CASSIE
Sometimes stuff just is.
(Beat.)
here we were, where we used to be. The twins, Matthew and Luke. Then there was John…and Peter. Peter was the funny one.
He’d find these dead flowers on the ground, and he’d try to water them with spit and give them to me. One time, his mouth is so dry, there’s hardly any spit—you know, like he gets no distance—and so it’s dribbling all over his chin.
And so he smiles and gives me these dead dandelions and then he realizes he’s got this glob all over his chin, and he’s trying to get it with his tongue while he’s still smiling and bowing and holding out the flowers. I’m like, “Peter, I think the dandelions could use a few more drops.”
And he says, “I think you’re right.” And he wipes them on his chin and put them in my hand.
(Beat.)
He was the first to go. Andi says that’s so he could be at the gates for us. I don’t know what that means. I just know he’s gone.