Goodbye for Now Read Online Free PDF

her glasses or stumble off the couch or collapse in pain or try to call for help or even feel a little thirsty, for her water glass was still full. Too quick to have been painful, they assured her. Not too long ago, they assured her. Nothing you could have done anyway, they assured her.

    At the funeral, Sam held Meredith’s hand and met her parents and other relatives and all of Livvie’s friends. Meredith introduced each deliberately and generously, for their benefit as well as Sam’s. “This is Naomi. She and her husband used to go dancing with my grandparents in the fifties. She and my grandmother go to the theater together a lot. Naomi is quite the dancer.” And, “This is Ralph and Ella Mae. They’re my grandmother’s favorite dinner-and-a-movie companions.” And, “This is Penny. She lives downstairs. She’s my grandmother’s best friend. She just lost her husband, so Grandma’s probably hanging out with Albert even as we speak.” And then Meredith and Penny hugged and cried and rocked back and forth, and Sam waited awkwardly, hands plunged in pockets, for some way he could be helpful.
    Meredith’s parents, meanwhile, looked almost as uncomfortable and out of place as Sam. Julia rubbed damp eyes with too-long sleeves pulled all the way over her clenched fists and tucked phantom strands of hair behind her ears. She looked grateful for her daughter’s social graces on this unspeakable occasion, but every time she acknowledged an introduction or tried to smile, she started crying again. Kyle sized things up and decidedMeredith was holding it together better than Julia and so stayed by his wife’s side like they were a wedding cake topper. This proved to be true of Meredith’s parents though even when all was well. Kyle and Julia were Kyle-and-Julia-against-the-world. They were Pacific Northwest islanders and liked it that way. They owned a rainy, weathered ceramics studio, ran a shop out front, lived upstairs, ate from the garden they kept all around the place. They spent their days making pots and talking about art, taking wet, meandering walks along the beaches holding hands, exploring endless coves by kayak. It took a long ferry ride followed by a long drive to get them to Seattle, to which they referred unironically as the “Big City.” They weren’t stoners or off-gridders or even vegan or unshowered. They made beautiful art and a pretty good living besides. But they cultivated detachment, separation—from the world, from real life, from their loved ones even. They had few friends and didn’t talk to Meredith unless she called and didn’t talk to Livvie unless she called either. They loved their only child absolutely, of course. But they loved their twoness too.
    In stark, stark contrast, there was Meredith’s cousin.
    “Dashiell Bentlively.” He offered Sam his hand and toothpaste-ad smile.
    “But not really?” Sam smiled tentatively, not wanting to offend but pretty sure that couldn’t be anyone’s real name.
    “Nope, not really”—Dashiell winked—“but that’s the one I use. Even Mom admits it’s a better fit than the one she chose.”
    “I hadn’t met him yet when I picked the original,” Meredith’s aunt Maddie shrugged.
    Dashiell was Julia’s brother Jeff’s son. He and Meredith were born on the same day, so they considered themselves twins though in fact they had little in common but a birthday and a grandmother. Dashiell lived in L.A., sometimes gay, sometimes straight, making money hand over hand over hand over fist somehow near Hollywood but not actually in the film industry. Meredith didn’t understand or pretend to understand or ask too many questions, but they were close anyway.
    “I guess I’m the matriarch of the family now,” he said after the funeral.
    “What about me?” said Julia.
    “You don’t have the legs for it,” said Dash. He was making a good show of it, but he was a bit of a mess.
    After the funeral, after everyone finally went home,