Invisible String

Chapter 22 - This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

After I finished getting dressed, we joined Alison and my dad out in the living room. They were sitting around the coffee table, drinking tea, and when I came out, they all got quiet.

Feeling self-conscious and awkward, I wrapped my arms around my waist and sat beside my dad.

"What's up?" I asked, knowing they were talking about me.

"Nothing, honey."

"Dad..." I looked from him to my sister.

"I was just saying that I was glad that Grandpa held on for you," Alison said. I took in a deep breath and nodded my head slightly.

"Me too," I choked out quickly, attempting to keep my tears at bay. At least for now.

We got up soon afterward. Sandra was at work because, unlike the rest of us, they needed her more. She was able to get the funeral off tomorrow but other than that, she wasn't able to do much.

We followed my dad home and got settled in their guest bedroom, then joined my mom and the rest of the family in the living room/dining room area. The house was big, two stories of awkward levels. It met together like a glitching freeze-frame; one part lower, one part middle, one part lower again. But it was home, and I loved it. It was nice to be back. I introduced Alex to the rest of the family, and they were all welcoming and kind towards him. I even took our family dog, Peter, out back and played with him for a bit with Alex and my brother's oldest daughter, Rebecca.

Thankfully Alex loved animals nearly as much as I did, so he would never underappreciate my enthusiasm for him because he had that same attitude. We spent a good hour out back playing with the dog and my niece. My dad ended up calling us back inside around noon, and we ate lunch with the whole family. We weren't a huge family, at least like this, but when everyone got together, it was chaotic, even just the nine of us. The boys ate quickly and messily. Alex was reasonably proper, but even he scarfed the food down within five minutes of sitting down and saying a prayer. We girls took our time, eating, talking a little bit now and then. Everyone was quiet for the most part, though. Too tired and sad to really keep conversations going.

After eating, we helped my mom with some calls and other things that needed to be done for the funeral tomorrow. We cooked a few pots of homemade chicken noodle soup and made fresh bread to serve at the wake. It was my Grandpa's favorite foods, and we really just wanted to honor him. We knew other people would be bringing food, too, which was great, but this way, we were doing something to honor him. And it made us feel better.

By the time we were done, it was late, somewhere around eleven, and we all retired to our respective rooms. Alex and I fell asleep quickly. I hadn't done that much cooking in a long while.

We woke up early, at almost seven in the morning, and joined my mom and dad in the kitchen. It was quiet in the house; others were still fast asleep. My dad had a pot of coffee ready and quickly got us two mugs. We sat down and drank them in silence while my mom worked on some last-minute bills and stuff. She waved my dad over, and after a few groans, he went into his study and grabbed his checkbook.

"Mom, I don't mean to embarrass you, or anything like that, but can I help you with the bills for Grandpa's funeral and stuff, if you need it. I don't mind. I mean, I want to help. I can help."

She looked up, over her glasses, across the table at me. "Hannah, we have the money. Don't worry about us."

"Mom." I shook my head, staring into her. "Please don't let your pride get in the way here. I can help, and it's not going to cause me any problems. You know that."

"Hannah, dammit, I don't want your money, okay?"

"Okay, mom," I said, leaning back in my chair, sipping on my coffee. By the time my dad came back, my mom was flipping through the papers again.