by Komal Kant
We were seated on the cemetery grounds in the rippling humid air, enclosed by a grove of large oak trees with hanging branches. The light morning rain had done nothing to quench the heat, and I sweated into the white lawn chair while my black Louboutins sank into the muddy grass.
Despite the mud and heat, at least a hundred people had gathered at the funeral to commemorate a woman who had touched their lives.
“LOiS WOoDS wAS A CHERiSHeD MemBER OF OuR ComMuNITY.”
We all visibly jumped.
From his position behind the podium, the reverend conducting the service, tapped on the microphone in confusion.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH.
I winced. Whoever was in charge of running sound was doing a terrible job. The volume of the speakers was so loud I was pretty sure the reverend’s dreary speech could be heard in outer space.
“LOiS WAS A gOD FEARInG WoMAN, LOYaL TO hER HUSBAND, THE LAtE rOY WooDS, WhO VALUeD TRaDITiON AND FaMILY VALUeS aBoVE aLL eLse.”
I shifted uneasily in my chair, feeling out of place and unnerved by the static microphone. On my left, my mom sat still, barely moving, no expression on her ashen face, her lips pressed firm. Tears glistened in her eyes, but none fell on her face.
To my right, Drew had his eyes half-closed and was muttering something under his breath that sounded something like a chant he’d probably picked up during his time in the wilderness of Kathmandu.
It was obvious the three of us were just trying to get through today. This was the thorn in our lives. The relative we should’ve loved and embraced, but for whatever reason hadn’t.
So, it was safe to say that once the service ended, we let out breaths of relief, as though we’d been forced to share a limited air supply.
“We’re so sorry, Erica.” An elderly woman dressed all in black and wearing a large sun hat that obscured most of her face grasped my mom’s hand immediately after the ceremony. “Lois was so lovely, so sweet. We’ll miss her so much. If only you could’ve been there in her final days.” Accusation dripped through her sympathy and I wanted to give this old bag a piece of my mind.
Like my mom wasn’t already going through enough without this shriveled bat’s negativity.
“Yes, thank you for coming, Helen,” Mom said, nodding her head and ignoring the hostility in her tone. “I know my mother would appreciate you being here. I hope you can make it to the reception. It’s at the Welsecky Estate.”
Mom had pointed Michelle and Ray out when she’d arrived at the funeral. They both appeared older than my parents, maybe closer to sixty, and despite the family’s wealth, they didn’t appear flashy.
“Of course, dear. I’m on my way there now.” She cast curious glances at Drew and me, and I turned up my nose and glanced away.
Sniffing a little, she clutched her chest and hurried away, burbling something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like: rude city folks.
“Miserable bag of wrinkles,” I muttered darkly, which made Drew nod in agreement.
This happened numerous times, over and over again, until Drew and I finally moved over to a large oak tree with widespread branches that shielded us from prying, bored backwoods eyes.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Drew broke the silence, tugging at the tie around his neck that seemed to be choking him. “The way everyone looks at us. The way their smiles of sympathy fall from their faces the second they turn away from us.”
Drew’s observations were startlingly deep and completely accurate. I’d noticed the same thing and couldn’t figure out where the fakeness was coming from.
“They’re lucky I don’t kick them in their wrinkly nether regions.” I watched as he struggled with his tie and in that moment, he seemed younger than his twenty years. Something pulled at my heart and moving closer, I reached out and pushed aside his fumbling fingers. “Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here soon and we’ll never have to see these people ever again.”
“I know.” He blew out a breath as he hung his head, but I caught the glistening of tears in his eyes. “It’s just, I wish I’d known her, that’s all. And now I never will.”
Digesting his concern, I attempted to distract myself with the tie, ignoring the gnawing guilt in my chest. This was the part where I should offer up a kernel of big sisterly wisdom. And yet, nothing came to mind. Grandmother Lois wasn’t coming back and no words from my mouth was going to change that.
