The To-Do List: Chapter Three

Three days had passed since Mitch and I said goodbye to Mel. Mr. and Mrs. Hannen had gone to the morgue to identify her body and, unfortunately, it was her. They had been busy planning a funeral for their daughter, my parents helping as much as possible. Mitch hadn’t been around much and I didn’t blame him.

Each morning so far, I found myself looking out my bedroom window, across the street to Mel’s, remembering all the times we’d communicated with flashlights and big gestures. Once we got cell phones, we’d text one another. Go to your window! It was one of our little secrets. Even if one of us was grounded, we always had a way to communicate.

I stared into her dark bedroom, willing her to appear, smiling and waving. She didn’t. I closed my curtains and headed downstairs. Mom and dad were in the kitchen sipping coffee silently. I approached the coffee machine hesitantly and poured myself a big cup.

“Um… good morning,” I said quietly. They both looked up at me.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” mom almost whispered. She cleared her throat and smiled. “How did you sleep?”

I was surprised that she asked this. The last three days had been such a blur, and sleep was something that none of us had gotten enough of. “Oh. I slept okay, I guess.” I shrugged and gave her a small smile in return.

“Ben and Liz are going to pick out a–”

“Sam,” mom said sternly. She softened as she looked back at me. I eyed them suspiciously as neither of them said anything, but clearly had something to say.

“What’s going on?” I asked. When they remained silent, I took a sip of my coffee and stood directly across the counter from them. I waited for one of them to crack and make eye contact with me. I knew it would be dad.

“Why don’t you have a seat, honey.” Dad patted the bar stool next to him and I walked over. “Your mother and I…” he trailed off, glancing at mom. “Well, you know we’ve been helping the Hannens as much as possible with all of the funeral arrangements.” I nodded, taking another sip of my coffee.

“Stella.” Mom spoke now, looking me in the eye. “Liz has requested your help with something, but only if you’re feeling up to it.”

I knew exactly what she was going to say. It was something Mel had joked about for the last few years, especially when she was in a manic state. She had a dark sense of humor when it came to our mental instability, which we both laughed at more than we should’ve.

“I’ll go with them.” I said easily. Mom and dad exchanged worried glances. “I mean, if that’s okay?” I realized they hadn’t actually said what this task was just yet, so I continued. “They want my help picking out a coffin, right?” I didn’t look at them when I said this.

Dad nearly choked on his coffee. “I guess we don’t need to worry about her fragility,” he said with a small but sad chuckle. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed.

“Yeah, um…” I stopped myself, wondering if this was something my parents needed to know. I decided to go for it, as secrets wouldn’t benefit any of us at this point. “Mel used to joke about that kind of stuff… when she was in a manic state, mostly.” I paused, waiting for their reactions. Dad just raised his eyebrows, mom shook her head. “So, one time…”

I continued telling them about the time that Mel had half-joked about the type of coffin she wanted when she died. Dark oak, silk lining, gold trim. She was very clear that she did not want to be cremated. “That just seems so morbid, burning someone’s body after they’re dead,” she had said in disgust. And she wanted Mr. Stuffins in there with her. Mr. Stuffins was her stuffed bear that she got for her fifth birthday.

Mom took in a big breath. “Okay, then!” She stood up, clearing our coffee mugs from the counter and busying herself with the nonexistent dishes in the sink. Dad watched her for a moment then focused his attention on me.

“I guess I better go get ready.” I gave dad a kiss on the cheek and glanced at mom one last time before heading back upstairs to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, I was taking the steps up to Mel’s porch and knocking on the front door. I waited with my hands in my pockets, looking anywhere but at the door. I heard the lock click and my eyes landed on a very distraught-looking Mr. Hannen.

“Hi, Mr. Hannen,” I said gently, unsure if a smile was appropriate.

“Stella.” His mouth morphed into something that resembled a smile, but wasn’t quite right. “I assume your parents talked to you about what we were hoping to get done today?”

I nodded. “Yeah, and I’d be happy to help.” He opened the door all the way, inviting me inside. We sat quietly in the living room as Mrs. Hannen finished getting ready.

Mel’s dad was a handsome man with brown hair and a groomed beard that sprouted a few white hairs. His green eyes were always bright and welcoming and his smile lit up any room he was in. Today, he didn’t look like himself. His hair was disheveled and his beard was longer. He had dark bags under his now-dull green eyes.

As we sat in silence, I found myself watching him as he stared blankly out the front window. His body was completely still aside from his chest rising and falling with each breath. I heard Mrs. Hannen on the stairs and stood up slowly.

“Morning,” I said with a smile. She smiled back, sort of, and wrapped me up in a hug.

“Ben?” He looked at her, sighing as he stood up from his chair. “We should get going.”

After two hours, I had picked out a coffin, which was an exact match to the one Mel had described so many times. I mentioned to her parents that she would like to have Mr. Stuffins with her and they actually gave me a small chuckle.

They took me to lunch, although I argued that it wasn’t necessary. I remained quiet most of the time, only speaking when it felt absolutely right. On the drive home, I watched their facial expressions as they glanced at each other, held hands, and sighed. Mrs. Hannen sniffled a few times, and I knew she was holding back tears.

We pulled into their driveway and I hopped out of the backseat. “Thank you for lunch.”

“Thank you for your help, Stella.” Mrs. Hannen gave me a quick hug and headed inside. Mr. Hannen gave me a nod and followed closely behind her. I watched them disappear into their house before heading across the street to mine.

Mom and dad were gone. I found a note on the kitchen counter telling me they’d be home around seven. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my social media pages. I switched over to my art Instagram and posted the picture I’d taken of the yellow tulips with a quick caption about loss.

Now that you’re gone, I see you in everything around me. I know your mind is clear, but I will miss you dearly.

After scrolling aimlessly for another hour, I decided to check my email, which is something I would do maybe once a month unless I was waiting for something important.

Junk, junk, junk, spam, junk, Mel Hannen.

My heart jumped and I clicked on the email with Mel’s name as the sender, immediately reading the first line. It was a letter. To everyone she left behind. Her parents, Mitch, me, my parents. I checked the date and noticed it was sent the day she died, just before we met at the beach.

“I want to make today a great day.” She had said this that day, just before we ran to the water. This was her plan all along, and I didn’t see it.

I suddenly felt a lump in my throat. A sob escaped my mouth and I threw my phone at the wall, screaming at the world. My hands trembled as I struggled to catch my breath, and I screamed again. Only this time, it came out as a whimper and I let my body fall onto my bed, defeated.

I had just picked out a coffin to bury my best friend, then found her suicide note, which she had emailed only to me. In that moment, everything felt more real than it had the last three days. Mel was truly gone, and there was nothing I could’ve done to change it.

A couple hours later, I opened my eyes and realized I had cried myself to sleep. I slid off of my bed, grabbing my phone, and noticed a small dent in the wall. I sighed loudly and checked the time. Just after six. I still had a few hours of daylight left and I knew exactly how I was going to spend it.

Mel had left me the list for a reason. She wanted me to continue living my life, and she wanted me to do better than she had. So, that’s what I was going to do. I still wasn't sure how to bring myself to show the letter to everyone, so I tucked that away in my mind for another day.

I pulled the list out of my desk drawer and opened it up, scanning it for the hundredth time.

Number six: For the love of God, make some new friends.

Okay, Mel. I guess it’s time to go to a party.