A Weary Heart Wanders

Chapter 1

         

   I stare down at my hands, resting on the edge of his coffin. This is the second funeral I've been to this week. The sleeve of my black button down dress shirt blends in well with the glossy licorice wood of the coffin. My eyes trace down my arm to my best pair of black jeans and land on the bright red combat boots I dawned for the occasion. My mother was angry with me for wearing red boots and tie to a funeral. However, I am a very sentimental person, everything has a meaning, a purpose, everything holds a memory. Red was Adam's favorite color. He picked these boots out at the store. He bought me my red tie too. They both remind me so much of him, wearing them to his funeral just made sense.

   My slender hands reach out to touch the peaceful face of my twin brother. The undertaker parted his hair in the center, he never kept it like that. I flip the front of his longish blonde hair over to one side of his face. My hand lingers on his head, his hair was a little shorter on the sides than the top, like mine. He was so cold, like a wax statue. Suddenly, the room spins and I get on my knees, resting my forehead on the side of the coffin. I'm close enough to take in his scent. It doesn't smell like him, his smell comes to me as a familiar memory. The soap smell that I always associated with my brother or the terrible smell of sweat mixed old spice deodorant that I had smelled often after gym when Adam would tackle me shoving his armpit in my face as I fought for fresh air. I hated it then but now I would give anything to have him tackling me, because then he wouldn't be in a box. No, the scent I smell now is the acrid odor of dry cleaning chemicals and bleach, as well as the old, stale smell of the funeral home lobby.

    I look around the cold room. My family members were all wandering around, offering condolences, telling my parents what they liked best about Adam. It was all bullshit. My family isn't particularly close. I've only seen these people a couple of times in my life, half of them I've never seen at all. They never cared about him or me, or my mother until he died. Then they thought it would be made better by pretending to care. I can't stand this any longer. It's hard enough that Adam's dead body is right in front of me, now I have to listen to these vultures with their fake sympathy close in all around me. I need to get out of here. My mind is racing, it all becomes too much for me just as my self righteous second cousin approaches.

    "Hey Veronica I'm really sorry about Adam." That pushed me over the edge.

     "Save it Terri. You didn't even know him" I growl and push past the red haired woman. Not caring about the scene she will undoubtedly make after I'm gone. With blurred eyes I rush down the hallway and out of the funeral home's large, wooden double doors. I make it halfway down the concrete steps before I collapse, my head in my hands and the summer sun on my back. I grasp a fistful of my blonde bangs, to hold my head up as my silent rush of tears becomes quiet sobs.

      The clack of skinny heels on pavement catches my attention. An old woman in a long black dress is being followed closely by two men who I assume are her sons. They float up the steps on their way to a different funeral. The only one to acknowledge me was the younger of the sons. For a single second he gives me a sad, sympathetic look. I sniff hard, looking up and trying to seem alright but the sympathy of a stranger brings my overwhelming hurt crashing back down on me. My head falls on my lap, my body is once more wracked by sobs. I couldn't hide out front for long before feeling a warm hand around my shoulders. I don't know who it is so I stay still. I look over at the hand through my own arms. On the thumb is a thin silver ring with half a heart on it. Recognizing it, I'm quick to sit up and fall crying into Kitty's arms.

     Kitty is an amazing person. I bury my head into her slightly plump neckline. She is wearing a black skater dress with black high tops and cardigan; she wore black lipstick and nail polish for the funeral. She doesn't look much different than any other day, I use this fact as an excuse to pretend I'm somewhere else for a few moments. Her presence is always so comforting. When I met her over a year ago I was instantly smitten. I sat up, wiped my eyes, then stood up promptly. "Sorry I'm crying again."

