They gave us money, fast food gift cards, hugs, and the occasional kiss on the cheek, but nobody had the right words to say.
The funeral home wasn't all that small, but so many people were packed into it that it made it feel small. It made the room feel stuffy, which didn't help my nausea. The suit didn't help, either.
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The siblings' outfits.
I stood over by the bathroom so I could make a quick exit if I needed to. Bennet was standing close to me, and Jaison was standing by a window.
Bennet leaned towards me. "Do you know where the twins are?" he whispered.
My brow furrowed. I shook my head. "I don't know."
I scanned the crowd. I saw a few children, but they were all cousins or close family friends. I couldn't see the twins.
"Do you see them?" I asked.
Bennet ran his eyes over the crowd. Then he let out a relieved breath. "Yeah. Conor's sitting by grandma."
"What about Sadie?" I said.
Benet scanned the crowd again, then after a few seconds his face fell. He went into the crowd and I closely followed.
I followed him to the table at the front of the room where Mom and Dad's urns were being displayed in front of flowers.
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Mom and Dad's Urns and Flowers.
In front of it was Sadie.
I knelt next to her and put an arm around her small shoulders.
"Hey, lovey," I said softly, kissing her on the cheek.
She pointed to the urns. "What are those?" she asked.
I opened my mouth, but I didn't quite know what to say.
I looked at Bennet with a panicked expression on my face. Bennet caught Jaison's eye and he rushed over.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Sadie's asking about the urns."
Jaison bit his lip. He went and got Conor (who was wearing a black polo shirt) then he sat them both on his lap on a chair close to the urns.
"When a person dies, that means that their body broke, and since we can't fix it, they don't need their bodies anymore," he said. "Since they don't need them, we turned their bodies into ashes. The ashes are in those vases called urns."
"Oh," Sadie whispered, dragging out the word.
Conor didn't say anything for a second, then he grabbed Jaison's arm and buried his face in his chest.
Jaison handed Sadie to Bennet, then hugged Conor tight.
"I know it's sad," he said.
"I want Mommy," Conor mumbled, his voice muffled in Jaison's chest.
Jaison gulped, and tears came to Bennet's eyes.
"I know, love," he whispered. "I want her, too."
I felt my throat get tight with emotion, then tears started running down my face. I wiped them off my cheek with my thumb.
Sadie reached for me from Bennet's arms. I picked her up and hugged her, nestling my face in her soft golden hair.
"I love you, baby," I whispered, so only she could hear.
She didn't respond and gripped my suit coat in her fists.
I rocked her in my arms and cuddled her. A while later she asked, "Mommy and Daddy coming home?"
"I'm sorry, love," I whispered. "Mommy and Daddy are gone. They can't come home."
Sadie gipped my suit coat tighter and started crying silent tears. I couldn't help but start crying, too.
My 4-year-old sister and I had never cried about the same thing before. That was saying something.
I glanced up. Conor was still clutching Jaison, and Bennet was staring at the urns and crying.
Suddenly my throat got tight again, and this time not from tears. I thrust Sadie into Bennet's arms, ran to the back, pushed open the bathroom door and threw up in the sink.
Why did I have to be the one to inherit Mom's emotion-influenced stomach?
