by Jae Hood
I missed Lucy. God, how I missed her.
Only a handful of days had passed since the fire at the hospital, the fire that took out an entire wing of Birchwood Medical Center. Ironically enough, it was the Montgomery wing that had burned. Lucy and I had never been apart for more than a day or two our entire lives, and only then because she was off somewhere drunk or high. I always found her, no matter what, but there would be no more finding Lucy. You couldn’t find what didn’t want to be found.
The line of visitors moved along at a snail’s pace. After dropping condolences to those situated around Lucy’s casket, the visitors halted near the front pew, speaking quietly to Christine. The ladies blew air kisses near each of her cheeks, careful not to smudge her pristine makeup. They then moved to where I sat, shooting me tight smiles and light condolences before walking away. Their roaming eyes landed where Tanner sat beside me, powdery cheeks burning as he caught them gawking.
Tanner cocked his head to the side, lips only a breath away from my ear. “Is there something on my face?”
I nudged him for his poor attempt at a joke. He smiled for a second, earning a few scowls from onlookers.
Josie walked in sometime during the parade of well-wishers and pushed her way through the crowd. A tight, black dress clung to her body, hugging what little curves she had everywhere besides her large breasts. She plopped down beside me with a huff, forcing me to shift closer to Christine on the pew. The air around her smelled of cheap booze mixed with the scent of her floral perfume, and it burned my nostrils. I wrinkled my nose as she reached inside her cleavage, adjusting herself without a hint of remorse for her indecency. She poked and prodded at her boobs, paying more attention to them than anything else.
“Where’s Bryce?” I whispered.
“Drunk as a skunk, passed out in my truck.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Josie, it’s over ninety degrees outside. You can’t leave Bryce passed out in your truck. He’ll die.”
Josie huffed, her rosy lips dropping into a frown. “Jesus, Rue. For Christ’s sake. I’m not a total sadist. I cracked a window.”
“How can you be so casual?” I asked. “You could at least act like you have a little semblance of grief.”
Josie turned up her nose. “Lucy would want me to be happy. Getting drunk and having sex makes me happy.”
Tanner snickered, covering it with a cough. “I’ll go check on Bryce. Give Josie a break. She’s not one to act like anything other than herself.”
With the nod of my head he stood, tugging at the lapels of his expensive black suit. Even in the midst of turmoil and sorrow, he remained humble and strong, sauntering past the nosy onlookers with a brief nod of his head.
Graham, Melissa, and Shelby approached the front of the sanctuary. They shook hands with my uncles, who nodded and smiled at Graham only for appearance’s sake, well aware of the hundreds of onlookers homed in on them from the surrounding pews, including the good detective in the back row.
The three parted ways with my uncles after their brief greetings. They spoke a kind word to Christine, who blatantly ignored them, and then to my grandmother. Nana murmured a polite greeting into her handkerchief. They disappeared after that, melting into the thick crowd of folks on the opposite side of the building, sliding into a pew near the back.
The hour approached to begin the dreaded service. A nervous knot formed in the pit of my stomach as people shuffled to their seats, already dabbing worn tissues at the corners of their watery eyes. A child had died, and there was no greater sorrow than the death of a child, no greater loss than the life of someone who had yet to really live. There were no possibilities left and no chance of a future.
If they only knew the truth.
Tanner returned, placing something soft and light in my lap. I couldn’t help the small smile curled on the edges of my lips or the fluttering flight of recognition tickling inside my chest. In my lap sat a bouquet of lilies. Pure white, flushed yellow at the base, and painfully beautiful, they emitted a heavenly fragrance. The startling green stems were held together by a long, silky white bow.
“You remembered.”
“Of course I remembered,” he said. “How could I forget the first time I saw the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with?”
I toyed with the ribbon, curling it around my finger. “Everything has come full circle now, hasn’t it?”
Tanner turned his head, looking behind us, his eyes flickering toward Amos. “Almost.”
