On a hot summer day the subtle smell of bread and freshly made orange juice filled the air.
Meryl ran her hands through her hair and glanced at her wrist watch sleepily. Tracing the outline of it on her wrist she caught her reflection shinning off the glass and warmly recalled the day Tim had given it to her to mark their ten years of marriage. She smiled through a yawn and cracked two eggs into a frying pan over a hot stove. Humming softly as she made their omelets she looked towards the door every so often. Any minute he would be home.
It wasn't like him to not come home at night, but he had done it a few times before, always bringing home rare treasures which he would spend hours talking about. Starry eyed and laughing, explaining their journey and their significance. And she would spend hours listening to him, breathing in his euphoria like flowers from a lover or fresh laundry.
Setting the plates down on opposite sides of the table she looked out the window. She could see Amanda's plot near the river fishing by herself. Sipping some of the orange juice she remembered the silly grin she had had just the other day when she had come over to Paradise Orchard to pick up some jam. Setting the juice down, she stared at her omelet, Tim's favorite, and took a bite of it. A glance out the window, and another bite. This continued for thirty minutes after which, with a heavy sigh, she rose and left her dish in the sink and put his in the fridge for when he came home.
Wiping down the table she thought to herself, "He's only late." The same thought resurfaced when she was boiling fruits for Uncle Ronald. In fact for the remainder of the day those thoughts echoed in the back of her head. Like white noise; her own personal distraction.
Her brow furrowed at the time. It was evening now and she had forgotten to eat. Had she known better she would have insisted that she had forgotten to breathe.
Sitting down on her cot, she rubbed her hands which were shaking now from worry. She laughed to herself, nervously, her voice shaking, "…He's just late, yes that's it…Any minute and he'll walk in…" Tears shook her, she motioned with her hands cupping his invisible face, "…Big goofy grin… Like a twelve year old…His backpack so heavy…so heavy he can barely walk…Ha..Any minute now, hahaha…!"
Clutching at her chest suddenly - there was a person at the door! Meryl rose slowly, dabbing at her eyes quickly before answering the door. It was Kurt who would barely even look at her.
"Gwen asked me to come get you, we need you at Bob's Ranch."
Her heart sank.
The ranch was much colder and brighter than she had remembered it being. In the corner she saw Hank and Ellen whispering to each other as she entered. Ellen offered her a tear stained smile which she was afraid to return. Kurt lead her upstairs to Bob's room and she felt her face pale.
There, Bob was crying ferociously, Gwen rubbing his back with the most bitter expression she had ever seen. Were those tears on her cheeks? Kurt coughed, drawing Bob's attention away from his bed and to Meryl. His eyes grew even wider at her face and he broke once more into tears.
Meryl took a step closer to the bed and upon the sight she felt her knees weaken and crumpled against Gwen who supported her.
In the bed was Tim, her Tim, the one who just a day ago had been the picture of health and happiness. Weeping bitterly into Gwen's shoulder her echo became why. Of all the people she had loved, why Tim, why now?
"Kurt found him in the mines," Gwen spoke finally, patting Meryl's back as this information drove her into a set of shivers. "He had forgotten to bring any medicine, or he had run out and well — the gasses…" Her voice cracked and she looked to Bob who had stopped weeping and was unwrapping his little brother's helmet.
Hearing the familiar click, Meryl turned around stricken with grief and watched as the helmet was removed and handed to her.
Meryl clutched the helmet in her hands, holding it close to her, remembering the fearless boy she always knew she would marry and the one she never imagined she could ever lose.