So, instead, I wrestled with Drew’s impossible tie in silence until the knot finally loosened. Drew gave me a half-smile as I stepped away. We might fight like cats and dogs, but it never eclipsed the love we had for each other.
As we watched the funeral-goers pass by, most of them in the elderly demographic, my eyes fell on Cole. One of his muscular arms was wrapped around the tiny waist of a very pretty girl with hair so pale blonde it was almost silver. My first impression of him had been on point—his charm and mega-watt smile melted most women.
Delilah strolled by her brother just then and elbowed him sharply in the ribs. When Cole gave her a dirty look, she nodded in our direction, and after searching the crowd, he locked eyes with me.
“Looks like the woman of your dreams is headed this way,” I told Drew with a wink.
His face turned so red, it looked like he’d contracted scarlet fever, but, no, he was just crazy in crush with Delilah.
Now that I had a side-by-side comparison of the siblings as they approached, they didn’t look very alike. Cole was stocky and blond, cutting a clean figure in a well-tailored black suit; Delilah was slender and dark-haired, dressed in black pants and a sleeveless navy top. Even their eyes were completely different shades of blue—although hers were strangely familiar—and yet they both shared the attractive gene.
“I’m so sorry about your grandma,” Cole said as he reached us, placing his hand on my lower back. “Mrs. Woods was a hell of a woman.”
“Uh, thanks,” I said, giving his arm a sharp look. That same arm had just been flirting with another girl. I didn’t want it wrapped around me. “I’m sure she was.”
Crumbling under my gaze, Cole eased off a little bit, nodding his head in the direction of the silver blonde vixen. “I used to be in her brother’s welding class.”
“That’s not the only thing you used to be in,” Delilah remarked dryly, which made Drew and me snort with laughter.
Cole was now as red as Drew, his lips pursed as he eyeballed his sister. His feet shuffled with a restless energy, as though he was trying to restrain himself. Finally, he settled with a half-shrug.
“Well, we can’t all be the Golden Child.” There was bitterness in his voice despite his smile.
Delilah shot him a look so lethal that Cole reacted like she’d smacked him. His face was red paint thrown on an already reddening canvas.
“So, anyway, I noticed your dad isn’t here?” Delilah asked, changing the topic.
Drew and I glanced at each other, and I shot him a warning look. In that single look, I conveyed to him the thoughts running through my mind: Don’t mention how Mom cried out her soul, begging him to come with us.
If we answered with the horrible truth, we’d have to answer with another horrible truth—we had no idea why he wasn’t here.
Our dad, Heshan Fonseka, was more laid back than our mom. When I was seventeen, he’d caught me in a compromising situation with my first real boyfriend, Aaron Tinders, who’d smelled a bit like goat’s cheese and had sideburns rivalling James Dean’s. A few days later, on my eighteenth birthday, Dad gifted me a large box of condoms with the note: Have fun, but I’m begging you, don’t make me a grandfather to Aaron Tinders’ babies.
So, when it had come to our grandmother’s death, his absence was unsettling.
“He was restricted by the one thing all humans are. Work,” Drew lied too easily. “But he wished he could’ve been here.”
More like, he wished we’d never talk about our grandmother ever again.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Delilah said, although there wa
s a layer of disbelief in her tone. All of a sudden, she released a frustrated groan. “Ugh, mayday, mayday, Krystle just caught sight of us.”
Spinning around, I noticed a short, curvy woman with a pretty face glancing at us. She was much too dressed up for a funeral—her lips bright red, her face thick with makeup, and her tight green dress better suited for a night out on the town.
“Oh, great.” Cole let out a groan of his own. “Maybe if we try hard enough, we can camouflage ourselves with the tree.”
Before I could ask who this Krystle character was, my mom seized my elbow, very red in the face. “Let’s get out of here before one more person asks me where your dad is.” She glanced over at me. “Are you following us, Blair?”
