Then Came You (16 page)

“C-can I see her,” Dana asks hesitantly; her whole body is shaking, but I don’t breathe a word as the doctor nods and opens the door to her bleak room, which follows the white theme.
There's no beeping machines
, however. And there
definately
isn't any pain on the woman's face.

She lies in the bare bed, pale and empty of life. Her whole body is limp and
a coolness
emanates from her like a strong aura. She's wearing a loose hospital gown, which blends in with the paleness and the silver of her hair, making her look like a ghost. Dana gasps and collapses to her knees against the bed, pressing her face into the white sheets and breaking down.

“No, no, no, no…” 
She shakes her head softly with each murmur, trembles wracking through her body. She looks up, tears marks sticking to her ashen cheeks as she stares at the pale face of the woman she worshiped. “Please, you can’t just 
leave 
me.”

“D-Dana?”
I gulp, not knowing what to do as I stand in the room. She doesn’t hear me, and I take it as a sign as I stand there awkwardly, watching the whole scene, helpless and hopeless. I don’t know how to comfort my own best friend.

She sniffs and takes the wrinkled hand in her own, shaking at the coldness. “Please, I love you. I 
need 
you. I don’t know what to do without you, I-I-I” She starts crying again, and a nurse walks into the room and gasps, wrapping her arms around Dana and pulling her away from the woman on the bed.

“Dear,” she says sweetly, ever so professional at comforting grieving people. She’s an expert, and Dana could benefit so much more with her here instead of me; I’m no use here.

The robust red-headed nurse looks up at me with milky brown eyes. “Are you related to this girl in any way?”

I gulp.
“Y-Yes.
No. I’m her best friend. We’re like sisters.” She nods in understanding.

“Well, she’s going through a very difficult time right now – will you be able to take care of her?”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not even here!” Dana snaps, glaring at the nurse. “I’m sorry, but you have no idea what I’m going through, so just leave me alone!” She sighs and turns to me, weak and vulnerable once again. “D-Darcy, can I maybe stay at your house tonight? I really don’t want to be alone.”

“And I wouldn’t leave you alone,” I tell her, wrapping an arm around her. “I-I’m here for you, Dana. I know that probably doesn’t help in anyway, but I’m here for you.”

She breathes out shakily and takes my hand with a shaky, small smile. “Thank you,” she whispers. “That means so much to me.”

The first few days of Dana’s grieving are crazy and tiring. She’s angry and moody one minute, snapping at me and everyone else. The next, she’s screaming and having nightmares, crying her heart out. And then sometimes, she just goes quiet, her eyes wide and distant, silent tears rolling down her pale, sunken face. She hasn’t eaten, she’s stopped sleeping because of the nightmares, and she’s barely spoken to anyone about how she feels and what she’s going through.

Eventually, Remy and Joey turn up to the house all guns blazing and demanding that she get her act together.

“You’re wasting away!” Remy screamed at her.

Joey nodded fiercely. “You need to get out, Dana. Live again, talk to someone, 
do something.
 You’re scaring us all, baby girl.”

She shook and started to cry again, making them both freeze. “Shit,” Joey said, guiltily. “Maybe that was a bad idea.”

Remy starts to sniffle like a little girl. “W-we only wanted to try and make her better. We thought she’d argue back or something and then, y’know…”

I nod in understanding. As a matter of fact, I know how 
both 
sides are feeling, and what they’re going through.
Because I’ve been in this kind of situation myself.
Which is why I haven’t pressured Dana or anything; she needs to grieve, and I’m willing to let her. She’s strong, so she’s not going to turn out like I was. She’s willing to fight this.

But just in case, I’ve got a back-up plan. Later that night, I borrow her unused phone and sneak into the empty kitchen to dial the number. Dana needs someone who knows her more than anybody else, someone she shares a connection with. Someone who can 
make 
her talk without hurting her too much.

The phone dials three times, before he picks up with a gruff “
y’ello
?”

“Oh, hi,” I whisper. “Is this Alex…?”

Twenty Three

Alex turns up that next morning filled with worry and concern. He looks at me and nods to the stairs. I nod silently, step out of the way and wait as he walks inside and makes his way upstairs. I close the door gently and walk into the kitchen, making myself a cup of tea as I wait for it to happen.

It starts with a scream and a bang. A few curse words. They begin to argue, but I block it all out as I stir the sugar in with the spoon and hum gently to myself. If Tyler could help me, then Alex can help Dana. It doesn’t matter the situation; love is love, and love can accomplish anything.
Corny, but true.

Eventually, the shouts die out, and then the worst part comes; the crying. That hurts the most, and I have to force myself not to run upstairs to comfort her as I sip my tea. Alex is up there with her, I remind myself. He needs to comfort her himself, or it’ll never work.
Do it for Dana.

For a long while, I can’t hear anything, which means my plan must be working. I hear footsteps down the stairs – two pairs – and I look up to see Dana and Alex walk in hand in hand and smiling thinly at me. Dana looks more alive today; her eyes have a small glimmer of life and there’s a flush on her cheeks for once.

“W-we’re going to go out,” Alex informs us.

“Yeah,” Dana says after him. “W-we have a funeral to organize.” She winces at the mention of the funeral, but otherwise stays the same. I fight the urge to smile as they walk out the house still holding hands. When they’re gone, I fist pump the air with a huge grin on my face: Dana is going to be
alright.

“I want it to be white and yellow. I want it to be
pretty.
” Dana is telling us over and over, her eyes puffy as she looks over the magazines. We’ve spent half a day up to now planning her Grandma’s funeral, and she’s still not satisfied. But I can understand that: she wants it to be perfect.

I smile at her and nod. “Then it will be; trust me, she’ll love it. It’ll be the perfect way to say goodbye.”

