Startled, she opened her eyes and saw the funeral director standing on the bottom step. She’d met him once before, when she’d brought clothes for the burial and pictures for the montage. “Yes.”

“Mrs. Ryan asked me to give you this.” He held out a big black box.

“I don’t understand.”

“She entrusted me with this box and asked me to give it to you on the day of her funeral. She said you’d be standing out front when it started.”

Tully smiled at that, even though it hurt like hell. Of course Kate would know. “Thanks.”

She took the box and walked down the steps and across the parking lot. Across the street, she sat down on an iron park bench.

There, she took a deep breath and opened the box. On top lay a letter. Kate’s bold, left-slanted handwriting was unmistakable.

Dear Tully—

I know you won’t be able to stand my fucking funeral. You’re not the star. I hope you at least had the photos of me airbrushed. There are so many things I should say to you, but in our lifetime we’ve said them all.

Take care of Johnny and the kids for me, okay? Teach the boys how to be gentlemen and Marah how to be strong. When they’re ready, give them my journal and tell them about me when they ask. The truth, too. I want them to know it all.

It’s going to be hard on you, now. That’s one of the things I regret the most. So, here’s what I have to say in my beyond-the-grave letter (very dramatic, don’t you think?):

I know you’ll be thinking that I left you, but it’s not true. All you have to do is remember Firefly Lane, and you’ll find me.

There will always be a TullyandKate.

It was signed:

BFF

Kate

She pressed the letter to her chest.

Then she looked down in the box again. There were three things left.

A Virginia Slims cigarette with a yellow sticky note on it that read, Smoke me.

An autographed picture of David Cassidy that said, Kiss me, and an iPod with headphones that said, Play me and dance.

Tully laughed through her tears and lit up the cigarette, taking a drag and coughing on the exhale. The smell of smoke immediately made her think of their nights on the banks of the Pilchuck River, lying against fallen logs, staring up at the Milky Way.

She closed her eyes, put her head back, and tilted her face to the cool autumn sun. A breeze touched her face and tangled in her hair, and with it, she thought: Katie.

Suddenly she felt her friend beside her, above her, all around her, inside her. She heard Kate in the whispering of the wind overhead and the skudding of the golden leaves across the pavement.