Can't Let Go (6 page)

The pain was strong, sweeping through her as a wave might wash over her body. 

She heard a voice over the intercom calling for early boarding on her flight.  But she couldn’t move.  She was paralyzed, caught in place, breathless. 

You can do this, Abby,
she thought to herself. 
Get up and get on that plane.  Hayley needs you.

Slowly, her feet began to move.  Within the next several minutes, Abby had situated herself on the plane, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes.  She heard people filing by for at least the next half hour but she didn’t move.  She listened for the familiar sounds of the flight beginning to take off.

Then, at last, there was the quiet hum of the engine—the voice of the pilot over the intercom.  She sighed softly, trying to calm herself—trying to force herself into sleep. 

Trying to force herself into a reality where
this
was only a nightmare.

~*~

She woke with a start just over two hours later.  She was disoriented—unsure of where she was or what she was doing. 

It only took a moment for it all to come back to her. 

She sighed, staring at the magazines she had tucked in the seat in front of her.  The thought of looking through them revolted her. 

The seat beside her was empty and she was grateful.  A pad of paper was tucked in the seat in front of the empty seat and she reached forward, removing it.  She had a pen in her purse and she decided it was time to start writing things down—just notes, things she needed to take care of. 

It was good to be able to concentrate on tasks rather than emotions.  She needed to keep that level-head that Hayley had always bragged about on Abby’s behalf.  She needed to keep her mind busy so that her heart wouldn’t tear itself apart.  She needed to stay occupied—because otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to hold it together. 

And that was not an option.

The rest of the flight went quickly as she prepared herself for everything that was to follow.  She had decided to wait to call her dad until she knew more details—had decided to ignore her phone entirely until she had settled in. 

The airport was a busy one—but nowhere near as busy as in L.A.  She exited the plane and tried to ignore the familiarity that swept over her.  She’d done this before. 
A few times.
  Those had been happy visits. 

This was not going to be like that. 

She had arranged for a rental car when she had reserved her ticket and she navigated through the airport until she found a shuttle.  Everything was done on auto-pilot—the signing of papers, taking care of her luggage, the programming of the GPS system.  Abby was sure she would remember the way, but just to be certain—she didn’t want to take any chances.  She already felt as if she was running behind.

The south was one big, beautiful landscape.  There were mountains and fields, woods and water.  She had always been swept away by the beauty of the surroundings.  It was easy to understand why Hayley and Blake had fallen in love with it so quickly.  Neither had ever been much for the mundane—and they had definitely chosen the right place.  All they had to do was drive a couple hours in any direction and instantly they would find a change. 

She had always envisioned a life similar to this.  California had never been her ideal home.  She had often imagined a life elsewhere—maybe some place on the lake, some place where the weather changed.  She too grew tired of the monotony—not nearly as much as Blake and Hayley, but enough that it made a difference. 

Abby sighed, flipping on the radio and turning it up.  She couldn’t keep thinking about them—not yet. 

It didn’t take long for her to arrive in the small town, and as she neared, she called the Sheriff’s office once again.  His secretary directed her to the small funeral home within town.  Abby found it easily—
Allensville
really was a small town and it was easy to navigate. 

Hayley and Blake had fallen in love with
it’s
charm.  Never had either of them experienced the kind of life they could have here—both having grown up in large, urban environments as opposed to the beautiful rustic area they had moved to.  Hayley and Abby had grown up in Beverly Hills, while Blake and Logan had grown up in Boston. 

Early on, the four had often joked of moving out to the middle of nowhere—living in log cabins in the woods.  All were tired of the fast-pace of the city—even Hayley and Abby. 

The funeral home was a small, family run business.  She could tell as soon as she pulled up.  The building was actually a house, with a simply-stated sign out front.  She took a deep breath as she turned the ignition off.  This was it—she needed to hold it together now.

