At the End of the Garden

Chapter Sixteen

I struggled to pull myself out of bed the next day. My body felt heavy, like it didn't belong to me and I was in no control of it. I'd forgotten to set an alarm and Dad had come upstairs to wake me up around nine, concerned I wouldn't be ready in time to go out. He didn't know how long it would take me to get ready, but knew I liked to make an effort each year for the event commemorating the anniversary of Evelyn Quinn's death.
Mine and Eden's conversation could not have come at a worse time. Today I had to go to his house and feel sorry for him, even if he hated the sympathy. If the moon had a yearly cycle, today would be a new moon for Eden. Even though he didn't act like and I never saw him cry over it, today was the day he would probably be the most vulnerable. The most sad. If he was able to. I would feel sorry for him, impartially.
I knew why I was angry, at least I thought I did. I was angry because he used me. Wasn't that it? If Eden and I hadn't dated what could I have done? If Eden and I hadn't dated, where would Sidney be?
I pretended to be getting up when my dad left my room. Once he was gone I rolled back under my duvet. I didn't want anything to be awkward today, but I felt like I was meant to be mad. This was something I was meant to be angry at him for, surely.
But I wouldn't have even spent so much time with Sidney if it weren't for Eden. We wouldn't have gone on our walks around the school together, I wouldn't have come to appreciate his stupid smirky grin if it weren't for Eden. I wouldn't have gone through any of what happened in the last few weeks, if Eden hadn't used me.
And I had used Sidney.
I sat up in bed rapidly as if someone had dropped a ton of bricks on my legs. Time to get out of bed and make myself busy.
Every year, my mum would insist on wearing black for this occasion, but I didn't like it. For my birthday, the year she died, Evelyn had bought me a dress. I'd said I really liked one of her summer dresses, so she bought me a similar one in the same style. She loved anything loose and floral, and it had grown on me too. The first time the event was held was a year later. It just about fit me then, but I wore that dress rather than any traditional funeral clothes. By now, I'd grown out of it, obviously. The past two years I've bought something new to wear. Eden approved of it. I think he hated the idea of this event being a yearly funeral, not that he would dress up particularly colourful though. This year's dress was white, like the last ones, but had a flowery pattern all over with baby blue ink splatters on the petals. The straps and the belt were navy.
My mum didn't think highly of it, though she didn't force me to change when I came downstairs. She was putting on her earrings in the living room mirror and took one look at me through the reflection and said:
"You look very pretty, Marie, but I'm not sure the outfits appropriate."
Her outfit was the opposite of mine. She wore a straight grey dress that hugged her curves tightly completed with a black blazer on top. Too formal for me. Dad had a suit to match. The only reason I had been allowed to wear what I wanted was because, the first year, my mum had been out the morning before the event and hadn't had the chance to see me before arriving at Eden's house. If she had been there that morning, there would be a monochrome trio of matching outfits.

