Loud Silence

Chapter Fourteen

Anger is radiating through me. The pew beneath me will collapse any minute, as this rage surges across my veins. The pastor is speaking, soft weeping swirling throughout the room. I shut my eyes tight, trying to keep my focus away from the casket displayed at the front of the church.

I want to feel sad, I want to mourn, but how can I mourn when the person lying breathless up there was a complete stranger to me?

Yes, I'm angry. Looking around, everyone is dressed in black, some with extravagant black hats, two women wearing black dresses so short, their entire thighs are exposed. There is one older man wearing a dark gray suit, and if it wasn't for the bright lights beaming through the stained-glass window of the church, it would have passed for black.

I refuse to look down at my clothes, but I know. Oh, yes. My trendy outfit—periwinkle buttoned-down blouse, under a faux fur ivory coat, with dainty ruffles lining the cut, paired with white, silk trousers, finished with nude stilettos—have caught many stares since the beginning of the funeral.

Taylor had called last night, asking me if I could assist him at an event. No other details were given except to dress elegantly, as it was a formal event. Violet ceased the moment, creating my look from head to toe, assuming it was a banquet or meeting amongst the medical community.

Even when I was picked up, he had complimented me and said nothing more. Sure he is wearing a navy blue suit, but the subtle difference is of no measure to my humiliating color contrast from the rest of the funeral attendees.

The pastor signals what to be the end of the service, as people start to stand and chatters grow in volume. I plan on staying in my seat, until the entire church is empty, before making my exit. Taylor nudges my elbow from beside me, as I refuse to look at him.

Leaning over, he whispers to me, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It just didn't seem important. I just needed you here."

It didn't seem important? The dead man lying in the casket is no other than his father, in flesh and blood—well very little blood—yet he doesn't believe that was important. He deserves no response to this absurdity.

"Come on," he lends a hand to help me up, "let's get out of here."

I twist my body away from him, and he lays his hand on my thigh, immediately making me jump up and off my seat. Without a word, I turn to leave, passing him as I exit the pew. He follows behind as we emerge onto the aisle, pulling me by the waist and spinning me around to meet him, our faces now within centimeters from each other, bodies against one another.

"Taylor Leonard! What do you think you are doing? We are in a church," I try to contain my volume as best I could, trying to push him away, but his hold is so strong.

"I just can't stand you being mad at me," he responds, as if it can justify his actions.

Finally able to remove his arms away from me, I turn to leave, again hearing his footsteps pursue me.

"Taylor!" A short, chunky woman with silver blonde, permed hair approaches us. I step out of the way to give her a clear path towards the person she intends to speak to, only for her to stop and turn my direction, looking up at me.

"Hi. Interesting choice of color for a funeral, dear. I don't believe we've met," she says to me. I'm sure the color on my face indicates exactly how I feel.

"You haven't," Taylor interrupts before I can cipher an answer. "Aunt Maggie, what do you want?"

This must be his father's sister, as all three of them share the same green eyes, but nothing more. I know because a giant portrait of his father is displayed.