I almost said no, remembering how deadset Shane had been about keeping me out of the room. But she’d come over and was rubbing my back a little bit, so I guessed it was okay. They would have cleaned her up by now, anyway.

I nodded and extricated myself from Helena’s arms, following the doctor the short distance to Alice’s room. She was covered up to her chin in a soft blanket, but her face was bare, and I could have sworn she was sleeping. I almost laughed and told the doctor there’d been a mistake, but as I watched, her chest didn’t rise as she breathed. She wasn’t doing that anymore, and for as much as it broke me, it brought it home.

I didn’t stay in there long. I had so much I wanted to tell her, but she was already gone, and I couldn’t stand to look at her and see no movement at all. Shane had been right; I didn’t want to see her like this. I wanted to remember her as the person who had been so full of life she gave it to me.

I was only in there for about five minutes, and when I came out, Charlie was outside talking to Helena. From the little I overheard, he’d been there for awhile, as had Kallie. They just hadn’t wanted to disturb us, so they’d waited in another small waiting area not far from the one Shane was still staring blankly into space from. I hugged my kids and then went to help Shane, who wasn’t looking good.

“Come on,” I told her. “Let’s go home.” I wanted to cry forever, but for the moment, I was simply too tired. I put my arm around Shane’s shoulders and helped her out to the parking lot, where Jenny met us before we’d taken ten steps. She hugged Shane and I together, then took Shane into her arms and held her. She whispered something to her, and Shane nodded. Jenny looked at the rest of us and mouthed that she’d call very soon and that she was sorry, then got Shane into the car and drove away.

Helena told me that she’d called everyone, and I nodded. It made sense. Charlie insisted on driving me home, saying he’d pick up my car tomorrow. I was too tired to argue and went with him without a word.

**********

Alice’s funeral was nice, I suppose. As funerals go. I’d gotten her the steel grey casket she’d wanted and put in the will, although I suspected that was largely a joke. It was in there, though, so I did what she wanted.

Since she hadn’t believed in God, I suggested that my kids and I say something at the service. Everyone thought that was a good idea, and both Kallie and Charlie gave beautiful speeches. Everyone in the church was crying when they were done, including the kids themselves. When it was my turn, I had to take a few seconds to compose myself to walk over to the little lectern by her casket. It was closed, as she saw that as far more dignified, but I still told her I had no idea what I was doing and that I was sorry if I fucked it up.

“She was…my life,” was all I got out before I started crying. “I’m sorry. I just can’t stop remembering all the beautiful things about her and all the things she gave to me and to everyone. I miss her more every second.” I had to stop there. There was really nothing else I needed to say, and she wouldn’t have wanted me to get all tongue tied trying to think of something else just to fill time.

The burial was over fast, probably because I was so damn numb. Everyone threw a handful of soil onto her casket, and that was that. We filed out and got into the limos to head to the Planet, where the after-service was being held.

I won’t lie and say that it was fun, but it wasn’t horrible. Alice had left us a lot of good memories, and as I stood there looking at my friends and my kids, I knew we’d go on holding each other up. We always had, and there was no reason to stop now.

Fin