Abby emerged from the rental vehicle, her golden hair blowing in the breeze.  A pair of sunglasses she had purchased from a gas station along the way adorned her face, but she still squinted from the brightness of the sun.  She wore a pair of black dress pants and a plain white top—she had spent quite some time trying to decide what to wear before leaving L.A.  A matching black jacket was draped over her arm—a simple precaution, in case the weather was chillier than she’d thought.

It took her several long moments to gather the nerve to continue forward.  Finally, though, with a deep breath, she pushed her shoulders back and made her way across the yard, opening the front door and walking in.

She was greeted by a subtle smell of flowers and very quiet music.  It was meant to be calming, but the instant she walked in, she was aware of how wrong all of this was.  She shouldn’t be here.  She shouldn’t be in this position.

“Hello, Miss,”
  she
was a young girl, sitting at a desk to the right.  Abby smiled uncertainly before stepping forward.

“Hi,”
  she
paused.  “My name is Abigail Lewis—I was told I should—”

“Of course,”
  the
girl rose to her feet, quickly making her way around the desk.  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”  Abby nodded, unsure of how to respond to such a comment.  She’d heard it over and over again when her mother died, and she never knew how to respond.  “Hayley and Blake were
wondeful
people.”

“They—”
  Her
voice caught in her throat.  “They were,”
  she
finished, swallowing hard at the ball in her throat.  “I’ve never really done this before—”

She was too young to have had to plan a funeral, wasn’t she? 

“That’s fine, sweetheart.  That’s what we’re here for.”  The girl was very pleasant and obviously willing to lend a hand.  “Most of the details have already been taken care of, but we’ll just need a few signatures—”

“Taken care of?”  Abby questioned. 
“By who?”
 

“Well, of course we were waiting for your approval—”

“Who?”
  Abby questioned again, confused.  Hayley had made clear that her family was no longer welcome in her life—Abby thought she had made that clear last night.  They wanted nothing to do with her in life—why should that change in death?

“Well,”
  the
girl looked over Abby’s shoulder and instinctively, she turned. 
“By Mr. Sheppard, of course.”
 

And as her eyes landed on the familiar shaggy haired figure, she felt her heart drop in her chest.  “Hello, Abby.”

“Hello, Logan.”  She whispered. 

It was hard to control the wave of emotion that passed through her as she stood there, staring at him.  It had been at least six years since she’d seen him last.  The morning he’d left her was probably one of the worst experiences of her life—and the pain had not lessened with time. 

She cursed herself as she stood there, wondering exactly why she hadn’t thought of this.  Surely she should have expected Logan to be there—Logan was Blake’s best friend.  She knew the two had remained close.  Even if she had doubted it, Hayley made certain to remind her all about Logan Sheppard every chance she had.

Abby found it difficult to breathe for a long moment.  She watched as he rose to his feet and walked toward her.  It was obvious he didn’t know how to greet her.  “
You doing
okay?”  His voice was so warm—so comforting, even though she knew it shouldn’t be.  She wanted to be angry—she wanted to be upset. 

But she couldn’t. 

Her emotions were out of control, bouncing back and forth from one to the next.  It only made sense that she would find the familiarity of him comforting.

Seeing him brought another wave of memories wafting through her mind—memories of happiness and laughter. 
Memories of her friends, memories of him.
  She felt her eyes well up with tears and she was grateful she still wore her sunglasses.  She wasn’t prepared for this—not for any of it.

“I’ve been better,”
  she
whispered, her voice shaky. 

“I could have guessed that.”  He reached out, as if to touch her, but she backed away. 

If he touched her, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it together. 

Logan looked down, his eyes trained on the floor.  Her instinct—some stirring of emotion buried deep within her—told her to go to him, but she stayed still, too stunned to move.  She couldn’t believe that he was here—in front of her. 
Here
, of all places. 
The tiny little funeral home in this tiny little town.

“I’ve—I—”
  He
paused, clearing his throat.  “I’ve picked out some—”  She could tell that he was having difficulty saying whatever it was he was trying to say.  “I looked at the caskets.  I picked out the ones I thought they would like best.  You can—”

“I’m sure you did fine.”  Her voice was still barely louder than a whisper.  “You know what they would like and wouldn’t.”

