The Night After A Funeral
Darkchilde
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He found her sitting on the steps of the Cliff girl's lodge, her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin resting on her knees. Her eyes were lifted to the sky as she stared at the millions of stars hanging overhead on the velvet backdrop of the night sky. She'd been eerily quite since she and Shelby and Sophie had come back from her mother's funeral, and he was beginning to worry about her.
Okay, beginning was an understatement. Since he had found out about her mother, not a minute had gone by when he hadn't worried for her, prayed that she would be all right.
He deluded himself into believing that she was strong, that it wouldn't bother her. And before she had left, he had almost believed himself.
But then she had come home, and hadn't spoken a word to anyone since. And he knew that, once again, he was wrong.
Ezra Friedkin stopped about twenty feet away from her, unsure if he should approach her or not. Daisy Lipenowski looked like she wanted nothing more then to be alone. However, he wasn't sure that was the wisest course of action right now.
Of course, it might not be wise to not do what she wanted either. If he interrupted her, she might get angry, and that was the last thing he wanted to right now.
Ezra's decision on if he should or shouldn't was taken away when Daisy called. "I know you're there, whoever you are. You're not as quiet as you think you are."
The young man sighed, and walked forward until he was standing just inside of the pool of light that the porch light created. Daisy dropped her eyes to look, and he saw one of her eyebrows lift.
"Hi Ezra."
"Hey." Was all he could think to say when she pinned him with her bright brown eyes. "How are you?"
"Would you like an honest answer?" Daisy asked, her tone the dry one he remembered well.
"Um, maybe later. How about the 'gee-I'm-swell' response now?" Ezra asked, trying to keep his tone light.
"Alright. Gee, Ezra, I'm just great! My mother's dead, my father still can't look me in the eye and I've had so many people ask me 'how are you' I could just scream. And yourself?" Daisy sarcasm was almost visible.
"I deserved that. I was just...worried about you. You haven't said much since you got back last night." Ezra said after a minute.
"Yeah, well, I've had a lot on my mind." Was her response.
"I'd say." Ezra nodded, taking a step forward. Daisy eyed him for a minute, and then wiggled her fingers and patted the step next to her.
"You're making me nervous just standing there." She said by way of explanation. Ezra didn't think twice, just sat down on the steps beside her, wrapping his own arms around his legs.
For awhile, neither of them spoke, just sat beside one another, soaking in the night air and the chirping of the crickets. A wind blew down from one of the mountains, ruffling Ezra's hair, and making Daisy's dance around her face. She smoothed it back with hurried annoyed movements, before returning to the pose she'd been in when he found her.
Ezra looked at the young woman out of the corner of his eye, wondering what was going on inside of her brain at that moment. She looked---different. Not bad, just different. Older, he thought. She looks older. And sadder.
"She wasn't a very good mother." Daisy's statement drew him out of his thoughts. "And he is a bad father. Sometimes I wish that I had never been born."
"Daisy.." Ezra began, uncertain of how to continue. The young Goth-girl stopped anything else he might have thought to say by putting her head on his shoulder. Instinct took over, and Ezra wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.
"I hate them, but at the same time..." Daisy was sounding dangerously close to tears, a feat in itself. Ezra pressed his cheek against her hair, still trying to know somehow what to do, what to say. But Daisy didn't seem to mind-she moved closer to him, seeming to take comfort in there closeness. "He gave me pictures."
"Pictures?" Ezra asked, confused. "Pictures of..?"
"Us. My family. When I was little." She clarified, her voice slightly muffled.
"Oh." Was Ezra's witty response.
There was another long moment of silence, Daisy's head still resting against his shoulder. Ezra was once again beginning to lose himself in the sounds of the night, when Daisy spoke again.
"Do you want..do you want to see them?"
"Your pictures?" Ezra asked, then mentally slapped himself. Of course she meant the pictures! "Well…yeah, if you wanna show me."
Daisy nodded. "Alright. Stay right here." She pulled herself to her feet and disappeared into the lodge for a minute, leaving Ezra alone with his thoughts. Exactly fifty-five seconds later, Daisy materialized, clutching a dark photo album. She sat back down on the porch steps beside him, flipping the book open.
Ezra smiled at the image of the little dark haired girl and her parents. Daisy had been such an adorable little girl. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and had to admit that she was just as beautiful now.
"Your probably wondering why I'm showing these to you, aren't you?" And for what seemed like the millionth time tonight, Daisy's voice shook him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, maybe just a little bit." He admitted.
She turned her head to look at him, her lips pulling into a soft half smile. He turned to face her as well, and smiled in response. Daisy shook her head.
"I don't know why. I just..want to."
"I understand that." Ezra agreed, turning back to the pictures. He chuckled at the picture of Daisy and her mother lying in the snow. Daisy let out a low laugh as well, and slipped her free hand into Ezra's. He nearly jumped, and looked over at her. Her eyes were on the pictures, and she had a forced look of relaxation on her face. Ezra squeezed her fingers gently, then turned once more to look at the picture's of his friend's childhood.