Maybe, probably [h.s]

Chapter 1

Misfortune does not discriminate. 

At least I have the modesty to admit that lack of modesty is one of my failings. Those who spend their time looking for the faults in others usually make no time to correct their own. That never kept me from the harsh, cold ways of misfortune though. 

I believe I was set in my ways. Although my mother, Annalise, always told me that was a good thing, I'm not sure she had ever dealt with high school boys with advice such as that. My mother always told me I was modest. That I had a good head on my shoulders, she would look me in the eye and make sure I understood that the fleshy skin between my hips and on my chest were the least important feature I had to offer. That my knowledge and grace was always going to be enough for the right person. 

To be blunt, my mother is not a religious person, my father had just loved her well and right. He never dared try to dull that light in her eye or that sparkle that surrounded her. He only encouraged her to be the best version of herself, and no matter what version that was, he would love. After he passed, my mother was devastated. Glioblastoma is a type of cancer that starts as a growth of cells in the brain or spinal cord. It grows quickly and can invade and destroy healthy tissue. Glioblastoma forms from cells called astrocytes that support nerve cells.

Glioblastoma can happen at any age. But it tends to occur more often in older adults and more often in men, one of those men being my father. He was fifty-one years old. My mother had lost her best friend, the light that supported her. Despite all of that though, she still went back to the law firm a few weeks later. I'd like to imagine it was how well he loved her that helped her move on. It truly is what he would've wanted, not one of those cheesy lines, she knew that. That's why I didn't judge her for getting remarried only three years later. She needed someone; she had always been used to someone. It only made sense they met at the law firm. Christian, her soon to be new husband never pushed me to enjoy his company. Not then, not now. I apricated and respected that. Sometimes, I would get home late from late college classes and I would see two slices of my favorite pizza on the counter. I always knew they were left by him. That, I also apricated. 

But despite the solid relationship of snacks and boundaries we had, there was more to him. He always loved my mother well. He was never afraid to hold her hand or pick up a coffee with her married last name on it still. He was well aware of my father and the good man he was, he never tried to compare, only followed by example. People at the firm and around town had obviously talked, for the people who truly didn't know my mother, speculations slipped their mouths, but he never allowed it to change the way he loved her in public, as if he was proud of her no matter what, following the unspoken example of my late father. 

So, that's why I'm here. Standing in this silky, pale green dress. I have had a few energy drinks to keep me alert. I have three separate clipboards gathered in my arms, tracking guest and preparing for my speech. I feel as if I am running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I want the day to be as good as possible for my mother and Christian. They will be leaving almost right after the weeding on business, and then I'll be leaving for university in a few months. 

I was the quite type. I wasn't very good at this type of task, but for my mother, I would make it work. 

"Fay, sweetie!" I look over my shoulder to see who is calling my name, but the three energy drinks I have had allow my feet to continue walking until I bump into someone, making my clipboards fall onto the ground. 

"I am so sorry" I say fast and in embarrassment. I look up and meet the eyes of the person I ran into. He has a small smile on his face, he has bright green eyes, bent over helping me pick up the clipboards. 

"Don't sweat it, I promise I'm made of steel" I laugh at this joke. He hands me the clipboards and stands by me a minute longer, looking around at the guest. 

"I'm Harry by the way" He states. 

"I'm Fay, again I am so sorry I ran into you. I'm terrible at looking where I'm going, my mother tells me I have two left feet." His eyes crinkle in laughter. 

"Did I hear someone say, "my mother", well I hope you're telling Harry all good things dear." I turn around to see my mom in her reception attire, smiling at Harry and myself. 

"Of course, mom, yes. Wait, how do you know Harry?" It was odd come to think of it. I'm not sure why Harry was here, at my mother's wedding? I'm also not too sure why he introduced himself, we've been in grade school together since I could remember. I had many memoires of us running into each other and speaking lightly throughout those years. Maybe he doesn't remember me. There truly isn't too much to remember, I wouldn't blame him. 

Harry was the social kind. He had his group of friends, his soccer team, and he got along well with most of the school. He did good academically, but someone of his nature was praised for it. He was just much more social than your average guy. That was okay though, it looked good on him and seemed to work for him. 

"Fay, I was going to tell you I invited Harry so you guys could meet a little bit. Christian and I hired him for when we leave. I know you're so busy preparing for university, he will help around the house, the outside, whatever is needed." I smiled and nodded my head. I had heard one time; Harry was accepted into university. The issue was his mother couldn't afford it. He had worked some odd jobs from what I've heard, but at least now he would have stable pay and could enjoy himself. My mother was the last person to micromanage. I always hated when words such as those went around though, it was no one's business. 

"That sounds lovely, I'm around all the time, so I'll always be there to help." I give him a small smile. His eyes look grateful I didn't make a big deal of it. I wouldn't though.

"I need to go up for my speech though, so I'll see you around, Harry." He nods and watches me walk off. I step up to the small stage in the banquet hall. Clearing my throat and grabbing the microphone. 

"Misfortune does not discriminate..."