Hard Habit to Break

Chapter 4

 "Now, as for the casket..."

The funeral director's voice was a buzzing in the back of her skull, annoying, a gnat she wanted to swat away, as she followed her father into the showroom. Were they serious? Showroom? Like they were strolling in to pick out a brand new Porchse for her mom to hop in. Send her driving off into the afterlife in style.

A flash of Linda, her long dark locks flowing behind her as she sped down the highway, the Monkees blasting loudly from the speakers. That smile, like the sun breaking through the clouds, stretching her face wide. It all flashed before Tori's eyes, creating a physical ache in her chest, her hand attempting to rub it away.

Lacy's fingers slid into hers and she squeezed her little sister's hand tightly, willing any strength she could muster to transfer from herself to her sister. The twenty-four year old had burst into the the house this afternoon with all the dramatic flair she possessed, flinging herself into Tori's arms, sobbing into her shoulder for a full ten minutes before she could calm her down. The two sisters had clung to each other like a dinghy in the middle of the ocean, seeking the kind of comfort and solace only the two of them could provide each other in their shared grief.

"So, what do you girls think?" her dad, Frank, asked, running his fingers along the smooth wood veneer of a mahogany casket, only bringing forth that ridiculous image of a sports car to mind once again. "I want your mom..."

He stumbled on his words, his Adam's apple bobbing harshly against his throat, just another rip across her already ruined heart. Tori knew this was destroying him too. Maybe her parents hadn't been able to make their marriage work but they'd always remained a team, ensuring the girls were surrounded by love, that they always had everything they needed. They'd stayed friends, never stopped caring for one another.

"I want Linda to have the best, even now. She...she deserves that," he managed, a finger running under his eye.

He looked so brokenhearted, the sparkle that usually showed in his eyes completely dimmed now in the tragedy that had befallen their family. There had been more than one time over the years when Tori had wondered if he regretted the divorce. Did her dad wish he could go back and do things differently? Did he wish he would have tried harder to make their marriage work? Did he spend his life wondering if he'd lost the one person that was meant for him?

The way he looked at her mom, even years after their split, it was clear he thought the sun rose and set on her. But they'd never tried again, at least not as far as she knew. Honestly, she didn't even know why they'd split up. Her mom just always said sometimes two people can love each other but it's not enough. That was a sentiment that Tori understood quite well.

Tori attempted a smile that came out as more of a grimace, her face incapable of showing anything less than the grief and complete horror she felt at even having to be here. How was she making these decisions for her mother who hadn't even had the opportunity to reach the age of fifty? It was so unfair that someone who was so full of life only got to live half of it.

And was this really the sum of it all? Standing in this creepily clean room that smelled of death, no matter how they tried to mask it with gag-inducing floral air fresheners and cleaning products, choosing caskets and flowers? Talking about how to celebrate her? How to celebrate what exactly? Her suffering that went on for years? Her fighting with everything she had only to lose the battle in the end? Her being taken long before her time? Were they really expected to celebrate this tremendous loss? The hole it had created in their family?

"That's good, dad," she told him, wanting to give him the smallest bit of solace she could even when she could find none for herself. "I think she'd like that one."