Perhaps because it seems so appropriate, I don't notice the rain. It falls in sheets, a blanket of silvery thread rushing to the hard almost winter ground. Still, I stand without moving at the side of the coffin.
I am on Rosie's right. I am always on Rosie's right, and i often wonder if it was that way evenin our mother's womb, before we were pushing screaming into the world one right after the other. My brother, Emmett, sits near Alec, our driver, and Aunt Amy, for sit is all Emmett can do without the use of his legs. It was only with little effort that Emmett and his chair were carried to the graveyard on the hill so that he could see our father laid to rest.
Aunt Amy leans in to speak to us over the drumming rain. " Children, we must be going."
The reverend has long since left. I cannot say how long we have been standing at the mound of dirt where my father's body lay, for I have been under the shelter of Harvey's umbrella, a quiet world of protection providing the smallest of buffers between me and the truth.
Rosie motions for us to leave. " Come Elsie, Emmett. We'llreturn when the un is shinning to lay fresh flowers for Father's grave." I was born first, though only by minutes, but it has always been clear that Rosie is in charge.
Aunt Amy nods to Alec. He gathers Emmett into his arms, turning to begin the walk back to the house. Emmett's gaze meets mine over Alec's shoulder. Emmett is only ten, though far wiser than most boys his age. I see the loss of Father int he dark circle's under my brother's eyes. A stab of pain finds it's way through my numbness, settling somewhere over my heart. Rosie may be incharge by I am the one who has always felt responsible for Emmett.
My feet will not move, will not take me away from my father, cold and dead in the ground. Rosie looks back. Her eyes find mine through the rain.
"i'll be along in a moment." I have to shout to be heard, and she nods slowly, turning and continuing along the path toward Birchwood Manor.
Harvey takes my gloved hand in his, and I feel a wave of relief as his strong fingers close over mine. He moves closer to be heard over the rain.
"I'll stay with you as long as you want, Elsie."
I can only nod, watching the raun leak tears down father's gravestone as I read the words etched into the granite.
CHARLIE EDMUND MILTHORPE
BELOVED FATHER
JUNE 23, 1846- OVEMBER 1, 1890
There are no flowers. Despite my father's wealth, it is difficult to find flowers so near to winter in our town in northern New York, and none us have had the energy or will to send for them in time for the modest service. I am ashamed, suddenly, at this lack of foreing thought, and I glance around the family cemetery , looking for something, anything, that I might leave.
But there is nothing. Only a few small stones lying int he rain that pools on the dirt and grass. I bend down, searching for a few of the dirt covered stones, holding my palm open to the rain until the rocks are washed clean.
I am not surprised that Harvey knows what I mean to do, though I don't say it out loud. We have shared a lifetime of friendship and, recently, something much, much more. He moves forward with the umbrella, offering me shelter as i steo toward the grave and open my hand, dropping the rocks along the base of Father's headstone.
My sleeve pull with the motion, revealing a silver of the strange mark, the peculiar, jagged circle that bloomed on my wrist in the hour after father's death. I steal a glance at Harvey to see if he noticed.He hasn't, and I pull my arm further inside my sleeve, lining the rock up in a careful row. I push the mark form my mind. There is no room there for both grief and worry. And grief will not wait.
I stand back looking at the stones. They are not pretty or bright as the flowers I will bring in the spring, but they are all I have to give. I reach for Harvey's arm and turn to leave, relying on him to guide me home.
A/N HI GUYS SO UMM... IA M KIND OFF NERVES SO YEAH SORRY IF I AMKE A MISTAKE AND PLZ IF YOU LIKE THE STORY REMEMBER TO VOTE OR COMMENT PLZ. I LOVE YOU GUYS I RECOMMEND YOU GUYS TO READ LOVE LIKE A DELINQUENT. :*
