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"Life is short and I think if Diane were here now, she’d tell all of you that her greatest accomplishment was the family we made, the love we created. It's people. That's what matters most.
"Diane wore many hats. She was a brilliant lawyer, a devoted friend, loving mother and a damn good wife. I'd have given anything for more time with her, but I'm grateful for the time we did share. God knows I didn't always deserve her, but I tried like hell to at the end."
He folds the paper, looks around the room. "When you leave here today, can you do me a favor and cling to your loved ones a little tighter? Cherish the simple moments. Tell the people you love that you love them. Don't wait. Don't think you have more time. Live in the moment. Have no regrets. I hate that it took her dying for me to realize just how important she was—is—to me. Diane, honey, I know you're up there, looking down. Thank you for 25 of the greatest years of my life. I love you."
Kyle kisses the side of my face as Randy steps down from the podium. Before I can stop myself, I lean towards Kyle, kiss his lips, mouth I love you to him. He squeezes my shoulder.
Matt says a few words next, about how much he loved Diane, what a good mother she was. Her sister stands next, cries so hard no one understands anything she says. Then Diane's boss from Denver offers his condolences, tells a funny story about the strawberry-blond haired woman who could make criminals cry in their jail cells.
It's over much too soon and we all gather out front, in the snow. I shiver as Kyle slides out of his coat, slips it onto my shoulders.
"I'm going to go say 'hi' to my grandparents," he whispers in my ear before striding over to them.
I run my hands over my arms, look around. I spot Matt sitting on the concrete steps of the church.
I chew on my bottom lip, wonder if I should...but then I decide to do it anyway.
My steps are slow as I approach, not sure he even wants to see me right now.
I'm still his friend, I remind myself. I still get to care.
He looks up as I stand in front of him.
"Hey Jen," he offers me a tight smile before his head falls forward and he stares between his legs at the concrete step below him.
I let out a sigh and take a seat beside him. "You OK?"
"Fuck, no," he honestly answers.
I fold my hands in my lap, not sure what to say. I've never felt weird seated beside him before. Never felt that asking a simple question might appear too intimate, might cross too many lines.
I just want to be there for my best friend.
Why can't it be simple? Why can't I wrap my arm around him, cry on his shoulder, comfort him?
Because he's in love with you, I remind myself.
"He didn't forgive her, did he?" Matt asks, motioning towards Kyle talking to their grandmother.
I shrug. "I don't think so."
He nods his head. "He's not going to be alright. You know that, right?"
Do I know that?
"He's not like you, Jen," Matt lifts his head, stares at me with his hazelnut eyes, warm and familiar. "He doesn't deal with anything. He runs."
"He won't run from me," I assure him. "He loves me."
Matt exhales. "When we were younger, my mom used to hit my dad sometimes. She was usually drunk, and it didn't leave any marks. She would slap him, punch him in the jaw. It was, uh, hard to see. Kyle always locked us in a dark closet somewhere. He always took care of me, made sure I felt safe."
"Why are you telling me this now?" I shake my head, not understanding what he's trying to say.
"He doesn't have anyone who takes care of him, who looks after him," he explains. "He's always been the protector. But right now, I think he needs you to be the one who takes care of him. Keeps him safe. Locks him in a dark closet when he can't deal with what's going on."
I feel my mouth getting dry. "I'll keep that in mind."
Matt sits up straight, runs a hand through his tawny hair. "I was hoping she would meet my daughter. I really wanted her to be there for that."
