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chapter twelve. ketterdam
"I wish I'd brought flowers," said Wylan.
"Something," he added, gripping the old railing of the browboat, his knuckles nearly turning white. "I've never visited my mothers grave—and when I finally do I haven't got anything to give to her." Wylan shakes his head, black hair coming down in front of his eyes. Aria sighs, reaching forward and pushed the overgrown hair out of his eyes, smiling softly. "What kind of flowers do you bring to a grave?" Wylan asks, shoulders slumping as he braces himself against the railing, practically allowing himself to rip at the seams one and for all. "I've never visited a grave before. At least I don't think I have. Perhaps—"
Aria places a hand on his back. "Wylan, we'll pick up some gardenias at a little shop, okay? You've got to calm down," Aria said softly, going to rub the small of his back.
Wylan let a breath and nodded. "I know. Gardenias sound good. That should do," he said with a somewhat content tone, placing his hands back on the railing.
"Do you remember her?" Jesper asked, leaning up against the railing, back to the sea, head lopped to look at Wylan.
Wylan shook his head. "I remember her curls. They were the most beautiful reddish gold," he says.
Jesper smiled, looking to the coal black locks that had begun to grow into light curls across his forehead. "Same as yours," he said. "Before."
Wylan turned his face away, looking up to the sun. His face flushed pink and he nodded. He cleared his throat and tried to shake away the feeling crawling up throat. "She liked art and music. I think I remember sitting at the piano bench with her," Wylan recalled, messing with the strap of his satchel. "It could've been a nanny. One day, she was sick and going to the country so her lungs could recover, and then she was gone."
Aria pushed herself to face Wylan, barely having enough room on the crowded browboat. "What about the funeral?"
"My father told me she'd been buried at the hospital. That was all. We just stopped talking about her. He said it didn't pay to dwell on the past...I don't know," Wylan's tone faltered as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand, eyes getting lost in the murky colored sea. The outline of Ketterdam drew further and further away as they headed towards the countryside. "I think he really loved her. They fought all the time, sometimes about me, but I remember them laughing a lot together too."
Jesper let out a breathy laugh, closing his eyes as the sun rained down on him. "I find it hard to imagine your father laughing, even smiling. Unless he's rubbing his hands together and cackling over a pile of gold."
