THE HAPPIEST GIRL | JENLISA

Chapter 91

Jennie

We drive about thirty minutes outside of the city, with the dark sky breaking into a hazy and bright orange at the horizon as the sun starts to rise. Lisa's left hand rests on the steering wheel, driving, while her right hand is in mine. Sometime after we made it outside of the city, she planted her elbow right next to mine on the centre console, with her forearm brushing against mine. She was timid at first, but eventually she reached for my hand and laced our fingers together.

She pulls off onto a two lane road, and I can tell that she's getting anxious as we get closer to the destination. Her thumb starts brushing faster and deeper, across the skin on the back of my hand and she adjusts her body restlessly in her seat.

About two miles of backroads later, her hand subconsciously squeezes mine as she puts on her right blinker. I glance out the window to find us pulling up to a large black iron gate, the words 'Peace and Hope Cemetery' are spelt out above the archway, that's open for visitors.

I swallow, trying my best not to uncomfortably shift in my seat or display any signs of uneasiness. We both stay silent as she drives towards the back of the cemetery, passing hundreds of headstones. I can tell that this cemetery is old, but it's well kept, with the grass freshly cut and the headstones are in good condition. I'm pretty sure I even saw some headstones dating back to the 1800's that are still dirt and moss free for the most part.

She rolls to a stop at the very back of the cemetery, and that's when I spot it. There, in the front row, I see a familiar face. It's a face that I've never had the pleasure of meeting, but one that I've become fond of. Her face is thin and full of wrinkles, that along with her grey hair giving away her real age yet she looks so youthful in spirit. Her eyes are bright and warm while her smile is kind.

Loretta Jane Manoban is what the stone reads, confirming that this is where Lisa's grandmother is laid to rest. Below her name and the picture of her that's etched into the large and high quality stone is her date of birth and death, along with the words "Beloved wife, mother, and grandmother. Forever in our hearts."

My heart clinches uncomfortably tight in my chest. I've heard so many wonderful stories about this woman and seen so many pictures of her with a young Lisa that it hurts to see that she's actually gone. I've never gotten to meet her since she passed on before I even met Lisa, but deep down, I feel like I know her.

Lisa has always been fond of her grandmother. When she was a kid, she basically raised Lisa while her young parents struggled to keep their family financially stable. Lisa picked up her knack for cooking from her. She always use to tell me some of her best memories were in the kitchen cooking with her grandma.

To the left of Loretta lies Marco Manoban Sr. with a matching headstone, someone I've also never met due to him passing several years before Loretta, but I've seen in plenty of family photos. His face is fuller, filled with wrinkles, and his eyes are bright and squinted from a large smile under his grey moustache and glasses. He looks like an older version of Marco, Lisa's father. I can tell that the Manoban genes are very strong and definitive.

Then, to the right of Loretta is a freshly dug six foot grave. My stomach rolls, knowing that it's for Lisa's father. I observe Lisa as she looks out of the car window, with her jaw twitching uncomfortably below the skin. She takes a deep breath before swinging her gaze to me, searching my face. I give her a reassuring nod and squeeze her hand.

Lisa closes her eyes for a moment, seemingly mentally counting to ten. When she reopens them, she still looks uncertain. She looks down at our intertwined hands, and I give her another reassuring squeeze. Her left hand slowly and blindly reaches for the door handle to get out while her eyes search mine. No words are exchanged, but I know that she's silently pleading for me to get out of the car with her, so I reach my right hand for my door, ready to get out.