said stiffly。 He looked down and realized his knuckles were white from gripping the iron railing。 He loosened his grip and held out his hand。 The Archibald men weren’t huggers。 His dad took his hand； but instead of shaking it； gave it a gentle squeeze before turning crisply on his heel； heading down the stairs and up the avenue。 There was hardly any traffic today； as if out of respect for the dead。
“You okay； man？” Chuck asked； clasping Nate’s shoulder。 Nate nodded； glad that Chuck had insisted on ing with him。 In a crisp charcoal Turnbull and Asser suit with a white handkerchief in his breast pocket； Chuck looked like he had back in high school； but he still acted like the guy Nate had e to think of as his best friend at Deep Springs。
Nate squeezed his green eyes shut； hoping when he opened them he’d discover he’d been dreaming during one of his daily naps in the cow barn。 But when he opened his eyes； he saw the dark； overcast sky； hovering above the Upper East Side rooftops。 The clouds looked ominous； ready to unleash a torrent of hail that would destroy the white lilies outside the church。
A tear begin to trickle down the side of Nate’s nose。 He squinted to try to stop the flow； but it was no use。
“Fuck it。” He roughly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand。
“Dude； you okay？” Chuck pulled his gold Gucci aviators out of his pocket and handed them to Nate。 “You’re crying；” he remarked； unnecessarily but not unkindly。
“Thanks； man。 It’s just a lot…。” Nate’s voice cracked。 Chuck had been surprisingly thoughtful this trip； but he hadn’t known Chips； and Nate felt like this was something he needed to handle on his own。
“Are you Nathaniel？” A tiny； elderly woman wearing a pink tweed St。 John’s suit wobbled from the church