Beyond the Family Ties

Part 34

A week passed by so quickly that Becky couldn't recall much of it. Part of that was because she barely slept at all, and spent most of her time in a daze, blinking back sleep as it burned her eyes and tried to sneak up on her, and part of it was because she was still slightly numb as she tried to sort through memories of that day. Both Laurel and Freen were healing fine, but both were still confined to the hospital, under the close eyes of their doctors, and Becky was still sleeping there to be close to her daughter. She didn't think she'd be able to go home to her apartment and stay their alone. It felt too cold without the sound of her daughter's laughter as she played, of the familiar cluttered mess that Becky felt like she was permanently cleaning up. It hadn't even really felt like home for months; not without Freen.

At the end of the week though, she took a personal break from the hospital, catching a ride home off Angel , who'd dropped in that morning, and took a long, hot shower. The warmth was comforting, and she felt more refreshed using her own bathroom than the plain, sterile hospital ones that always felt cold. After she'd showered and dried her hair, she dressed in a fitted black suit and donned a black overcoat. Barefaced and dressed in her drab clothes, she went downstairs and caught a cab out to the East Village.

The address had been given to her by Querl, along with the date and time, and as the yellow cab pulled up outside the plain shop front, she took in the cluster of black-clothed people enveloped in a thin haze of smoke as they puffed at cigarettes. Her brother's funeral had been organised by Lillian, and Becky was surprised that it wasn't taking place in a church but saw the wisdom in it as she caught sight of a few well-known criminals that would be picked up on sight if they were seen out in a popular area. That many criminals together would only draw the wrong kind of attention - wrong to them - and so it was being held in the airy basement of one of Sunny's favourite hangouts. Becky knew it, of course. She'd come here and clean his friends out after a night of poker and drinks, while he dealt with some business and sat with two or three girls who fawned over him.

She felt uncomfortable stepping inside, making her way to the staircase in the back that led downstairs, more people in black standing inside the store, perching on dusty boxes of false wares, sitting on the grimy counter as they flicked cigarette ash into a coffee cup that had been there for God knew how long. No one stopped her, but they all knew her. She made her way downstairs without interruption and stepped out into the large room. Wooden floors and velvet cushioned chairs made the room more comfortable than a basement should be, and the overwhelmingly large amount of flowers perfumed the air, chasing away the lingering odour of spilt whiskey and tobacco smoke.

It was already nearly full, the ceremony ready to get underway, and she drew the attention of more than a few guests. They all knew what had become of her, tossed out of home with a newborn, disgraced and disowned - they didn't know her brother had tried to coax her back home, or that she worked for the government - and the brazen stares were full of interest. She had known almost all of them at one point or another, but it had been years since she'd been seen in a public setting with her family, and they were all curious as they took in her appearance, taking in the woman that she'd become.

She saw her mother standing at the very front, right in front of the casket, which lay shut on the raised platform at the far end of the room. A priest in his robes was standing off to one side, tugging at his collar as he nervously glanced around the room, at the number of thuggish looking men with shaved heads, the elegantly dressed older guests who were even more dangerous with their snake-like eyes and commanding air. Becky ignored them all as she made towards her mother, taking in the dejected slope of her shoulders, almost hunched over as her grief weighed her down. Becky couldn't help but pity her.

"Mom?" Becky softly said as she came to a stop beside her. She waited a few moments, but Lillian didn't so much as stir. "Mom."

As if only just hearing her, Lillian shook herself out of her daze and glanced to her left, a glassy look in her eyes that let Becky know that she wasn't quite there, even if she'd responded to her calling. Guilt slammed into Becky and she felt a lump form in her throat as she took in the haunted look about her mother's face. There was a sallow air about her face, cheeks gaunt and green eyes sunken, and makeup couldn't hide the bruise coloured circles beneath Lillian's eyes. Her lips were bitten and her eyes were bloodshot.