knows how wrapped up in a ball of nerves I’ve spent the last couple, almost non-existent, days. Barely eating or sleeping. But I now feel somewhat better, knowing this seemingly dependable man, no longer what I consider a stranger, will be there with me.
    “I’ll be right beside you, Henley. If it’s too much and you want to leave, just let me know.”
    That’s certainly an option, one which I’ve already considered, but adamantly dismissed. Why go at all if only to just run out, once again proving to everyone I’m weak…disappearing anytime things get tough?
    No, I’m not seventeen anymore, and it’s my mother . I won’t be the runner this time. I’m done giving away undeserved power for free. This town no longer gets to shame me into hiding, or robbing me of a single, final moment I will ever have with the woman who gave me life.
    We arrive about fifteen minutes early, on purpose, and we’re still late. I’d forgotten how Ashfall time worked—if you’re not at least thirty minutes early—you’re late.
    Nelson’s parking lot is packed and the hardware store’s lot next to it is half-full with the overflow. People are stopped at the door of the funeral home, waiting in line to enter.
    “Okay, no, no fucking way, oh my God!” I ramble out my panic in one long string…then yelp, “What was that?”
    “You ran over the curb,” Gatlin doesn’t quite laugh, or quite sigh, but he’s straining to hold in some kind of reaction over there. “Henley, how ‘bout you get out and head on in, people will let you pass, and I’ll park then meet you inside. Sound good?”
    “Um, not at all, it sounds awful. You want me to walk in alone and cut and weave through everyone lined up?”
    I slam the truck into park and rest my forehead on the steering wheel, balancing precariously between holding back on vomiting and maintaining actual oxygen intake.
    “There’s…so many…” I take another deep breath, “people here. No one will even notice if I don’t go in.”
    Except my mom. And everyone else I love looking down from Heaven.
    And Donna.
    And I’ll know. That I let them win, again . Hurting greatly my efforts to stop putting new things in the “reason to hate yourself” column.
    “Henley,” he drawls, gearing up for a pep talk…that I no longer need.
    “Save it, you’re right.” I throw open my door. “I can do this. And thanks…for parking. I’ll see you in there.”
     

     
    I DON’T SEE HIM in there. In fact, gun to temple, I couldn’t be sure who I see. It’s all a buzzing blur of suffocating hugs, condoling words that sound like underwater babble, and so many bodies crammed in the room where my mother’s casket lies, closed, because as Donna explained, “it’d be more respectful that way, even though they did all they could,” I’m surprised the Fire Marshall—oh, he’s in here somewhere—hasn’t written out a ticket.
    “Do you need anything, honey?” Donna asks, finding me backed into a corner, using the Ficus tree as a shield…not well enough apparently, since she spotted me.
    “Are we almost done? It’s been hours, the food’s gone, it’s