Tanner draped his right arm around my shoulders, resting it on the back of the pew. I felt the cold, hard stares of my aunts and uncles, including Amos, from directly behind us. I imagined Amos wished he could reach forward and snap both our necks at that moment, but he couldn’t. There were too many witnesses. It was too public. Also, Detective Holloway sat somewhere nearby.
The service started, and we all stood. I struggled to find Chance sitting somewhere nearby, but he was absent. I hadn’t seen him in days, and I worried about how he was handling being away from his family. I wondered if he struggled with the absence of those he loved, as I had with Lucy, but I knew he was not alone. Keeping his family at arm’s length was a price he’d chosen to pay for Lucy’s well-being.
Mia’s voice trilled, cutting through the sobs and stifling scent of flower arrangements. Her voice carried over the audience and flowed through the dismal surroundings. Mia was a broken angel, her voice wavering and cracking at times, full of the emotion and distress of losing a friend. I’d been shocked when she’d offered to sing during the funeral.
“Lucy picked this song out,” I whispered to Tanner.
“Huh?”
“When you packed up my stuff at my house, I found Lucy’s iPod in the bottom of one of the boxes. She had a playlist for every event in her life, including her funeral. This song is from her funeral playlist.”
“That’s weird,” Tanner said, shifting on the pew.
I couldn’t contain my breathy, low laugh. “That’s Lucy. Always one for dramatics.”
Mia sang of a childhood lost, of a first love never known. Christine’s sobs picked up pace, and I gloated at the absurdity of the song and situation in general. Lucy really knew how to pack a punch when needed.
Christine’s hand fumbled for mine and I allowed it. Who knew when I’d ever see her again? For once, her emotions seemed sincere. Her curls hung limply around her splotched face. Her hazel eyes were rimmed with redness and shining with tears that spilled over her cheeks. Her sorrow became my pleasure.
Josie isn’t the sadist after all. That role belongs to me.
Christine wouldn’t be around for long, a fact that brought me mutual joy and pain. Graham told me the hospital’s social worker had reported Christine to the state for child abandonment and neglect. Lucy’s death would seal the deal, so to speak, on Christine’s fate. She’d go to prison, maybe not for long, but long enough. Any amount of time behind bars was better than a lifetime of no punishment at all.
I was certain she’d also lose her nursing license sometime in the near future. She’d have to start over somewhere fresh, just as I would. Would she have her boyfriend waiting for her? I doubted it. He didn’t accompany her to her own daughter’s funeral. Why would he wait for her to be released from prison?
Mia’s song died away on a bitter note, as did the life my sister once lived. Any inkling of remorse I held, the tears that sprang forward, the heartache that clenched in my chest, was for the others who perished in that fire. Graham assured me over and over that they were just casualties of war, patients who had no chance at a real life, but that didn’t ease the stinging guilt that infiltrated my mind during the long nights.
Our pastor presented the eulogy, and I pressed a tissue to my eyes. The spoken words, the prayers, and the humility surrounding me faded into nothing. I became lost in my own thoughts until I noticed movement from the corner of my eye.
A young woman slunk into the room, attempting and failing to fad
e into the far wall as she ducked into an empty space near the last pew. The girl was beautiful from what I could tell. Pale skin was hidden beneath the black lacy veil covering her face. The only color peeking out was the red on her lips. Once she saw me, those blood-red lips curled into a small smile. Her dress was modest with black lace edging and a sexy, yet almost childlike appearance on her small frame. Lacy black gloves traveled up her arms, dancing across her pallid skin and ending above her elbows. I frowned at the audacity of the girl who was obviously begging for attention but finding none. No one else looked her way.
Turning back to the front of the room, I caught the tail-end of the eulogy. Mia sang one last song, the words whispered and raspy from her throat. I focused my attention on the closed casket, the one thing Christine and I had agreed on in regard to the funeral service.
For all she knows, the body is too damaged from the fire to view.
