Christinellia

Chapter 3 - An Unwelcoming Return

Chapter 3 – An Unwelcoming Return

(Cornelia)

After a sweet sensual night with James, I asked him if he would be willing to come with me to my father’s funeral.  Sadly, this was what he said.  “Sorry, I can’t.  I still have some work to do,” he said unconvincingly with a cup of coffee.  “You should go.  Maybe asked El.  I bet you two would have so much fun.  I hope you enjoy your trip.”

Having fun at a funeral is quite ironic.  But the trip would have been easier if I was with someone.  James doesn’t want to come.  Elizabeth couldn’t.  I was driving alone for hours planning the perfect conversation or managing the worst possible outcomes.  Will we ever reconcile and reclaim that term family once in for all?  I don’t feel confident.  I’m totally scared with that small possibility of happening.  I guess it would end up as a battle of the one with the least pride.  But my presence today does say something, right?  I want reconciliation, even if it’s too late for my beloved father.

The long hours of driving finally paid off.  In a remote town in Ohio lies a small municipality called Rye.  It’s a quiet peaceful place where everyone knows everybody.  It has its own sign that says, ‘Welcome to Rye Ohio: Take a piece of peace’ in a pale green script writing bordered by spiderwort’s at the bottom-right.  The cool breezy wind reminds me of some harsh winters but summers are relatively warm.  As I watch at the vast plains, it reminds me of my life as a kid; biking with friends, swimming on a river, or climbing trees in a warm spring day.  I did enjoy all of it.  And as I continued to reminisce, a guy named Gary Bennett entered my mind.  For no apparent reason, he popped into my head.

I passed by familiar sites.  I saw my old friends’ houses almost similar to how I remember it.  I pass by my school with corroded paint but with a new silver gate.  The church which I mostly attend to as a child stood strongly at the middle of the town.  Good memories continued to flood my brain and at that second, I was happy being home.  I will still not trade my life now, but this is a wonderful place to visit once in a while.

I arrived at my old home.  It was a traditional American home, antique looking with a porch in front and an attic at the top, a mat in front of the door that says ‘welcome’ and red screen door at the front of the house.  It has not change, maybe with some little renovations but that’s it.  I parked in front of my parents’ house.  From my view, I could see people wearing black while mingling with other guests.  I wore grey, fashionably fitting for a funeral with a mourning hat.  I wore shades to cover the eye bags that developed last night.  Just as I came out my rented car, Catherine burst out of the door and welcomed me.  She wore a full black dress which she made herself.  It was a work of art. 

“I’m really happy you came,” she greeted with sorrow in her voice.  Her eyes are more darkened than mine.  I guess she has been my dad’s favorite after I left.

“I’m glad too,” I responded.  “What should I do now?”

“Let’s go inside,” Catherine said.  “Mom would be so psyched to see you after all these years.”

I was not sure how true it was.  But she pulled me from the yard towards the door as we both entered the comfort of home.  “You wait here.  I’ll call mom!”

Everyone looked at me.  I took my shades and my hat off to show my respect.  As I watch them eye me down, it felt weird.  They continued glaring at me.  Later on, they started whispering at the person beside them, probably trying to confirm my identity.  It was a cute little girl –eight or nine– who made my attendance more obvious.

“Isn’t that Cornelia Casingham?” she cried.  I could hear them talk at the sides.  Is it really her?  I thought she wasn’t in good terms with her family?  Does she want reconciliation?  What does she want?  While I stood there feeling awkward, my mother together with my two older sisters penetrated out of the unsure crowd.  My heart pounded loudly that my thoughts were inaudible.  I have no idea what to expect.  But then my mother as she walked towards me smiled like I’ve never seen her before.  She was happy to see me.  She was very motherly and hospitable now.