The End is Now Read Online Free Page B

much left to look forward to.
    Except the wedding.
    If the rapture really were going to happen (and of course it wasn’t), the thing he would be most upset about missing would
     be the wedding. He could see how beautiful and perfect and angelic Emily would look in her crystal white dress. He would be
     there with a handkerchief to wipe away her tears right before they walked down the aisle. He would say, “You look perfect,
     honey,” and she would hug him tight, maybe for the last time, as she said, “I love you Daddy.” The music would swell, all
     would stand, breathless, as they watched his little girl walk down the aisle. And he would grin from ear to ear with each
     step, feeling so proud, knowing that giving her away would be the bittersweet crowning achievement of being her father.
    “Hey Dad,” Emily said glancing toward Jeff as he walked through the door.
    “I’m home,” Jeff said.
    “Hello honey,” Amy said as she covered her hands with oven mitts and put the roast on the table. “How was your day?” she asked.
    “It was all right.”
    “Any sales?”
    “I have a couple of good leads. I’m hoping one or two of those will pan out tomorrow.”
    “Gotcha,” Amy said. “Emily, Will, come on, it’s time for dinner,” Amy said.
    “Roast for dinner again?” Emily asked as she took a seat.
    “Yes, roast for dinner. Where’s Will?”
    “I don’t know. I’m not his babysitter.”
    “What time is it?” Amy asked.
    Jeff checked his watch. “7:13.”
    Amy walked outside. Jeff followed.
    “I’d say it’s dark out, wouldn’t you?” Amy asked.
    “Pretty close.”
    “Will asked if he could go to Nate’s house. I told him yes but he had to be home
before
dark. He said he would. I said, ‘Do you promise?’ and he said, ‘Mom, I
promise
.’ Jeff, he’s got to learn some responsibility.”
    “Totally agree,” Jeff said.
    “You don’t think he’s hurt? Do you?”
    And then a flash came to Jeff: Will, listening to his iPod, singing along to whatever as he crossed the road at the exact
     wrong moment as teenagers were speeding by in a Cadillac. They’d slam on the brakes, but they’d be going too fast, and it’d
     be too late.
    The thought made Jeff sick. He wished he wouldn’t think like this. But fears often popped into Jeff’s head. Probably because
     at such an early age he learned how fragile life was. He learned that you could just be going along and then something could
     happen that could change everything. For Jeff it was going from being single and carefree — and then
snap
— a wife and a baby. It made Jeff wonder what other things could suddenly change without a moment’s notice. When he was driving
     he could picture his tire popping and the car flipping over and over. When Jeff was at work he could imagine Amy driving with
     Will and Emily in the car, someone drifting into their lane, and —
BAM
, the end — Jeff would be left alone to plan the funeral for his entire family.
    Sometimes the fears weren’t even realistic.
    Sometimes Jeff could see kidnappers or thieves in his house, his family tied to wooden chairs with coarse ropes and shotguns
     aimed at them. Other times he could see random ways his family could be harmed — Amy taking a bath and the hairdryer drops
     in, Will landing on the trampoline wrong and snapping his leg, Emily parked with some drunk jock pawing at her after home-coming.
     It would be easy to say how morbid Jeff was for thinking about such things. And Jeff would agree, it was morbid, and he didn’t
     want to dwell on things like this — in fact he didn’t
dwell
on them at all.
    They just kind of popped up. Like flashes. Quick. He’d shut his eyes and the image would be gone. The fear would still be
     there, for a moment, and he would tell himself there was nothing to worry about.
    He told himself and his wife there was nothing to worry about at that moment when he said, “Will’s fine. He got caught up
     playing at Nate’s and lost