Reaching the top of the stairs, Carol paused to gather her composure.

Sensing his wife's distress, Buck took her in his arms.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered in her ear.

"Is it?"

"Have I ever lied to you in 57 years?"

Leaning back, Buck took Carol's trembling hands in his own. He gently stroked her moist skin with his thumbs until the shaking stop, and her hands rested securely in his.

"She hasn't been out of bed in over a week," Carol let out a concerned sigh.

"She's hurting."

"I know, and I want to help her, but I don't know what to do."

"You're doing everything you can," Buck smiled. "You're a champion."

"Oh, honey," a tear escaped Carol's eye, "I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he used his forefinger to push her graying hair behind her ear, "and that's what our little girl needs right now."

She nodded to Buck, indicating she was ready to continue and started down the hall.

*****

"Holly, sweetheart," Carol knocked gently on her daughter's door.

"Go away," Holly sniffed.

"It's time to get up."

"I don't want to."

"I know you don't," Carol sighed, walking in, "but today's the funeral."

"I can't do it," Holly sobbed softly.

Carol sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her daughter's long brown hair away from her face.

"I know it feels that way," Carol paused, "but it won't be this way forever."

"Won't it?"

"We need to get you up and in the shower."

"No," the young woman curled into a ball, pulling the covers to her face.

"If you miss Ted's funeral, you will never forgive yourself."

"I'm never going to forgive myself anyway."

"None of this is your fault, baby," Carol reached for her daughter.

"All of this is my fault," Holly sprang up. "He went into the gas station to get me a candy bar," she gasped in between words. "He paid for the gas at the pump, and I just had to have a candy bar. If I had not asked for that damn Milky Way, he would never have gone in, and we would have driven off, never knowing there was a gunman in the store."

"It's not your fault Holly; you had no way of knowing."

"I might as well have pulled the trigger myself," Holly threw herself back down on the bed, tears streaming from her eyes. "Just leave me alone."

"Alright, that's it," Carol said somewhat firmly as she stood. "You are getting up out of that bed and getting dressed."

Walking across the room, Carol threw open the curtains letting light into the once dark space.

"Mom!" Holly protested, "Close them!"

"No!"

"Mom, please just leave me alone," her daughter cried out.

"Never," she grabbed the comforter, yanking it off the bed and away from Holly.

"Leave me alone!" Holly screamed, clutching onto Ted's oversized pillow.

Burying her head in the pillow, Holly took in what was left of his scent.

"You have to get up," Carol's voice rose.

"I don't have to do anything," Holly roared. "My life is over. I wish I were dead too."

"Honey, you don't mean that."

"Yes, I do," her voice was weak and faint.

"So, the hard way is it," Carol sighed.

Set in her course of action, the determined mother left the room only to return moments later with her burly husband.

"Just like we did when she was in high school," Carol instructed.

"Oh, boy," Buck cleared his throat.

Cracking his neck, Buck limbered up then marched over to the bed.

"Let's go," he said.

Wrapping his arms around his offspring, Buck tugged, hoping to separate his daughter from the bed. Releasing the pillow, Holly gripped the bar of the headboard. The two struggled against one another as she twisted and turned her body.

Releasing his grip, Buck shook out his arms as he turned to his wife, "One second, I haven't had to do this since she graduated."

Circling the bed, Buck leaned one knee onto the side of the mattress and regripped.

"You still have a life to live," Buck said as he gained the upper hand, "and Ted would want you to live it."

With one final jerk, Holly's fingers popped off the headboard as her father lifted her into the air.

"Let me go!" she protested, kicking and screaming.

"Not a chance."

Throwing his daughter over his shoulder, Buck started out of the bedroom and down the hall.

"I hate you!" Holly shrieked over and over as she pounded her fist on her father's back. "Just leave me alone and let me die!"

Kicking open the door to the bathroom, Buck strong-armed his 27-year-old daughter in the shower turning on the water.

"That's cold!" Holly screamed, throwing her arms up, sending water splattering around the room.

"Cold, Huh," her father said gruffly, "If you can feel it, that means you're alive."

Holly scurried around the tub, trying to escape as Buck shifted the showerhead to follow. Letting out a growl, she leaped forward toward the knobs only to be meant with rejection. A large and sudden water folly hit her head-on, sending her flying back. Shaking it off, she scrambled to get a grip as Buck waved the showerhead around at will.

"Turn it off!" Holly shouted.

"Not till you start acting like the girl I raised," Buck said.

"That little girl didn't have to live through this pain.'

"I think the keywords here are 'live through.' You will live through this."

Holly's arms fell to her side as she burst out in tears. Lowering the showerhead, Buck reached over, shutting off the water.

"I just miss him so much, Daddy."

"I know you do," Buck put down the toilet lid and sat. "Life's not always fair," he sighed, "if it were, it would never have taken away your husband in such a manner. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose your mother," he paused. "For that reason, I hope I go first."

Holly Chuckled slightly, pushing her matted hair from her face. "Daddy."

"He wouldn't want this, baby girl," Buck's eyes teared up. "He'd want you to go on, to continue to live your life."

"I don't know how to do that without him," Holly picked herself up, sitting on the edge of the tub.

"You do it one step at a time, sweetheart," Carol appeared in the doorway. "Why don't we start with a shower." She ran her finger across her daughter's cheek. "Here's a robe and some towels." She placed the small stack on the counter.

"Okay," Holly's body sank slightly as she accepted defeat. "Daddy," she said as her father helped her to her feet, "I didn't mean it. I don't hate you."

"Oh, now now," he wrapped his arms around her. "I know. I know."

