Fly Away Read Online Free PDF Page A

with Lucas beside her. Wills was in the corner,
     watching the movie with his arms crossed, looking angry and isolated.
    “Hey,” Johnny said quietly, closing the door behind him.
    “Dad!” Lucas lurched to his feet. Johnny scooped his son into his arms and held him
     tightly.
    Bud climbed awkwardly out of the cushy papasan chair and got to his feet. He looked
     rumpled in his out-of-date black suit with a white shirt and wide polyester tie. His
     pale face, marked by age spots, seemed to have added creases and folds in the past
     weeks. Beneath bushy gray eyebrows, his eyes looked sad. “I’ll give you some time.”
     He went to the bed, thumped Sean on the shoulder, and said, “Wake up.”
    Sean came awake with a start and sat up sharply. He looked confused until he saw Johnny.
     “Oh, right.” He followed his dad out of the room.
    Johnny heard the door click shut behind him. On-screen, brightly colored superheroes
     ran through the jungle. Lucas slid out of Johnny’s arms and stood beside him.
    Johnny looked at his grieving children, and they looked at him. Their reactions to
     their mother’s death were as different as they were, as unique. Lucas, the tenderhearted,
     was undone by missing his mom and confused about where exactly she’d gone. His twin,
     Wills, was a kid who relied on athleticism and popularity. Already he was a jock and
     well liked. This loss had offended and scared him. He didn’t like being afraid, so
     he got angry instead.
    And then there was Marah; beautiful sixteen-year-old Marah, for whom everything had
     always come easily. In the cancer year, she had closed up, become contained and quiet,
     as if she thought that if she made no noise at all, caused no disruption, the inevitability
     of this day could be avoided. He knew how deeply she regretted the way she’d treated
     Kate before she got sick.
    The need in all of their eyes was the same, though. They looked to him to put their
     destroyed world back together, to ease this unimaginable pain.
    But Kate was the heart and soul of this family, the glue that held them all together.
     Hers was the voice that knew what to say. Anything he said would be a lie. How would
     they heal? How would things get better? How would more time without Kate soothe them?
    Marah rose suddenly, unfolding with the kind of grace that most girls would never
     know. She looked sylphlike in her grief, pale and almost ethereal, with her long black
     hair, black dress, and nearly translucent skin. He heard the hitch in her breathing,
     the way she seemed hard-pressed to inhale this new air.
    “I’ll put the boys to bed,” she said, reaching out for Lucas. “Come on, rug rat. I’ll
     read you a story.”
    “Way to make us feel better, Dad,” Wills said, his mouth tightening. It was a dark,
     sadly adult expression on an eight-year-old face.
    “It will get better,” Johnny said, hating his weakness.
    “Will it?” Wills said. “How?”
    Lucas looked up at him. “Yeah, how, Dad?”
    He looked at Marah, who looked so cold and pale she might have been carved of ice.
    “Sleep will help,” she said dully, and Johnny was pathetically grateful to her. He
     knew he was losing it, failing, that he was supposed to provide support, not accept it, but he was empty inside.
    Just empty.
    Tomorrow he’d be better. Do better.
    But when he saw the sad disappointment on his children’s faces, he knew what a lie
     that was.
    I’m sorry, Katie .
    “Good night,” he said in a thick voice.
    Lucas looked up at him. “I love you, Daddy.”
    Johnny dropped slowly to his knees and opened his arms. His sons pushed into his embrace
     and he held them tightly. “I love you, too.” Over their heads, he stared up at Marah,
     who appeared unmoved. She stood straight and tall, her shoulders back.
    “Marah?”
    “Don’t bother,” she said softly.
    “Your mom made us promise to be strong. Together.”
    “Yeah,” she said, her lower lip trembling just a little. “I