She sighs, “I hope so. Promise me you’ll stay by me the whole time?”

I take her hand and squeeze it. “I promise.” And then the alarm on my watch goes off, meaning I have to get to work. I give her an apologetic look, but she waves it away instantly.

“Don’t worry about it: you’ve got to work, Darcy. You can help me when you get back, if you want. But you never know
,
I might have finished by then.” She sighs and leans back on the stool to watch me grab a coat and my satchel to leave for work. I turn to smile at her and wave reluctantly, and she returns it. “Stop worrying! Seriously, get to work.”

I laugh at her forceful tone and do as she says, yelling bye out load and closing the front door behind me. It feels weird having Dana alone in my house, and yet it feels almost natural. I just hope to God dad doesn’t show up out of the blue.

Clara is humming when I get to work, a long plait sticking out under her cap and she’s swaying randomly as she stacks chocolate wrappers onto the shelves. I smirk, sneak up behind her, and press my fingers in the sides of her ribs, making her jump and yelp.

“Darcy,” she snaps once she turns around. “I thought you weren’t coming in today: didn’t someone die?”

“Oh, how very subtle of you, Clara,” I scoff sarcastically.

She shrugs casually. “Eh, you know that isn’t my style. Anywho, what are you doing here? I’m sure Boss-Man will give you time off.”

I shake my head sadly. “Honestly Clara, I just need to
do
something right now. I feel stuck at that house and not being able to help Dana that great, almost like I’m a horrible friend and I have no use there.”

“I understand,” she says slowly after thinking it over. “You do whatever you think is right.”

“I’m trying,” I murmur as she walks away to get more chocolate bars. “I just don’t know if that’s enough.”

The funeral was going to be on the Saturday, and we were all going to attend. Dana, Remy and I had gone shopping for an outfit, but in the end, Dana had decided to wear on of her Grandma’s dresses because she wanted to feel closer to her. She hadn’t shown it to us, but I doubt that’s because she wanted it to be a surprise. She most likely just felt like she wanted it to be kept a secret from the world, something between only her and her Gran.

We’d finally bought white lilies and yellow daffodils: both of her Ma’s favourite flowers. Everyone was ordered
not
to wear black, and to dress as happy as they could. She couldn’t tell them not to cry, but that was a given: Dana will probably be crying herself.

I sigh and look down at the white net dress, feeling like I should dress more appropriately for a funeral, and yet also knowing that this is what Dana wants. I don’t put on any makeup and I put my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck. Besides me, Remy is wearing a lilac plain dress and a white cardigan over the top, looking as normal as she ever could, despite the pink hair. She’d put it in a plaint and is wearing a chunky white headband, so the colour isn’t as in-your-face.

As for Dana, she’s still in my bedroom, crying slightly as she gets ready. We’d all decided it would be best to leave her be, and soon enough she was making her way downstairs. She looked stunning in the yellow vintage dress, with frills and everything. It made her look innocent and girly, with her white hair loose and wavy, her make-up more natural and not as much, and she’s got a little white flower in her hair.

“Ready, guys?”
She asks us softly, and we both chuckle.

“Shouldn’t we be asking you that?” I remind her with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugs with a tiny, almost none-existent grin. “I follow my own rules. You should know that by now, Darcy.”

“Trust me, everyone knows,” Remy jokes lightly, before taking both our arms and leading us outside, where Joey is waiting for us with his black car. He’s wearing a black suit, but because Dana insisted on colour, he’s also sporting a spotty orange and green tie. Tyler is also with him, wearing a pair of black pants and
a navy shirts
with the sleeves rolled up, and a white tie around his neck.

The drive to the church is quiet, just like you’d expect a ride to a funeral to be. We’re all lost in thought as Joey pulls up outside the ancient building and we climb out and join the already huddled collection of family and friends of Grace Winters.

Dana walks timidly up to the crowd and makes light chit chat as we stand awkwardly to the side, feeling out of place. We’re only here to pay our respects to Grace and to give moral support to Dana: we don’t know any of these people, and they don’t know us.

And then, the pink haired woman from the diner walks over, wearing a red blazer and skirt, bright enough to give her lipstick a run for its money. “Hello again,” she says in her perky voice.
“Small world, huh?
So how did you guys know Grace?”

“We’re friends with her granddaughter,” Joey says, nodding his head in the direction of Dana, who is talking to
someone
we can’t see.

She nods slowly. “Grace and my mum were the best of friends, and neighbours. Grace was like an auntie to me. My name’s Marlene; I don’t suppose any of you have some gum?” We shake our heads and she sighs, turning away to talk to some other people.
Probably people with gum.

“She’s so weird,” I muse as I turn back to the guys. They nod slowly, even Remy.

“Maybe she’s a crazy cat woman,” Remy says randomly.

Joey looks at her like she’s mad, his eyebrows
raised
. “Yeah,
she’s
the crazy one.”

The funeral was sad, colourful and filled with memories and life all at the same time as we sit at the front on a pew besides Dana, who is sat between me and Joey, with Remy next to Joey, and Tyler at my side. Both Dana and Tyler are holding my hands, and Dana’s tightens every now and then, and I know that she’s trying not to cry.

And then, the vicar announces that it’s time for some speeches, and one by one people stand up to talk about how Grace had changed their lives and their memories. Some were funny, some tragic and some were just normal life situations. When the last person sits down, Dana surprisingly stands up, and I watch as she walks slowly up to the altar and faces everyone with a heartbroken expression, a scrap of paper shaking in her hands as she starts to speak.

“W-When I was a little girl, my Ma always used to tell me that I was her special princess, and that I deserved the world. She would hug me, kiss me, and tell me that she loved me with all her heart. M-my parents didn’t feel the same way, and my mum and dad moved to the other side of the world for work, leaving me with the only woman who really loved me.