The Long Way Home Read Online Free PDF Page B

that everything on the menu was heavy. A green vegetable would have balanced things out nicely, but as it turned out, Jazzy didn’t seem to notice the lack.
    “This is delicious,” Jazzy said, more than once. She loved to talk and was good at it, telling stories about the people she knew from her job. Her gestures, punching the air in enthusiasm, were the equivalent of exclamation points. Her joy was so evident; it was hard to believe she needed to be in a grief group.
    It was nice to have company for dinner, Marnie decided. Before, when she lived with Brian and Troy, the mood was always serious. Brian had been so quiet, and not because he was paying attention. More often than not, he had mentally checked out. And it had nothing to do with her; she was sure of that because he was the same with his own son. Troy would talk about his school day—something funny about one of his teachers, or a food fight in the cafeteria—and later Brian would claim not to know anything about it. Living with Brian had been lonely, she could see that now. He was as much company to her dead as he was alive.
    When there was a pause in the conversation, Marnie asked, “If it’s not too personal, do you mind if I ask who died?”
    Jazzy looked puzzled. “What do you mean?” she asked, helping herself to another serving of sweet potatoes. “No one died.”
    “I mean for the grief group at the rec center. Why did you sign up?”
    Jazzy cleared her throat and said, “It’s not really for me. It’s just that I seem to come into contact with a lot of people who have lost loved ones. I wanted to learn how to be sensitive to what they’re going through.”
    “Oh.” That made sense. So why did Jazzy look like Marnie had caught her in a lie? Odd.
    “I’m not technically signed up for the class,” Jazzy said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I thought I’d try it out first.”
    “I didn’t know you could do that,” Marnie said.
    Jazzy shrugged. “I’m not sure it’s allowed. I just sort of barged in on my own.” She changed the subject. “Why did you sign up? Who died?”
    “I was living with someone,” Marnie said, sighing. “A man. He was my fiancé, but we never got close to getting married. We probably never would have married, actually,” she said, being truthful. Brian had talked of marriage but never gave her a ring, never even discussed setting a date. Over the years, she found herself falling out of love with him, but she never considered breaking up and moving out, not even once. Even as her feelings for Brian faded, her love for his son, Troy, grew until it became bigger than anything she’d ever experienced. Sometimes when he had a bad dream, he’d call for her from his room, and his cry of “Marnie” was so frantic and blurred that it sounded just like he was saying “Mommy.” The first time it happened, a swell of love for the boy imprinted on her heart. To leave Brian would have meant leaving Troy, and that was unfathomable. She’d been his substitute mom since he was four, and he depended on her. “He was only forty-five and he died unexpectedly. We were together almost ten years. I was very attached to his son. I felt like he was mine.”
    “I’m sure it was a great loss for you.” Jazzy gave her a small smile, and something about her expression, the sympathetic look in her clear blue eyes, made Marnie want to cry. Brian’s death had happened so quickly: she’d been in the basement doing laundry when it happened. First she heard a loud thump that turned out to be Brian falling to the floor, dead from a heart attack. Then Troy frantically yelled for her. “Marnie, Marnie, come quick!” She’d run up the stairs to see him kneeling over his dad, shaking and crying. The rest of what happened—the call to 911, the ambulance arriving—was all a blur. What was clear in her memory was how Troy had hugged her harder and longer than he had in years. After they carried Brian away, it was just the two