Adrien woke up to sun streaming through his windows. Groaning, he turned to look at the clock. It read 9:48. He sat up, confused. He was bound to have had something by now. His father didn't just give him a day off. Then he saw the date on the calendar and collapsed back on his bed.
The one day a year he had the entire day off, and he didn't even want to do anything. His limbs felt heavy and sleep pulled at his eyes, but he couldn't fall back asleep. Rolling out of bed, he crawled to his closet and pulled out a solid black polo and dark jeans. It didn't take him long to shower and get dressed.
The house had a heavy silence hanging over it as he walked down the stairs. Nathalie was waiting for him at the bottom.
"Your father has asked me to remind you not to bother him today. He also says you have the day to do as you wish as long as it is responsible." She paused, her gaze softening. "I'm sorry, Adrien." Perhaps she was remembering, like he was, the time that seemed so long ago when this day had brought light to the household. How the cooks had worked hard to make a perfect breakfast. How flowers filled the rooms. How laughter had permeated the air. Adrien shook his head, trying his best to stop the stinging in his eyes.
"Don't be." Nathalie sighed and started to walk away.
"Oh, Adrien? Some flowers arrived for you." She pointed to a vase near the front door. Adrien mumbled a thanks and grabbed the flowers after slipping into his large black coat.
The day was chilly even for the end of May. The boy pulled his coat tighter around him as he walked down the streets. He took his time, passing old childhood places that each held more happy memories then he'd had in the past several years. The stinging in his eyes grew more intense the closer he got to his destination.
Finally, he arrived at the Père Lachaise Cemetery. His heart pounded as he started walking almost automatically to the headstone he was looking for. He took in the beautiful tombs staring in awe at the many he'd seen so often before and at the ones he must've missed on previous visits.
The headstone he found was simple. A rounded piece of granite that stood in the ground, proudly announcing who had been laid in the ground there. Lately, Adrien had noticed it sagging as if burdened with the weight of the death of the young woman.
It read his mother's name and had a picture of her engraved in the center. At the bottom it read "Never truly gone from our hearts." He'd always liked the saying. The stinging grew more intense as the teen slowly sagged to his knees, his head bent. The flowers he clutched in his hand were gently lain across the ground. Purple calla lilies. His mother's favorite. He knelt there for a while, struggling to quell the stinging. It grew harder as memories flashed through his mind.
At last, he gave up. He sat down on the ground and leaned onto the headstone, head in his arm. He never truly sobbed, only wept, his back heaving. The headstone supported him in his moment of weakness. He wondered why it was so unfair, why she had to be gone. Why couldn't she be here, helping him work through his day? Helping his father to be happy.
It was only when the sun had reached it's zenith and started to descend that Adrien's weeping calmed down enough for him to get up. He stood up slowly, wiping the tears from his face in vain.
"Happy Mother's Day, mère."
He walked slowly home, tears still streaming down a face that was too mature for the age he was.
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