The Risks

October: Chapter 36

WAKING UP BESIDE Parker every morning was a luxury that I quickly got used to, but would never tire of. This morning he was still asleep, lying on his stomach, the blankets pooling around his waist. The morning sun seemed to glow against the exposed skin of his back. His forearms were beneath his head, his face buried into the soft pillow.

How can he possibly breathe like that, I wondered as I watched his rib cage expand with each inhale.

I took my watch from the bedside table, checking the time as I strapped it onto my wrist. Just past nine in the morning. If we were going to have breakfast today, we needed to get going. 

I rolled toward him and lightly trailed my fingers along the scar on his back, fascinated by the contrast of tough, rippled tissue and smooth skin- a rugged ridge in a vast prairie. 

I felt him shiver just slightly and heard him hum softly into the pillow. I smiled and leaned down to plant a kiss on his shoulder blade. He hummed again, a little more alert, and rolled onto his back.

"Hi there, sleepyhead."

"Good morning," he said, his voice still thick with sleep as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. 

"We've got less than an hour to get breakfast," I told him, trying not to think about how warm his skin was against mine. 

He nuzzled his face against my collarbone. "We could skip it."

Hm. Tempting. 

"People will wonder where we are."

"Let them wonder."

I closed my eyes, leaning into the press of his lips at the base of my neck, then pulled away. 

"The funeral is today," I reminded him and his mood immediately shifted. 

It had been nearly a week since we'd cleared the elementary. The funeral probably would have been sooner, but I imagine it takes a long time for one person to move seventeen bodies and dig seventeen graves. Not to mention that one person was also responsible for cleaning all the blood as well.

Although I'd never had the chance to know any of the people who we'd be remembering, that didn't stop the existential dread. Funerals were never easy. Between thinking of my own dead and watching all these people mourn theirs, it was going to be an emotionally draining day.

I could tell Parker felt the same as I watched him close his eyes and exhale a long sigh.

"I forgot," he said when he met my gaze again.

I gave him a small, apologetic smile. "We'd better get going."

...

The procession started at noon. The whole community was gathered out past the football field, past the crops in a small field where the metal walls surrounding the school came to a corner. 

There were eighteen graves total. One old -with the small wooden cross reading David- and seventeen new, the dirt atop them dark and soft.

Spencer sat in the shade of the wall, his back pressed against the thick metal and a shovel across his lap. He was covered in dirt and sweat, looking like he was on the verge of passing out. He glanced in our direction, but didn't even make an effort to scowl at us before closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

Good.

It was a cool day, maybe sixty-five degrees and I zipped my jacket up halfway while Parker wore just a t-shirt beneath his thick flannel. He claimed his body temperature ran hot which was fine with me because it just meant I usually ended up with his extraneous clothing, a comfort I was always grateful for.