“I thought you could pick out the flowers—you’re better at that than I am.  We’re supposed to bring in some…clothes.  And we’re supposed to choose a plot.”

“We?”
  She was returning to her daze.  This was all just too surreal.  She’d imagined running into Logan many times throughout the years they’d been separated—but never like this. 
Never under these circumstances.
  She always imagined being able to call Hayley and tell her how it went—to tell her how she felt as she met his eyes for the first time after so many years had gone by. 

But she wouldn’t be able to do that now. 

“I mean—if you don’t mind me being here.” 

“I…”  Abby was suddenly feeling very light headed. 
“No—no, sure.
 
Of course.
  They were your friends, too.”  She shook her head, feeling silly. 

She was an adult now.  Those fantasies were from a long time ago, when she was a silly girl with a freshly broken heart.  Logan Sheppard was simply a man she used to date.  Not only that, but they had both just lost people they deeply cared about.  She took a deep breath, vainly attempting to steady herself.  “Did they ever say anything about what they wanted or—?” 

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders and she realized that he was just as lost and shaken as she.  She fought the tears that had formed in her eyes and swallowed hard at the ball in her throat again. 
“No—not really.”

“I figure—so long as they’re together…”  The ball was almost impossible to ignore now, the tears threatening to spill over. 
Hold it together, Abby.
 

“That’s what I thought, too.”  He agreed and she nodded, taking a deep breath, again trying to steady herself.  “Should we have a viewing?” 

“I…”  She shrugged her shoulders.  “I really don’t know.”

“Allison suggested at least one day of viewing.  She said that Blake and Hayley had a lot of friends—plus it gives people coming in from out of town time to arrive for the funeral…”

Abby nodded.  “Sure—that sounds fine.”  Memories from her mother’s funeral flashed across her eyes.  She remembered being too afraid to even go up to the casket—too afraid to look.  “Do you think—I mean, maybe Friday? 
And the funeral Saturday?”

Logan nodded now.  “That’s what Allison suggested.” 

“Then that’s settled.”  She took a deep breath. 

“We should have a wake.”  And Abby looked up, unexpectedly meeting his eyes.  Even through the heavily tinted glass, she could see the intense gray of them.  Once upon a time, she’d been able to stare into their depths and know exactly what he was feeling—but now she was so startled by their intensity that she was nearly knocked off balance. 

She felt her heart flutter—a sensation she’d nearly forgotten about. 

“You know Hayley would hate to have everyone just standing around crying.  She’d want people to remember the good times.”

He was right.  Hayley would cringe at the idea of people mourning her.  “That’s a good idea,”
  Abby
told him, breaking the gaze, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.  “
Hayl
…she hated people fussing over her.”  Her throat restricted further and the room once again swayed. 

“Okay—I’ll go let Allison know what we’ve decided.”  She reached out to steady herself, but there was nothing there.  “You okay, Abby?”

“I just—I need some air,”
  She
shook her head.  “I’m going to step outside—”

“You sure?”
  She nodded then, desperate for some distance.  She needed to get away from him—from all of this.  She was losing control. 

“Yeah—yeah, just meet me back outside—”
  And
with that, she turned away from him, making her way back toward the door she had entered through.  The cool air hit her like a ton of bricks and she braced herself against the railing of the porch, breathing in deep breaths, willing the pain to go away. 
It’s
okay, Abby.  It’s going to be okay.
  She insisted to herself. 

There was no other option—things
had
to be okay. 

She heard the door open behind her and she knew he was there, even without looking.  She’d always had a bit of a sixth sense when it came to Logan Sheppard.  “I told her we would go look at plots today.  She gave me a map to let me know what was available.”  Abby nodded, still unable to speak.  The ball in her throat was too much to bear.  “Are you sure you’re okay, Abby?”