The service ended, and we all stood, my hand firmly clasped in Tanner’s. Uncles and male cousins acted as pallbearers, toting the casket through the open door. Sunlight spilled into the room, the sound of happy birds and a nearby lawnmower filling the somber area. The doors closed behind Brodie, and after one last prayer, the funeral came to an end.
I rode with the Montgomerys to the grave site. Graham’s Cadillac tore through the dirt roads, coating the glossy dark paint in a fine sheen of dust. I spotted my sister’s casket in the distance, past the rolling green hills and gray headstones, hovering over the fresh, open grave below a green canopy. White, wooden folding chairs were lined in front of the casket, filled with family.
I joined them, my hands full of the Gerbera daisies Graham had stopped and allowed me to purchase at the local flower shop. I allowed Christine to, once more, clasp my hand in hers. The minister gave a short speech, consoling the friends and family of little Lucy Monroe, and I finally allowed myself to break down. I felt it all—the pain, the sorrow, the agonizing terror of a life without my sister, who was no longer by my side.
Concerned murmurings surrounded me. Aunt Maggie’s arms embraced me, submitting herself long enough to comfort me. She shoved her hatred for the Montgomerys aside to remember I was still the same Rue she had watched grow up over the years.
There was one last long, sorrowful prayer from the minister before a machine slowly dropped my sister’s casket into the ground. People stood, taking turns dropping a single white rose into the open grave. Lucy’s friends and classmates sobbed and took turns hugging my limp body. Friends and family offered their condolences in soft-spoken words, but I heard nothing. All I saw was Josie, hiding her tears, and Brodie, cussing God, and Olivia, apologizing to a girl who could no longer hear her regrets.
This isn’t real. Why are you so heartbroken? Oh, right. They’re playing the part. We must keep playing the part.
People departed from the grave, chatting among themselves, some even breaking into quiet laughter in a vain attempt to cut through the seriousness of the situation. I remained seated, staring at my sister’s grave until I was physically shaken by Tanner and forced from the cemetery. I stumbled across the soft grass, weaving through rows of headstones from the eighteen hundreds as we drifted to Graham’s Cadillac.
“I’m not ready to leave yet,” I said. “Can I—I know this sounds strange, but can I have a few minutes alone to say goodbye?”
Tanner, Graham, Melissa, and Shelby exchanged relieved smiles, smiles I didn’t quite understand. Tanner raked his hand through his hair, gazing at people who made their way through the headstones to the parking lot.
“You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that,” Tanner said. “We were beginning to worry that you … that you would never … realize …”
Confused, I tilted my head to the side, my muddled mind trying to dissect the words he didn’t say.
Tanner sighed and dropped his head, palming his forehead. “As relieved as I am, I don’t feel comfortable just leaving you alone. What if Amos …”
“I’ll just be over there.” I nodded in the direction of Lucy’s grave. “It’ll only take a few minutes and I’ll never be out of earshot, okay?”
Tanner nodded, pressed a light kiss to my forehead, and leaned against the car as the others slid inside.
The sun sank in the distance, coating the earth in pinks and purples, two of Lucy’s favorite colors. A concrete bench sat a few paces from my father and sister’s graves. I wandered over to it, relieved to sit underneath the limbs and leaves of the weeping willow which draped overhead like a dismal cloud. I sat on the worn surface of the bench my grandmother had purchased shortly after my father’s death.
Time slipped by. A birdsong faded away and was replaced with the song of crickets and the croaking of frogs. The sun sank lower on the horizon and still I sat, waiting with Lucy’s flowers.
Then she came, quiet as a ghost, drifting over the softly rolling hills. She was nothing but a drifting black figure, a silhouette against the fading purple sky painted behind her. The black veil encased her face in darkness, and the bloody red lips twisted into a smile. She fingered the key hanging from the necklace draped around her neck.
Instead of approaching me, she paused by the fresh grave, peering down at it. The red Mississippi clay lay in a soft mound over the grave.
“You have a lot a nerve, you know?” I grumbled, walking across the dewy grass. “Showing up at you own damn funeral.”
