Grey Skies

Chapter 3

Note: So sorry for how long it took me to update, don't really have an excuse other than I completely suck! If I don't start updating more frequently feel free to yell at me, with caps letters and everything. Okay enjoy!

Chapter Three

Sarah was here for me, well at least she was suppose to be. Instead, she's out shopping away with my mom. They had asked me to go with them but I declined. Shopping had its perks, and its stress relieving capabilities, but it could also be tedious and tiresome. I planned on doing something else today either way, so in a way, Sarah leaving with my mom wasn't as bad as I first thought. I wanted to do it privately, without bringing it to anyone's attention.

Max was out fishing with my father since nine this morning. They'd be gone for several more hours, and I'd use those to get what I've avoided for a week done. I grab the flowers I had bought yesterday and a bottle of water and head outside. A slight breeze pushes my hair back and tries to alleviate the ninety degree weather but it fell inferior to the sun casted above me. I cross the street and go toward the gates of the cemetery.

The faint sound of a lawn mower comes from deeper inside the cemetery. I pass by an older woman seated on a bench across from a tomb. Tears streak her face and she smiles at me as I pass by. I notice the anniversary card and flowers in her hands and smile back and continue down the trail, not wanting to interrupt her moment even more.

My legs begin to hurt by the time I make it over the hill and to the grave and I realize that I'm really out of shape. I can't say that I'm surprised as I sit down on the grass. I haven't been running or participating in anything that really tested me. That basketball I played with Max had been the one athletic thing I've done in a while and I was breathing heavy five minutes in. My fitness, or lack of, left my thoughts as I stared at the grave in front of me.

Margaret Grey, beloved mother and grandmother. 1931-2013.

I run my fingers over the words and smile slightly. Her grave didn't look much different other than the purple Irises planted in front of her grave. I smile slightly but my lip quivers as I remember her telling me that Purple Irises were her favorite and that when she died, she'd want them surrounding her. I remember her telling me about the different colors and what each represented. How white was for purity, and purple for wisdom. Blue for faith. She'd tell me that whenever I lost faith or courage to buy myself a bouquet of blue Irises. They'd make me feel better, she'd insist. I never tried it. I didn't look at flowers the way that she did. To me they were just petals and pretty colors, that would eventually die out. I never told her that though. I didn't want to ruin her vision of them, though I doubt it would anyway.

I stay a little longer and tell her everything that I've neglected to say. From my surgery to seeing Davis a week ago. From the initial sadness of my injury to the acceptance of my end to soccer. At first I felt uneasy, talking to someone who wasn't even there. As I kept going, I felt like she was here, listening as her fingers played with the flowers. I think of the woman with her anniversary card and flowers, probably feeling the same way I feel now. Missing her husband like I miss my grandmother, but still somehow feeling close to him.

~

By the time I make it back, my mom's car is back in the driveway. I can hear both her and Sarah through the opened kitchen window. I decide to go through the backdoor that led to the kitchen. As soon as I walk in both of them turn from the kitchen table. A pitcher of iced tea sat between the two of them, with shopping bags huddled around their feet.

"Where have you been?" My mom asks as I grab a glass from the cabinet.

I sit down and pour myself a glass. The cool liquid relieves the temperature from outside. Today was the first day of conditioning that Davis mentioned. It revisited my mind periodically, but it was never more than a simple contemplation, where I wondered how the team was now, and how drastically it changed. A part of me wanted to go, but I'd quickly shut down the idea, reminding myself that Davis was no longer apart of my life. That part of my life left as I graduated from high school. I was no longer his pesky problem. He was no longer my annoying soccer coach.