We’d taken separate cars because Mom’s had been filled to the brim with flowers that had started arriving at my grandmother’s house over the last few days. They now adorned her fresh grave like a vivid and fragrant frame that seemed too cheerful for this occasion.
Hesitating, I turned towards the grave. “You guys go ahead. I’ll meet you there.”
Mom followed my gaze and then nodded before reaching out to stroke the side of my face and removing some of my running makeup off in the process. “Of course, honey. Take all the time you need.”
Cole gave me a small smile as they walked away. I returned it, liking that smile, despite knowing he probably flashed it to a lot of women in the hopes they’d flash him something else in return.
My shoes sank into the grassy cemetery as I slowly approached the edge of the grave. It was in a good spot, a few yards away from a grove of closely growing oaks and violet grass that heralded a small slope.
The grave diggers were a few feet away, taking a smoke break now that their job was done. They watched me approach, but none of them said anything.
Bowing my head, I tried to push away Drew’s words, but they kept coming back to me.
I wish I’d known her, that’s all. And now I never will.
Now I never will.
Moments passed as I stood there in silent contemplation. The crowd had all but dispersed and it was just my grandma and me—and some people from the church collecting the chairs.
“Maybe one day we’ll find each other in another time and place.” My whisper mingled with the clammy air and faded away, just like my grandmother had.
With a sigh, I began to turn away, but caught sight of a figure leaning against one of the large oaks, a phone pressed up against his ear. I almost dismissed him as one of the grave diggers until I noticed that he had a dark beard and a face I wanted to hi-five.
It was none other than the man who got my blood hotter than this damn weather.
Iris was calling me again.
Every week, she called me like clockwork, wanting to know if I would come back and if I still felt the same way. You know what the damn truth was? I didn’t feel the same way anymore, but admitting that to her was only going to hurt her.
So, I kept all that shit bottled up in the way I knew would end with me committing myself to therapy. More therapy than I’d already had, I mean.
If I didn’t pick up, she’d hang up and speed dial my mom, which would effectively lead to me having to talk about said repressed feelings with my mom. In the end, I would end up talking to Iris, anyway, because Michelle Welsecky didn’t fuck around; she’d pick at me until my bones were dry.
“Hey, Riss,” I answered, stopping under the shade of a large oak, my eyes drifting towards the small hill that led to my parked truck.
It was one of the biggest trucks I could find in the next town over. It purred like a panther and growled like a beast. Yeah, I was that guy. Cars were my thing; take them apart, put them together, that’s what I liked to do.
“Hi.” Iris paused, taking a shaky breath that was uncommon for her. “How have you been?”
“Same old, nothing’s changed. You?” Leaning against the oak, I studied the native ornaments that mingled with the gravestones. This wasn’t one of those zombies-would-rise-here kinda cemeteries. It was tranquil, filled with color, the kinda place Lois Woods deserved to rest in. I didn’t go to things like this, but since I’d returned to town a couple of years ago, Lois had been good to me. The least I could do was drag my sorry ass to pay my final respects.
“Busy with work. Alicia’s been an absolute nightmare,” she said, returning to her usual, harried tone. “She’s trying to take time off. Off! During the end of summer when everyone’s just getting back to work. I don’t know why I keep her around.”
Alicia Connelly was a meek little thing who had been Iris’ assistant for four years and was a big source of stress for her. I always thought Iris was too hard on her, but that was the nature of her job.
“You keep her around because three years ago, she kissed Odorous Owen and stole his key card so she could break into a well-secured office building at four in the morning and delete an entire file on a story that was about to ruin lives,” I reminded her.
Trust me, taking one for the team and locking lips with Odorous Owen was a huge sacrifice that shouldn’t be underappreciated. That man had such a dank name for a reason. Not only was he the coming of the bad odor apocalypse, he was also a sleaze who liked to abuse the powers given to him by a taser and an “access all areas” security card.
“Yes, she did one small thing and now she won’t stop bringing it up,” Iris said in a flippant tone.