The main gate was left open when we got to Eden's and there were a few cars already in the driveway. I recognise Victor Quinn's mother's car. She liked old, vintage things from when she was young, however long ago that was. You could see her taste modelled in the car. Eden's maternal grandparent's car was a bit more modest, but as far as I knew they didn't use it often.
Victor Quinn was the one who answered the door for us. Overall, my parents seemed happy to see him. Dad saw him more than my mum did, I think, when he came to pick me up. Victor Quinn smiled, sort of. It was the same way Eden smiled to teachers. Maybe he was genuinely happy to see his old friends. He shook hands with Dad and my mum got a kiss on the cheek. He sorted acknowledged my presence with a nod, although I think I'd rather him pretend I wasn't here at all.
He led us through to the conservatory. The familiar house always felt unfamiliar when Victor Quinn was playing host and not headteacher (although, technically Eden was the host since he organised everything). I didn't go to the conservatory often, I never found reason to, but it hadn't changed since the last time I was in here.
It was mostly glass, with spotless white frames. I noticed the flowers I picked out for Eden in white vases along the windowsills and tables. There were two tables for sitting and one long one down the middle with food on it. Sitting at the tables were Eden's grandparents, on the table furthest from the door was Victor's mother, and on the one closest to us was Evelyn's parents. I saw Eden talking to his paternal grandmother on the other side of the room. He glanced up before instantly returning to the conversation.
I recognised almost everyone. They had been here the year before. Some of Victor Quinn's other friends, one of Evelyn's cousins that lived in the country. I didn't know how the rest of them where related to Evelyn or Eden. Still, my mum went round greeting everybody having remembered all of their names while me and Dad trailed behind her. Mum did most of the talking and people seemed to recognise her the most. Occasionally, someone would ask about me and how I was doing in school and what subjects I was taking and other boring stuff. They'd say it like I wasn't there but I had to answer like they hadn't before we could move onto the next person. It was kind of comical when we made it to Eden, because my mum almost brushed him off entirely. Dad was the one who stuck his hand out for him to shake. He commented on how grown up he seemed and how Evelyn would have been proud of him. I'd forgotten I'd told Dad about Eden's... act of violence, but it didn't stop him from treating Eden like an adult in the moment. I think, if someone had said something like that to me, I would have started crying on the spot. But of course Eden didn't. He thanked my dad before excusing himself to go talk to his other grandparents on the other side of the room, who I liked a lot more than the one we were now stuck with.
Victor Quinn's mother did not make you wonder where her son and grandson 'got it from'. They must have had some incredibly dominant genes in this family because she had the same blue eyes as them. And I thought blue was supposed to be a weaker colour. She had the same serious demeanour as her descendants, but she was a bit more traditional. She wasn't the type of old lady you'd want to catch you in ripped jeans or with a piercing. She didn't like my fashion choices to these events. But she was the main reason I was still allowed to dress like this. The first year this was held the old woman had a conversation with my mum about taking me home to get changed into something else. While my mum didn't like the dress either, she hated being told what to do even more. So, the dress stayed.
Evelyn's parents, on the other hand, marvelled at my dresses. Her mother especially. Each year, they told told me they'd buy me the next one, but never got round to it. They were easier to talk too and a lot less intimidating than the other guests. That's why I was some what relieved when Evelyn's mother called me other to sit with her not too long into the afternoon.
They were younger than my grandparents and before Evelyn had passed I'd only met them on a few occasions. They had thick accents that I hadn't bothered to understand when I was little. I tended to avoid them until I became old and patient enough to listen. I knew they were from Greece but had moved over when Eden was born and for various other reasons. They had planned to go back at some point, but plans changed when their only grandchild was left without any good parental figures, as I'd heard them complain to Dad once. The grandmother was the talkative one. The grandfather used to scare me. He was a big, quiet man. But he wasn't like Victor Quinn. He didn't quite have the grasp on the English language as his wife did, and what I'd learned was he was more shy than scary. He'd ask about Eden a lot, make me repeat things so he was sure he heard them correctly. The pair were sweet. Eden's grandmother asked about school, made a few snide remarks about how Eden was too much like his father, then an even snider remark about how Eden didn't rush in to hug her like he would have done when he was small. They both asked about Eden too, things they couldn't get out of the boy himself. Like, did he have friends at school? What are they like? Typical doting questions. I answered them as honestly as I could without thinking I would put them in any unease or worry about their beloved grandson. Eden's friend group were a normal and good, I thought. Though the only problem was I wasn't Eden actually considered them his friends. I didn't tell them that.
By the time I was talking to his grandparents, Eden had moved away to stand with his father. I hadn't spoken to him once since I got here, and I really should have, just to be polite if nothing else. He wasn't making any effort to talk with me either, he even avoided the eye contact I tried to make. This day was probably bad enough without him feeling like he had to avoid me. The afternoon went on like this, with him subtly trying to keep away from me. I decided not to chase him around the room. Though, just once, I did catch him going over to the food table. I tried to get to the destination before him, but as soon as he noticed he turned away and pretended he was going to talk to someone else. The only time we were close, he didn't say anything to me, and I couldn't say anything serious because I was with my parents.