-This chapter is rated R- Just FYI:).
Robert, Jamie, My mother, James (Jamie's husband), and myself were all in the kitchen, sitting at the dining table, discussing my father's will. Actually, the lack of one.
My father sixty five years old when he passed and no will.
Although, it didn't surprise me, he thought he'd live forever.
It had been about an hour since Downey and my arrival.
Seeing my mom was awkward, but she could always make any situation comfortable. After not seeing her in over a year, her beautifully fading red hair, was turning into a light blonde. As she used to say, "Redheads do not gray, only fade."
I guess it was true -- my mother now being almost sixty three, no gray, just fading, like she has always said. As I kept looking at her, I noticed tiny wrinkles that were not there the last time I had seen her. She looked great. I could tell by her worn out, tired drooping eyes, she was stressed... All things considered, she still looked great.
We hugged, talked briefly. She was always sweet to me, even though I would probably hate her, if she had said the things to me, that I had to her. She has a beautiful heart.
"The funeral will be a week from today, has everyone agreed on that?" Jamie asks quietly, looking over her notes she had made about my dad's funeral.
Everyone said yes, for it to be next Sunday.
"I think we've gone over pretty much everything, now. Anything else?" I patiently ask. Even though, I wanted to leave this uncomfortable, depressing conversation.
My mother puts her index finger on her chin, tapping it slightly, making it seem she was deeply thinking.
"Sending the invites. I would mail them... That being said, I am old and don't know how you youngster's do things nowadays." My mother chuckles.
"Oh, Aunt Sara, like I've said, I do not want you going to much trouble for this. It's going to be a small memorial service here, with very few people. I will send emails to the people we have disscused to say their final goodbyes. And you are not old!"
Jamie, Jamie, Jamie... She was too sweet for her own good. I said that to myself way too soon.
"It's no trouble, dear... Really, it isn't. I'll bake some pies... Oh how John loved his pumpkin pie.." My mom trails off, as she gazes into the distance, obviously thinking of my dad, her ex husband, she once loved.
"Oh Gosh! I had forgotten about him and pumpkin pies! Oh, Scar, do you remember that? He'd make sure your mother would bake them for every birthday. Oh! And he would always hide one at a gathering, so he could have it all to himself. The first dessert your dad gave you was a piece of pumpkin pie...." Jamie went on for about half an hour about pumpkin pies..
Which of course, I do remember.
I never forgot. What they didn't know, was that I left one on his doorstep once a week after he wouldn't answer his door for almost a month.
He never ate one, I don't think.. The raccoons would usually be the first to get them.
"Well, I better be getting home." My mother says with tears swelling in her eyes..
"I'll give you a ride, Auntie." Jamie gets up from the chair, with the notes she had written about the funeral next Sunday, in her hand, walking over and putting them in a drawer next to the refrigerator.
"Well, I have to go get a new, 'go phone'... So, I'll probably be leaving too.. Maybe back tonight." I add.
"Sounds like a crazy night, dislocated shoulder, lost your phone, and bringing a new handsome man here today. What shenanigans did you get into last night, Scarlett?" Jamie laughs..