Despite myself, I laughed. We both knew what Alicia had done that day was highly illegal and could’ve landed all of us in jail.
I squeezed my eyes, trying to push away the flood of memories that were trying to force their way back. They always resurfaced when Iris called, the reason why it was so damn hard for me to pick up sometimes.
“So, why did you call?” I finally asked, already knowing the answer.
“You know why.” She let that sink in. “I want you to come back.”
There was no way for me to say how I felt without hurting her feelings, so I sighed instead. “I’m not ready to, Riss. Not just yet.”
She released a sigh of her own. “I miss you, I want you to know that. I wish things had happened differently. I know I’m to blame to some degree, but I want that trust to come back.”
Despite the solemnity of her words, I smiled. “I want that too.”
“So, you’re sure everything else is okay?” Her tone softened. “How are your parents?”
“They’re great. They miss you.”
My parents loved Iris like no one else. The first time they’d met, she’d proceeded to drink my dad under the table. He’d loved her since then.
“I miss them, too. That’s the saddest part about losing you; I don’t get to see my favorite parents anymore.”
“You haven’t lost me. And you could come visit.” I said this even though I knew she wouldn’t.
The day Iris Roberts stepped foot in Pine Bluffs would be the day meek little Alicia grew a backbone. Yeah, exactly. Never happening.
We were trapped in a relationship we couldn’t end. Neither of us was ready to move on, so we stayed stuck like this, miles apart, not ready to let go.
“My eleven o’clock just got here, so I gotta go.” There was hesitance in her breath. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“I love you too, Riss.” And I meant every word, even though these days, I knew she didn’t believe me so much.
There were a ton of bricks in my heart as I hung up the phone. Iris and I had a relationship that was different to everyone else’s. What mattered was she hadn’t given up on me. I truly meant more to her than just someone to use.
As I replayed every word that had passed between us, my gaze fell on a familiar figure approaching me with furious steps, dark hair flying behind her in black waves.
Fuck. Not her. Not now.
THERE WAS NO WAY I was letting that asshole get away this time. Not after the encounters that had transpired between us in the past twenty-four hours.
“Hey! You! Douchebag!�
� I cried, sprinting after him as fast as my shoes would allow.
Okay, fine, I wasn’t sprinting, but in that moment, I liked to pretend that my anger had given me a sudden boost of athleticism, despite my 4-inch heels sinking into the muddy grass with each step.
On this occasion, as I often did, I had opted for style over common sense. You’d think I would’ve learned from stumbling around during one of many drunken clubbing nights in Chicago, but it seemed like age wasn’t making me any wiser.
At least not in the shoe department.
The Bearded Jerk, who probably had a name, but one I didn’t care to learn, stowed his phone in the back pocket of his faded denim jeans, his baby blues widening when he caught sight of me.
Once again, he was dressed in his usual attire—jeans and flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up—except he’d added a black tie to the ensemble, giving him a mismatched, endearing appeal. It was the first time I’d seen him at such a distance and my eyes looked him up and down of their own accord.
Those shoulders were broad, the forearms well-defined, and his ass filled out those jeans in a way that made me internally drool. If only he didn’t rile me up the way he did.
“For fuck’s sake, not you again!” He groaned and made a face when he caught sight of me. “Don’t you have someone else to piss off?”
“Tons of people,” I sneered, striding towards him without much balance, “but none I want to piss off as much as you!”
He looked me up and down, similar to the way I’d just looked at him, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, good luck trying to do that in that dress and those shoes.” He turned and headed up the slope ahead of me.
I liked that look about as much as I liked that slope, mainly because it made my skin swelter in the already sweltering heat.
“Hey! You can’t get rid of me that easily!” Clutching my purse and my strangled nerves, I struggled up the slope after him, where the rolling sea of green and purple grass rose taller. “You owe me a blouse and an apology for two liquid incidents!”
“Liquid incidents? Are you kidding me? Did you pee yourself?” he shouted back, throwing his hands up in the air.