AN: Hey y'all. This is going to be a probable 3-shot. I already have the makings of a sequel in my head but for now this was a story that I felt like drabbling out. I hope you all enjoy! - R
The coffee, previously having been scalding hot, had cooled so that the steam had stopped fogging her glasses. She rarely wore her glasses but on a day that she'd woken up late to bleak cold meant that some things had to be rushed. She didn't feel in much of a rush now.
The sugar packets in her hand had never made it into the cup—and she didn't much know what to do about it. In the other hand her iphone had long dimmed after the caller on the other line had hung up. It felt cliché to say that the world had gone quiet. Thankfully, the cliché didn't hold up for long because now it all seemed too loud. There were only two other people sitting in the dining area besides herself and their quiet chatting seemed too close and personal. Her hairline beaded with sweat from the heat that had risen to her cheeks— but she felt frozen shut. She didn't know how to call the waitress over to tell her to cancel the food she'd ordered, just like she'd forgotten how to sweeten her coffee.
All of the family deaths that occurred in her life had been in her childhood. There'd been a whole string where she, as an eight year old, had become quite used to the idea. But that was more than a decade ago. Her grandmother had long outlived her life expectancy. Really it should be a joy that she'd passed—free from suffering or something…maybe?
Her eyes were the first things to move, flicking over to the sugar packets still clutched in her hand concentrating on releasing them she looked at her phone and ensured that she was still just as late as she was when she'd hit her snooze for the third time. Unlocking her screen and scrolling through her contacts until she'd found the number to the school she dialed and put it to her ear though her eyes now stared at the coffee as the waitress set her food down before her with a smile that naturally went unseen.
"Hi, yes, it's Erin Fare, yes Ms. Fare from 217… Mhm, yeah I'm so sorry. No, no I'm not sick, I'm sorry, no I just got a call from my dad and my grandmother passed on last night…"
She trailed off, those weren't her father's exact words. In fact he'd said that she was found last night, by her neighbor. God only knew how long it had been that her grandma Eve had stayed there. Was she in her bed? On the ground? In the shower? Lilith finally closed her eyes as if to shut out the possible mental reality of her grandmother dying naked and alone. Swallowing to clear her tight throat she knew her voice sounded hoarse as she continued.
"Thank you, I appreciate that. It's just that I'm the only one of my family who's in Gotham and I have things to take care of…"
What sorts of things? She couldn't really remember. But dad would be emailing her as soon as he had access to the internet. The first stop was the hospital and then figure out some arrangements? Paperwork? She hadn't done this before. She wasn't sure if she felt old or young.
"Yes thank you very much, just let Mrs. Barksdale know I'm very sorry and I'll send her the lesson plans in a half hour. Thank you."
After she hung up. She reached into her wallet and pulled out a twenty and put it next to her untouched food. Her coffee was cold and it seemed improbable she could even remember to be hungry.
The train ride was filled with a buzzing that she couldn't determine was from the lights or in her head. But once she got out blinking into the harsh November sun, her walk began to Gotham general. She wasn't positive how she knew where to go. Maybe it was because of the repeated reports on the hospitals progress since it had been begun to be rebuilt three years ago. Though not fully finished to its former glory—what stood there now was growing and immaculate compared to the old hospital. It seemed to make a strange sense to her that morgues were built into hospitals; it would be so strange to carry the dead to another place once they died in one of the many rooms of Gotham general.
Her mind had created scenes of her crying dramatically, but instead she just felt small and inconvenient. Like she'd become this human doorstop for a long string of people coming into a place she wanted to leave. It was bizarre to fill out paperwork when she'd really expected scenes about her crying. Realizing how many papers she had on the clipboard that the nurse gave her, she quickly dialed her roommate's phone number.
"Amy, I'm not going into class today. Could you send Mrs. Barksdale my lesson plans?"
Amy knew her password, knew which folder to look into, and knew to send it to which email. They'd been roommates al through college and friends before that so Amy would naturally know something was wrong, but she would also do what Erin needed before asking any questions. But before Erin hung up the phone Amy said
"Don't worry about it sweetie, I'll see you tonight but hey, wait… is it like… an ice cream night or like a sick night, do you want me to pick up anything?"
Again, she'd felt her throat tighten up but her eyes stubbornly stayed dry. Even then she was thinking of all the things she had to do—overwhelmed by an onset of adulthood.
"No, I'll be fine, I'll just talk to you when I get home okay?"
When the seemingly endless paperwork does in fact come to an end she dimly returns to the receptionist of the waiting room.
"Hi, I filled in everything I could. There are some things I didn't know but…"
The woman behind the desk looked her over before tightening her lips in a smile as she took the offered clipboard.