     "Oh, it's fine are you kidding I'd be bawling." She reassures me, I really hate crying so I rarely do it. Kitty gives me one last hug before we make our way back to the rest of the service. She holds my hand the entire time. I can't seem to speak even once during the picnic afterwards, I can't eat either. My uncle got a little drunk and told me it's best to move on and let him go. I say nothing , but I desperately wanted to strike him and tell him to fuck off. My mother suggests that Kitty take me home early. From the other end of the table I hear my great aunt agree.

     "I'll make up some excuse Kelsey, just take Roni home." Whispered my mother as I stare sullenly at my plate, my normally voracious appetite long gone. Only myself and a few other's call Kitty by her nickname. Half of the people who called her that are dead now. I let that thought sink in as I watch the purple streak in her brown bobbed hair bounce as she nods her head. She gently led me to her mom's old Beatle. I didn't speak the whole ride, staring aimlessly out of the window and picking at the thick, itchy gauze pad on my arm under my suit jacket.

     Kitty pulls into my steep driveway and with an arm around my waist she walks me up to the front steps. She unlocks the door with the spare key my mother keeps under the flower pot. Not bothering to ask for mine. I forgot them in the house anyway, I was numb, I just couldn't feel, not that I was trying very hard. Who would want to feel right now. I followed her upstairs, sometimes it's as though we don't need to talk to know one another's thoughts. It was easy to tell she was worried about me but I couldn't snap out of this, and she knows that. Following Kitty brings me to the bathroom. With a big sigh I lean my back against the tile counter. I finally feel like no one's looking at me, maybe now I can feel a little calmer.

     "Jump up." She says to me in her sweet voice. I obey. She kneels down and unlaces my dress boots, pulling them off and putting them by the door. She stands and loosens my tie, slipping it over my head. She then unbuttons my dress shirt and folds it up with the other clothing. I lean in and kiss her lazily, barely able to move my lips. The feeling of her taking care of me leaves me raw in the chest. She pulls away, giving me a forced smile walking away, leaving me shivering in my black cami for a few seconds. She comes back with my favorite pair of purple and black plaid pajama pants. "Roni-" She starts before my mom calls out to us from downstairs. The potluck must have ended. "Hold in a sec" calls Kitty before leaving again. I take the opportunity to change my pants. I throw the dirty ones in the hamper and jump back up on the counter before Kitty returns. "Roni it is what it is, you can't just shut the whole world out." SHe says to me gently, I look down, distraught. I can't force myself to speak right now. She runs the washcloth in her hand under warm water and gently removes my makeup. After I rinse my face by myself she takes my hand and helps me under the warm covers of my bed. She kisses my forehead, turning to leave, I grab her hand, shaking my head. She opens the door to let my dogs in and crawls in beside me. I scoot over to give her more room. I don't want her to ever leave. My large fawn colored pit bull Roxy trotted in and jumped on the both of us. Kitty erupted in a fit of giggles as the nine year old dog licked her face. I stayed silent as Roxy came to rest across my shins. Kitty scratched her white chest before laying back and placing her head on my chest. We stayed there in silence, after a long pause my dad came into the room.

     "Kelsey your mother called, time to go."

     "Yeah it's getting pretty late." She sighed, getting up to leave. Before she left she pressed a soft kiss on my lips, making my Dad clear his throat.

     "You know the rules no P.D.A in front of the parents." She followed him out, grabbing her shoes by the door. I look over at the other dog, Brutus, a barrel chested male pitbull with grey fur and a pinkish white on his belly, front paws and one of his ears. He is sitting at the foot of Adam's bed just as he has for the last four nights. Every morning he wakes up on the floor with a sad whine towards the empty bed.

     "Hey beefcake." I coo, my voice a little hoarse from not speaking all day. Dropping my hand, allowing him to lick it as he comes over. Shifting in the twin bed, I offer him the space next to me, patting the bed gently so as to not disturb Roxy. He gladly hops up, snuggling his head into my side. This is how he slept with Adam every night since we were eight years old. I whisper to the dog softly, fresh tears rolling down my face. "He's not coming back buddy."