Faster We Burn

waiting for him to wake up.
    I reached out to touch his face and it was cool.
    “What happened?” I said in a whisper. My voice was still too loud. Mom’s hand gripped mine so hard I knew I would have bruises.
    “He was just coming home from work and I was asking him about paying a bill and then he said his chest hurt. I…” her voice broke for a moment, but she took a breath and continued, “I called the ambulance and he was still alive when they got him in and the doctors thought he was going to make it, but then…” she didn’t need to say the rest. Then he didn’t.
    There was another knock at the door and I turned my head, expecting to see Stryker standing behind me. He was gone. Where did he go?
    A nurse came in and spoke in a hushed voice. There was another woman behind her in a smart suit.
    “I’m sorry, but we’re going to need to make a decision about what we’re going to do with him. This is Becky, our grief counselor.” What did she mean, what they were going to do with him?
    Becky stepped forward and started talking in equally hushed tones with Mom.
    I looked back at Dad. He didn’t even have one of those stupid gowns on. He still had his work clothes. Flannel shirt and khakis. He had a whole closet filled with them. I brushed my fingers on the soft material which had been washed so many times it was thin and had threads hanging here and there. Mom hated that.
    “C-can we have some more time?” Mom started to cry again, and I didn’t know what to do except keep holding onto her.
    The nurse looked genuinely sad. I wondered how many times she’d had this conversation.
    Becky stepped forward.
    “I am so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Hallman. Why don’t you and I sit down and have a little talk?”
    “We’ll get you some coffee,” Kayla said, getting up from her chair and giving Adam a look. He nodded and left the room. She was about to try and take me too, but Mom stopped both of us.
    “I’m not leaving him!” she shrieked and the sound shattered the eerie calm. “I’m not leaving him!” She fell next to the bed, letting go of me and reaching for Dad’s hand. “I can’t leave him,” she said, holding his hand in both of hers.
    “You can’t leave me,” she whispered, and I knew she was speaking to him. “How dare you leave me?”
    “Why don’t we give her a minute,” the nurse said, putting one hand on my shoulder and another on Kayla’s. I didn’t want to leave him, either, but I couldn’t be in the room anymore with Mom that way.
    I still couldn’t cry. Everyone else had done a lot of it; even Adam had red eyes. With an iron grip, the nurse steered us out of the room as Mom sobbed and whispered to Dad and Becky rubbed her shoulder and tried to get her into a chair.
    “Does this happen? A lot?” The words were sticky and hard to get out of my mouth.
    “Yes,” she said, letting go of me. Kayla crushed me in a hug and started to cry.
    “I’m so sorry you weren’t here,” she sobbed.
    I didn’t have anything to say in response, so I just kept hugging her as she cried on my shoulder. Finally she let go and wiped her eyes.
    “Did you drive up?”
    “No, Stryker brought me.” I looked around and found him leaning against the wall about ten feet away. He was staring off into space and I watched him for a moment before his gaze slid to meet mine.
    “Thank you,” Kayla said, letting me go and walking toward Stryker before putting her arms around him and hugging him tight. “Thank you so much.”
    His arms hung limp for a moment, as if he didn’t know what to do. Then, hesitantly, he wrapped them around her waist and returned the hug.
    When she let him go, he cleared his throat and looked at the floor.
    I walked over to him and he looked up.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    “You’re welcome.” His voice was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. Adam came around the corner then, balancing several cups of steaming coffee.
    “Here,” Kayla said, handing me one. Adam handed her a napkin and she blew her nose on it.
    I should want to cry. When your dad suddenly died of a heart attack, you should want to cry. You should sob until you don’t have any tears left. I should be like Mom, or at least like Kayla. I shouldn’t feel like this was some sort of elaborate joke, and that any second someone was going to tell me this wasn’t real, and then I could go back to normal. I was still waiting.
    Stryker watched me as if he was waiting, too.
    I held out my hand and he