donât want to complain to you, Alice,â I say between sniffles. âYouâve been through something so much worse.â
âItâs all relative, Marla. I may have lost a child, but truth is, you were closer to your mother than I
ever
was to my child.â
âStillâ¦â I say getting up and brushing the damp from the grass off my bottom.
âDonât you have a meeting today?â
âYeah, but how do you know?â I ask.
âYou told me last week, remember?â
âI canât stay long. I just didnât want you hanging here wondering why I didnât show. Iâm meeting with the college advisor about my schedule for fall semester. Besides, Iâm not in the mood for cemeteries. Not today.â
âHad one of those days last week. Today Iâm better.â
âI used to read those ads in the newspapersâyou know the ones people take out on the anniversary of some loved one, post a photo from when they were twenty-one, even though they died at like age seventy and say, âGone but not forgottenâ and Iâd think to myself, âItâs been twenty years since that person died, arenât they over it yet?â Little did I know. You never get over it.â
âYou just learn to live with it,â we both synchronize. And then she slaps my back a single time and rises up.
âYouâre almost through the holiday hurdles,â says Alice. âAfter Motherâs Day youâve got about five months off until Thanksgiving rolls around.â
âThe Fourth of July doesnât count for much.â
âUnless you were the child of Thomas Jefferson.â
âNo,â I chuckle. âI wish. But no relation.â
âFunny how we have to get
through
our holidays now instead of enjoying them.â
I head toward my car, pausing to snap a couple of lilac branches from a nearby tree. âYou know, Alice, if Iâd married Eddy, Iâd have a husband now, a family to be there for me. You got me thinking about things. You ever think about the highlights and lowlights of your life, Alice?â
âIâm still working on them.â
I toss the bouquet of lilacs through my car window onto the passengerâs seat.
âHey, you canât do that,â says Alice. âTown property.â And then she winks.
âYeah, whateverâ¦â I shoo her off before waving goodbye.
âBad girl,â she yells out. âSo you
can
be daring after allâ¦â
âIf you call stealing lilacs a risky dare.â I say, opening my car door. âLook out world, here I comeâ¦â
âHey, itâs a start,â she hollers after me. âSee you next week.â
But Iâve already turned over the key to the ignition.
Chapter Ten
My eyes darted around, following the flight pattern of a red cardinal as it swooped down to his mate on the branch, hovered over the rotting porch. The groove worn in the old banister is the only sign that my grandma once sat here in her wheelchair.
My focus shifted to my mom standing before me, struggling to pin a Virgin Mary medal onto the lace collar of that gown that once belonged to Grandma.
âStubborn thing,â said Mom, determined to attach it. Then, âThere, got it,â patting my chest. âSomething old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. Guess we got the blue and the old part right.â
âI wish Grandma were here.â And then I blurt out, âOkay, not really,â at the exact time Mom said it. We both laughed and then hugged tightly.
âSheâd have hated you marrying Eddy,â said my mom, still holding me.
âHated him,â I mimicked. âThat part when the priest says, âis there anybody here today that can give good reason these two should not be wed?â sheâd have chimed in about Eddyâs Irish heritage, kicking and screaming as they removed her from the
Azar Nafisi
Jordan Jones
Michele Martinez
K.T. Webb
K. Pars
J.D. Rhoades
Sarah Varland
Wendy Wunder
Anne Leigh Parrish
Teresa van Bryce