Lucy’s grin spread across her face, wicked and wide beneath the shadows of her veil. “Oh yeah? You saw me in the funeral home, huh? I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. It was great, right? Are those flowers for me?”
“Oh yeah. Your funeral was a blast. The most epic one I’ve ever attended.” I tossed the daisies on the fresh grave and scowled.
My sister snorted and turned back to the grave, the smile slipping from her face. “Who do you think is in the grave, Rue?”
“Davis, of course. I hate that we had to bury him next to Daddy, but we had to do something with his body. Burying him in your plot was an ingenious idea. Daddy would be pissed, but Davis? Ha! He was furious when Graham told him where he planned on dumping his dead body.”
A mischievous grin curled on her face. “Graham told Davis he planned on burying him next to Jeb Monroe?”
“Yup. When he wouldn’t give him the info he needed on Tanner’s father’s murder, Graham told him he was gonna kill him and bury him in the Monroe family plot. I wasn’t there of course, but I heard that Davis shit his pants. Literally.”
Lucy laughed, a whimsical sound that tugged at my chest. I’d miss that sound. “Who told you he shit his pants?”
I searched my woolly mind, but couldn’t find the answer to her question.
“You know, I can’t remember. In fact, I don’t remember who told me anything about you. Who snuck you out of the hospital? Where have you been staying?”
“Rue,” she whispered. “Don’t you remember anything?”
I groaned and looked to the heavens. “Not you too.”
“What?”
“Everyone is acting so crazy.” I frowned. “When are you leaving?”
“Soon. As soon as you leave this cemetery.”
“Where are you going?”
Lucy snickered, an impish twinkle in her eyes. “Hopefully up, but that’s still kinda iffy at this point.”
Up? Oh, she means north. Silly girl.
“What will you do up north?” I asked.
Down the hill below, Chance was propped up against the side of his truck, near Graham’s vehicle, conversing with Tanner as they peered up the hill at us.
“What will I do?” she repeated in a breathy whisper. “Anything, everything, nothing. Who knows? It doesn’t really matter. As long as I’m with him, everything will work out fine.”
Sadness bubbled in my chest. “I’ll miss you.”
“Oh, Sissy. You’ll see me again soon,” she whispered. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Wh—when?”
; “When the storm comes.”
I laughed, a dry, bitter sound, as I thought of the past few months, the things we’d all weathered together since meeting the Montgomerys. “You mean the storm hasn’t already come and gone?”
“Not yet, but it’s coming soon. And I’ll be here when it arrives.”
“How will I know when it arrives?”
“You’ll know. You’ll know when it blows in. And when it comes, you’ll make a decision. A decision to kill. You’re the one who has to do it, Rue. You have to kill Amos.”
Chapter 24
Days later, I woke to a cold bed, Tanner nowhere around. After slipping my feet into my fuzzy slippers, I made my way down the hallway to the stairs, pausing near the landing at the sound of my name being spoken.
“I know everything won’t always be perfect. Rue refuses to talk about Lucy being gone, even though I know it’s bothering her. Not only that, we’ve already had an argument over her going back to classes next week.”
“School is one thing I agree with you on,” Melissa said. “I’m not comfortable with her going back to Mayhaw High. Not with her uncles and Buck Bridges lurking around. What if they hurt her? I’d never be able to live with myself. She should transfer to Birchwood and finish high school here.”
Tanner sighed. “Rue’s stubborn. She wants to graduate with her class. I told her I was putting my foot down on the subject, but she just won’t listen to me. She can’t get it through her thick skull how dangerous it is for her to be in Mayhaw, especially now that our relationship is out in the open.”
“You can’t blame her, Tanner,” Shelby said. “Mayhaw is where she’s from; it’s where her family lives, not just the ones against her, but the ones standing beside her.”
“No one from her family is standing beside her,” Tanner argued.
The quiet sound of a newspaper being folded may as well have been a grenade going off. I backed up the stairway until I stood in the upstairs hall.