𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

TWENTY-EIGHT: funeral.

     

     ELISE MUNSON is dead. That's why Uncle Wayne had called, informed his nephew that Elise Munson, Wayne's sister-in-law and Eddie's mother, had passed away. Eddie went silent immediately, didn't react or do anything. Just stood there. Nearly catatonic, James got worried the moment he saw him go completely still, going up the stairs and to his side. "Hey, everything okay?" He asks.

Eddie blinked and looked at him. "Yeah," he mouths because he can't speak, his mouth is dry. He clears his throat, "oh, when did it happen?" He had asked his uncle who went into detail about his mother overdosing over this past weekend, about how they'd just found her body because they were evicting her and Eddie's father. He went quiet again.

"Oh, okay... um, when... when is the funeral?" He'd asked and James' eyes went wide, looking at him with worry. He just glanced away and hummed along to what his uncle said. "I'll be home soon... just gonna tell James and be on my way out." He says as his eyes finally meet with his worried boyfriend's.

"Okay, kid, don't rush... talk to him, tell him how you feel. I'm glad you have someone like him with you, in this difficult time." He said and Eddie hums, "see you at home." He simply says before hanging up. "Funeral?" James asked and Eddie looks at him. "My mom, uh, died." And that was it, Eddie went home saying he had to be there for his uncle and James just hugged him and kissed him goodnight by the door, saying to call him if he needs anything.

Eddie didn't. He sat in the vehicle on the side of the road just a mile or so from the trailer park, crying into his hands and blasting loud music at the same time because that way no one would hear him crying, being a wuss. Memories flooded back as soon as his uncle said those words, "your mother, Elise, she, uh, passed away, son," it was torture, remembering all the times he's heard his mother cry and he was the one there, picking up the pieces of her shattered broken heart and wiping her tears from whatever shit his dad did. And now she's just... gone.

Granted, she wasn't mother of the year, neither was his father, they ditched him with his uncle when Eddie became older and not cute like little babies and toddlers, because that's really the only time parents love their kids. Tiny, doesn't communicate, is cute and full of love. Not annoying miscreant kids like Eddie. But Eddie still loved them. His mom was so nurturing whenever she tried to be, and his dad taught him, (he also taught him to hotwire a car, but at least he was a teacher to Eddie like most fathers), those parts of his parents erased every other bad shit they did.

The hits from his dad, the slurred speech that used to degrade Eddie whenever his mom was too jacked up on heroin, cocaine, whatever it was, Eddie loved them despite those flaws. And now here he was, sitting at the funeral with his uncle to his side, the only real family he had. Other than James and Jane.

Even Jim felt like family, they were there, just a row behind him, his uncle and grandparents. When the priest called up Eddie to say a few words, he hesitated and his uncle pats him. "Go on, son." He tells him and Eddie went up to the front, glancing at the casket before looking up at the staring eyes on him. It makes his skin crawl. He knows only maybe 40% of these people, the other 60% is probably people that were friends or classmates of Elise.

He glanced around at them then began, "my mom... uh, was my best friend most of my childhood, I didn't get along with most kids until, like, middle school I think. Um, but, uh, she was always there for me, the way a mother should be, right?" He said and chuckled but didn't see humour in anyone else's sad eyes or faces. He pursed his lips and fidgeted with his hands, glancing to his uncle, then his eyes met James' and the younger sent a small smile. It brings some comfort to Eddie.

He's not alone. He's never been alone, he's had Wayne since he was left at his place, and now he also has James by his side. He cleared his throat. "I don't know, but, um, there's this one time I remember the time I got home with the results from a test I did, and... I gave her my test, and she kind of just made me french toast. It made me feel very special, very... loved. I'll always remember that. And cherish it forever with me... I'm gonna miss her." He said quietly then glanced over at his uncle who nodded and smiled faintly at the boy.