"Don't worry honey. No one knows how to fill everything out, just as long as you can give the confirmation of your consent as the representative family then really you're all good. I'm sorry for your loss"
Erin nodded and offered what she hoped looked like a smile though she wasn't sure she got it right because her mind still had that buzz in the back like she'd forgotten to turn some timer off. Realizing that Erin didn't have a response the receptionist tilted her head.
"Did the nurse give you directions to the shelter?"
For a moment Erin felt her heart restart assuming that 'shelter' was some key word for morgue and that she would actually have to see her grandmother's body. Noting the stricken look on her face the receptionist was already typing something into the computer and pulling out a post it to write directions.
"Your grandmother's cat was taken to Mary's on 11th street. It's fine for the cat to stay there but if you can, I suggest you pick it up as soon as possible, it's better for it to be with family and I reckon it might be better for you too."
Erin took the post it and stared at the loops of the handwriting that belonged to a different generation and then looked back to the receptionist. She was only as old as her mom but suddenly she realized how old her mom was. Her mom that had now lost her own mom. Erin sort of wished she could cry to relinquish the tension in her throat but instead she made an attempt at some sort of formal thank you.
She'd apologized and thanked people all day long. Over the phone, at the shelter, the gas station attendant… everyone. There was so much to be done and she felt like a burden going about her own business and still she didn't cry. When she finally got back to her apartment twelve hours after she left it, Amy was sitting on the couch with her feet curled underneath her and obviously waiting for her roommates return.
Taking in Erin's expression and the fact she was carrying a whole pamphlet of paperwork, plus everything she'd been taking to school, and then a cat? in a crate in her other hand, Amy immediately got up.
"What happened to you today?"
Amy had thrown her arms around her the moment her stuff hit the floor. The forceful love was appreciated and reciprocated and still Erin's shoulders would not relax and she couldn't melt into it. She didn't even want to sit on the couch and talk about what a horrible day it had been and how horrible she felt. Erin carefully avoided mentioning her grandmother. She was now almost afraid she couldn't cry, or afraid she wouldn't stop when she started.
She went to bed without eating much and slept even less so when her alarm rang at five thirty for her to get up for school it had been another glasses day for sure. The students, in their rare way, picked up on her mood that week and were exceptionally well behaved. She'd only had them since that august and quickly they'd become near to her heart as they all do. Usually Erin's passion for her information lit her up from the inside but she couldn't get her head to be in one place for more than a moment.
It was three days since she'd been informed of Grandma Evie's death and therefore it had been three days since she'd brought the cat home. Boots, the twelve year old tabby, was Grandma Evie's last living cat and he was incredibly well behaved. She would have been content to keep him if Amy wasn't so allergic that she'd been wheezing for three days. Naturally Amy would wave off Erin's concerns saying—the cat is more than welcome.
But still, her guilt for her roommate's suffering meant that she took the cat with her all the way toward the narrows toward her grandmother's apartment.
Her dad had finally gotten an internet connection all the way in Papua New Guinea where both her parents studied. They were anthropologists who frequently took extended trips around the world—oftentimes when Erin was little she would have gone with them but since she started school, that wasn't a possibility. Now it had been a long time since she'd gone on one of those extended trips and now she had to take care of this by herself.
In his email, her father detailed Evie's will about most of her affects and what to do with the house until they could return sometime next week for the funeral. In other words, she was on her own. Well, not completely.
Upon stepping into her Grandmother's front door, Boots knew he was home and immediately darted out as soon as Erin bent down to open the cage. She couldn't help but laugh as he flopped over on the couch but it died quickly in her throat. Since the electric bill hadn't been paid it shouldn't have surprised her that the lights didn't obey the switch. She'd have to call in the morning.
For the time being she went to work finding candles, which made going through a dead person's house suddenly very creepy. There were all of her grandmother's things, waiting for their owner to come back and use them. Half a bottle of windex, clean dishes in the washer, a coat draped across the back of a chair. All of it was illuminated by little tea lights she'd set around the house as she began to hesitantly sort her grandmother's things. It was hard to justify getting rid of anything and it well after midnight, the piles around her had begun to look quite impressive.
The extent of her grandmother's stuff wasn't overly plentiful. Her grandmother believed in people more than things. She'd lived so close to the narrows and had worked hard to make a difference any way she could. After the second time she'd been robbed, Erin's parents had almost forced her to move but Evie was as stubborn as her granddaughter and stayed in a beautiful home surrounded by the derelict of Gotham's forgotten parts of the city.
For now, the area seemed quieter than usual, maybe in respect to the death of one of its own? Though Erin doubted it would ever be so well mannered.
She thought she would go back to her apartment, before she'd arrived in her grandmother's house, it seemed creepy to stay the night but as it got later she found comfort in the things and the pictures around her. Finally it was the weekend and she felt like she could concentrate about what mattered. Going to sleep in a bed that welcomed her with the smell of the lotion her grandmother wore on her hands, Erin had no preconception of what awaited her.