Notes: Written for comment_fic based on the prompt "Raison pies are for funerals".
*.*.*.*
Jo had expected to feel empty and lost the moment Beth left them. The truth was that she hardly felt anything at all, save for overwhelmed. There was simply so much to do… things that she had never known about or considered, but which took up her every moment for the week leading up to the burial.
Beth's body needed to be drained first of fluid, and dusted with embalming powder. It needed to be cleaned, and her smooth brown hair needed to be brushed one last time. Then there was the matter of choosing a dress for her, and wondering whether or not she needed stockings and a chemise still, or if it would be better not to struggle to pull them over her stiff legs.
Jo had never owned black clothing before, and she had to purchase some, as was right and proper for mourning. The gown that Meg bought for herself was slightly too loose around the waist, and Jo took on the alterations just too keep her hands busy.
The room where Beth had died was cleaned and dusted, and the sheets were washed before being returned to the bed that surely no one would want to sleep in again. Jo tried to pretend that her sister was still there, and not in the coffin that lay open in the living room. As soon as she let the thought enter her head, she wished it hadn't. It was the beginning of worry and discontent, and every feeling that threatened to swallow Jo whole if she let them. She sat on that bed for several minutes with her head touching her knees, but she didn't cry.
That night a breeze from outside awakened Jo, who had been in the habit of answering even the faintest whisper of her sister at every hour of the night. She reached out for Beth and found herself sobbing until Marmee arrived to stroke her hair, and offer solace. It was the first of many such nights.
The day of the funereal arrived.
That morning Meg sat beside Jo on the couch. The old horsehair pillow had fallen to the ground, and Jo nudged it absently with her feet, thinking of how she'd once used to it to beat off Laurie, and how much she wished he was still around now.
"Aunt March handed me this," Meg said, taking out a piece of white paper with a bemused look on her pretty face.
"Let me see," Jo said, taking it from her quickly, for she did not appreciate the paths that her mind was following and longed for distraction. "Why, it's a recipe for raison pie. Wonder what it's for?"
"She said it was a family tradition to make it for funerals," Meg explained, "though I don't know how anyone could be thinking of eating today."
"Let's make it," Jo said.
Meg gave her an odd look.
"Can't stand sitting here waiting. Daisy, Demi, and Aunt will eat it if nobody else will. Come on."
The two sisters did not speak much as they worked on the pie, but they worked well together, dividing the tasks of cooking it between them. They stood side by side, Meg cracking the eggs for the crust while Jo stirred a concoction of cinnamon, sugar, raisons and nuts. It was not so much the job that gave Jo solace, but she felt keenly at that moment that Meg was very dear to her.