The Art of Being a F*ck Up

10. Parents: They Fuck Us Up

Her name was...actually, I don't think that really matters at this point, not anymore. Maybe it did once, but that's just one more thing being buried with her today. Who she was, all she'd ever done, how exactly she died—the last thing she wanted to say to her son—all of its gone, finished. She and I had only spoken a handful of times, I'd never gotten to meet her face to face, but it still makes me sad. I can't begin to imagine how Jonah must be feeling, no matter how brave he pretends to be. He's usually so well-spoken, but from the second he got the news he's just been quiet. Like, the kind of quiet that scares me.

It was a relief when he asked if I'd come here with him, I know I'm a stranger, the odd man out, but I didn't want him to be alone. Jason flew out ahead of all of us to make the arrangements, so he hasn't been as available for him as he should be. But the worst part's almost over, it's so surreal, I keep waiting for Jonah to cry but he just won't. I get that they were estranged, or whatever, but you'd still think he would've shed at least one tear by now. Maybe he's in shock. The most he seemed to be concerned with was how adversely flying out of state would affect my grades—though I suspect that's a clever distraction to focus on anything other than this funeral.

He must hate them as much as I do.

The few minutes I've taken in the bathroom to finish getting ready is the longest I've been out of his sight for days, so I'm a bit anxious to get back to him, but when I return to the full glory of our motel room he's exactly where I left him, slouched over at the table in the corner with his phone open to a blank screen. I hate seeing him here like this. I hate this shitty room and the stiff suit I've got on too, but mostly my heart breaks from seeing him so heartbroken. Everything's wrong, my guess is it will be for a while, but I'm determined to make the most of the situation for Jonah's sake.

Things may suck all around, but I really have gotten good at being what people need me to be, so no matter what else I've got going on, no matter my own problems, right now I'll be this for him. Jonah is all that matters, and seeing how much he needs me provides all the strength it takes to rise up and be nothing but stable, and tough.

"My dad wanted me to say something during the service," he manages, his voice masterfully calm as I take a seat on the corner of the bed. I'm sure he thinks he's doing a far better job of fooling me than he actually is, because I can hear something there, deeply rooted beneath his polite sentiments. "But I can't think of anything."

"Maybe it's because you're trying too hard." From what I understand she lived a very antiseptic life, she worked long hours and didn't spend a lot of time at home. Jonah did tell me she liked reading those cheesy romance novellas and watching daytime soaps, but I wouldn't be surprised if that's all he knew about her. She was real nice whenever I talked to her, and even though it was only for a few minutes at a time, she always struck me as the kind of mother who just wanted what was best for her son.

"What do you say about someone you never knew?" Jonah turns in his seat so that he can face me. He's obviously hit the same wall, but the way he stares over with those sad eyes suggests that he's expecting an actual answer. For whatever reason he thinks I'm the expert, that this makes us alike now that his mom is gone too.

"You said you were like seven when she left, right? Isn't that old enough to have some memories?"

"I can't remember anything."

"Then just tell your dad you don't want to do it, he won't be mad. You have to do whatever it takes to get through today, Jonah, that's what's important."

"You're right, I know, it's just, my head's all mixed up." A long breath escapes him, and when he can't bear to be alone another minute he moves to sit on the bed beside me, taking my hand. It's the only comfort I can offer, but it's enough, and he sits there quietly for a long while before he speaks again. "Thanks for coming out here with me, I hope you don't mind."