I'd never really thought about this moment. I'd really never thought that this moment would happen. But here it was. I was standing in it, with my hands clenched in fists by my side, the heat of a summer day beating down on the black fabric of my clothing and making me sweat.
"Lillian?" I turned around, my green eyes blinking rapidly as I faced the angry sun. "Are you okay?" Slowly the green and red dots cleared from my vision and finally, I was able to look at my dad.
I nodded. "I'm doing just peachy." My dad looked down at the ground. "Lillian. Don't start. Not here. Not now."
I shook my head and turned back around to look at my mother's coffin being settled into the hard earth. The echoes of packed dirt against wood rang through my ears and beat my brain into a bloody pulp.
The bend and dip of the worker's shoulders as the pile of ground slowly diminished as it was placed over my mother's decaying body. Slowly, slowly, slowly. With each hit another emotion seemed to slip off of me. I couldn't feel anything. Nothing at all. Just...numbness.
I looked back at my dad. He was still standing there, unmoved, staring at his feet. I glared at him for a long moment before turning on my heel and winding my way through the marble headstones. I slipped through the wrought iron gate and settled down on the curb of the street, tucking my skirt underneath my knees. I watched the people flood out behind me, peeling away in their cars.
I didn't know that my mother had known so many people. Wave after wave tumbled out of the cemetery, tissues crumbled and torn in their fingers, more grief on their faces than there was on mine. I felt bad for a moment. I hadn't cried once since my mother had passed away. But here were all these people, people I didn't even know, balling their eyes out over my mom.
"Lillian?" I stared straight forward, not wanting to talk to my dad. "Lillian?" No...that wasn't my dad's voice. I glanced over my shoulder. A man in a charcoal suit was staring down at me through a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.
"Do I know you?" I questioned, pulling myself off of the concrete to stand in front of him. "No....no, you wouldn't know me. Your mother wouldn't have spoken of me." The man told me. He had a British accent, and he held himself like was very important. He seemed like that kind of person.
"Why not?" I asked, my fingers worrying a spot into the hem of my blouse. "She didn't want you to kn-" "Gideon!"
The man's entire body turned rigid. A woman stalked up next to him, her tall heels clacking a rhythm into the curb. "What are you bothering poor Lillian for? She's been through enough today
"Lillian?" I turned around, my green eyes blinking rapidly as I faced the angry sun. "Are you okay?" Slowly the green and red dots cleared from my vision and finally, I was able to look at my dad.
I nodded. "I'm doing just peachy." My dad looked down at the ground. "Lillian. Don't start. Not here. Not now."
I shook my head and turned back around to look at my mother's coffin being settled into the hard earth. The echoes of packed dirt against wood rang through my ears and beat my brain into a bloody pulp.
The bend and dip of the worker's shoulders as the pile of ground slowly diminished as it was placed over my mother's decaying body. Slowly, slowly, slowly. With each hit another emotion seemed to slip off of me. I couldn't feel anything. Nothing at all. Just...numbness.
I looked back at my dad. He was still standing there, unmoved, staring at his feet. I glared at him for a long moment before turning on my heel and winding my way through the marble headstones. I slipped through the wrought iron gate and settled down on the curb of the street, tucking my skirt underneath my knees. I watched the people flood out behind me, peeling away in their cars.
I didn't know that my mother had known so many people. Wave after wave tumbled out of the cemetery, tissues crumbled and torn in their fingers, more grief on their faces than there was on mine. I felt bad for a moment. I hadn't cried once since my mother had passed away. But here were all these people, people I didn't even know, balling their eyes out over my mom.
"Lillian?" I stared straight forward, not wanting to talk to my dad. "Lillian?" No...that wasn't my dad's voice. I glanced over my shoulder. A man in a charcoal suit was staring down at me through a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.
"Do I know you?" I questioned, pulling myself off of the concrete to stand in front of him. "No....no, you wouldn't know me. Your mother wouldn't have spoken of me." The man told me. He had a British accent, and he held himself like was very important. He seemed like that kind of person.
"Why not?" I asked, my fingers worrying a spot into the hem of my blouse. "She didn't want you to kn-" "Gideon!"
The man's entire body turned rigid. A woman stalked up next to him, her tall heels clacking a rhythm into the curb. "What are you bothering poor Lillian for? She's been through enough today