"Do you need me to stay?" Carol fidgeted with the washcloth in her hand.

"No, Mom," Holly forced a smile, "I've got it."

"Okay," Carol hugged her daughter, handed her the washcloth, and walked out, gently shutting the door behind her.

*****

The church bells echoed in the vast halls of the funeral home as Holly dragged her body through the doors of the viewing room. She moved forward on her systems auto-pilot, barely recognizing her surroundings. Her parents guided her down the aisle into the front row of benches, where they helped her take a seat. The pastor took his place at the podium and began to speak.

"We are here today to honor the life of Ted Baxter," he said. "He was not only a kind man, a worthy chess opponent, and a helpful neighbor; he was also a loving and devoted husband."

Tears ran down Holly's face as she mourned the loss of the man she expected to spend the rest of her life with. Her mind raced with random and painful thoughts. Ted had kept his end of the bargain, she thought; he spent the rest of his life with her, and now here she was alone. How was she to give the rest of her life to him?

The mourners gasped as Holly collapsed forward, landing in her father's arms. Buck nodded to the paster to continue as he cradled his daughter, allowing her to dig her face into his solid supporting shoulders as she softly sobbed.

Exercising a deep breath, Holly sat back up, taking her parent's hands into each of hers. Her eyes were wet and clouded from the river of tears that escaped her inner sanctum. The world was blurred and misshaped. Words were slurred and garbled.

Holly's eyes gazed upon the open casket as she relived the night Ted got shot. She longed to do it differently or to have the chance to hold him one more time, to be able to tell him goodbye; how she wanted to apologize for sending him in that store. If she had the chance, she thought, she would be the one to go into the store. That's what she should have done; she told herself as she pounded her fist against her head. Carol retook her daughter's hand, gently rubbing her arm till she calmed.

The church bells echoed again, noting the passing of the hour. Pulling his daughter to her feet, Buck guided Holly across the room. As they took their place at the head of the receiving line, Holly was vacant and far away. The grieving widow clung to the casket running her fingers down her husband's face. Buck and Carol blanketed their daughter with their open arms until she released her grip and followed them to the limo as the room cleared.

*****

Staring out the limo window, Holly watched friends and family climb the hill to Ted's cemetery plot. She sat silently, hands folded in her lap with her mother by her side. As if he was a bodyguard and his daughter his charge, Buck stood guard outside the limp door. Holly sniffed, wiping away stray tears as they escaped the edges of her eyes. Taking a deep breath, the widow closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. A nod to her mother indicated she was ready to proceed. Carol exited the opposite side of the car and signaled her husband before circling the vehicle to join her family.

Leaning on her father for support, Holly walked up the hill. The crowd parted, bowing their heads as they covered their hearts. Carol waved off those attempting to reach out to convey their condolences and sympathies. She smiled and nodded knowingly, expressing her gratitude for their understanding of her daughter's pain.

Stopping at the top of the hill, Holly gripped her father's hand at the sight of the wooden casket that held her husband inside. A chill ran up her spine. Her teeth chattered as if she were frozen in the autumn breeze. A slight tug by her father propelled her forward toward the fabric-covered folding chairs.

Holly sat motionless as the preacher spoke about her late husband and the senseless violence in the world. Her body numbed as he urged mourners to celebrate Jim's life and that he was returning home. Holly slumped over in the chair, her eyes lost in a distant world. Her breaths whistled through her body as if it had turned hollow.

"It's time to go home, sweetheart," Carol said as the last of the mourners drove away.

"I don't want to leave him."

"I know," Carol fought back tears, "but you can't stay here."

"But you brought me here to be with him."

"We brought you here to say goodbye to him."

"I don't want to say goodbye," Holly whispered, turning away.

"We never do, do we?" Carol sat next to her daughter. "It's always too soon. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose your father," she paused, "for that reason, I hope he goes first."

Holly chuckled lightly, "Mom."

Embracing each other, the two women stood. Buck, understanding the signal walked to them. Holly stepped up to the casket and placed her hand on the chilled glossy surface.

"Forever, my love," she whispered.

*****

Waiting for her parents to finally go down for the night, Holly quietly got out of bed and dressed. Not wanting to alarm her parents to her departure, she resorted to a method she had not used since high school. She climbed out her bedroom window, ran down the block, and caught the Uber down the street.

"Are you sure this is where you want to go?" the driver asked as they pulled into the cemetery.

"Yes," Holly held back her tears, "just over the hill there, please."

After the driver pulled to a stop, Holly paid him then stepped out.

"I could wait for you," he offered.

"It's okay."

"It wouldn't be a problem."

"I have someone coming for me," Holly closed the door. "Thank you for your kindness."

"Okay," the driver shook his head, "be safe."

"I will."

Letting out a concerned and heavy sigh, he drove off as Holly walked to Ted's cemetery plot.

Wrapping Ted's favorite jacket around her, she took a deep breath in.

"You know," she sat next to his freshly shaved mound of dirt, "we never talked about any of this," she paused. "We never talked about one of us dying. We talked about finding the perfect house, how many kids we were going to have, the places we were going to see together."

Holly wiped away her stray tears with the back of her hand.

"We had so many plans for the future," she sobbed. "Plans that are meaningless now. We don't get to have our happy ending. We're like Romeo and Juliet, bound together in tragedy."

Holly rooted in the pockets and pulled out a vile.

"What was good for them is good for us. At least we'll be together."

Twisting off the top, Holly threw the poison back like a shot of whisky.

"Forever, my love."

Laying herself across Ted's grave, Holly closed her eyes as she smelled Ted's jacket one last time.

"Forever..." she let out her final breath joining her husband in death.