Lighter

t h i r t y - t w o

if only i could change the world you view,
i would be your r e s c u e . . .

⚡️⚡️⚡️

o n e  y e a r  l a t e r

The red cap on my head was squeezing my skull just enough to make it apparent I'd have a crease in my hair that I carelessly curled an hour ago. Meanwhile, the matching polyester robe covering my mini dress was claustrophobic, sticking to my skin in the North Carolina humidity that wasn't letting up despite the fact that it was barely nine in the morning. But I refused to take both items off because I knew she'd want to see me like this.

Dressed for my college graduation.

I had ninety minutes before the ceremony actually started, so I had thirty minutes to spare before I needed to head to campus. There was only one way I could think to spend that extra time, and it was with my mom.

From where I stood outside of Ronnie's car, I could see her cherry blossom tree, the branches bare and long finished blooming. It was a major change from the last time I saw it, two months ago to mark twelve years of her being gone. Now, it was empty, scarce with a few green buds and tiny twigs.

Ronnie's door shut after he got out of the driver's seat, making me flinch at the sound. We were the only two people in the cemetery for as far as I could see. It was quiet, still, and eerie, as it always was. Friday mornings in May weren't too popular for visiting, I guess.

A year and a half with him and this would be Ronnie's first time visiting my mother's grave with me. I figured the morning of my graduation was pretty appropriate, and of course he was up for it the second I mentioned the idea. I don't think I'll ever meet anyone more supportive than him.

I came around his car to stand next to him, my eyes locked on the tree. I could feel his gaze on me, but I kept staring like I was waiting for a miracle.

"That tree is so much prettier when it's in bloom," I absentmindedly said, my voice hoarser than I intended it to be. In my head, I added on, it's always the week of her death anniversary.

He cleared his throat and I still wasn't looking at him. "I can wait by the car, if you want," he murmured, "It's up to you."

Shaking my head, I turned to him as a smile barely lifted my lips. My hand latched onto his and our fingers slotted together, like I wasn't meant to hold anyone else's hand but his. "No, it's fine. I want you to meet her."

"I'd love to," he whispered, followed by a small spark in his eyes and the quirking of his mouth.

With a quick nod, I led us down the row of gravestones I'd grown too familiar with over the years, every last name passing me by like a checkpoint. Hughes, Sinclair, McKean, Gonzalez. It was almost a dozen more until I stopped when we reached the cherry blossom tree and Benson was in front of us.

As soon as I saw her name, my heart rate spiked. I squeezed Ronnie's hand without realizing it and shut my eyes, taking those few seconds to control my breathing. Smell the flowers, blow out the candles.

Three times and I opened my eyes again. Ronnie remained silent, his tight grip on my hand the most consoling thing I could ask for.