Chapter 3-

I awoke the next morning not to see my living room, but Tiffany's bedroom. I rose up and yawned, taking in my surroundings.
Her walls were still the light beige color she and I painted them two summers ago. She had white sheets and a new bright red quilt at the foot of the bed. It looked almost just like it did the last time I was here; only a handful of minor updates. But man, it seemed like ages since I was here last...
"Knock knock!" Tiffany's soprano voice filled the air.
"Hey." I replied groggily.
"Wow. You really do sleep in don't you?"
"Huh?" I said, dumbfounded.
"It's almost two in the afternoon, sleeping beauty!" She said, setting her coffee mug down on the nightstand.
I looked over at the alarm clock and it read 1:57 p.m. 'Huh.. That's odd.' I thought to myself. I haven't slept that long in months. I often woke up in the middle of the night calling out his name. Every night I used to dream of the fight, but after a few months my dreams turned to mush and I don't dream anymore... But I still call out for him, for some reason.
"Hey so I got your car taken back to your house, so no worries. Oh, and there's something here for you." Tiffany derailed my train of thoughts as she tossed a piece of mail onto the bed.
"It's kinda weird. Why would your mail show up at my house?" And with that, she walked out of the room.
I looked down and my eyes grew wide. It was the same envelope that had showed up at my house just yesterday. But something was different, this one had Tiffany's address, but my name. How would someone know I was here? I cautiously opened it and gasped. It was a funeral notice. My grandfather, George Stewart III, had died, and I was needed at the funeral and the will reading that follows.
I stared at the letter in disbelief. My grandfather was dead. I knew he had gotten worse, my mom told me that a few weeks ago, but I had hoped that he would get better, like he always had. She said that he had some sort of new heart problem, and that a minor surgery would fix it. In the back of my mind I hoped that he would make it through, so I did send him a note along with my mom telling him that I loved him and that I know he'll pull through.
My granddad was like an ox. But he was a wise ox. He was strong; physically and mentally. He always told me:
"You are only made weak by those whom love is mutual, but when those who love you weaken you, let your weak heart become stronger. But always remember, you are loved by many, but weakened by few." I had his quote written on my heart in sharpie, hypothetically of course.
He has been in the hospital for a little over a year. Chad and I used to visit him once a week. We would stay and chat about the news and listen as he told us stories of his younger years.
He absolutely loved us. Whenever Chad couldn't make it over there, grandpa always asked how he was. But I never told him that we 'broke up'. It would break his heart! So, I told him that Chad was busy, or on a business trip or something.
He always wanted me, his only granddaughter, to have a loving boyfriend that would someday become my husband. He was going to take my dads place and walk me down the aisle someday. I couldn't believe my mom didn't tell me. I know she's busy and all, but how could this slip her mind?
The letter went on to say that my presence was needed at the will's reading this Wednesday, following the funeral service. 'Hmm... I wonder why? I mean, he didn't leave me anything, did he?' I would assume that he would leave everything to mom.. I guess well have to see on Wednesday.

Before I had known it, it was the day of the funeral, and reading. I walked down to Tiffany's house, since she took my keys. She said I was 'so emotionally corrupt', that I was 'a hazard to all the good driving citizens'. It wasn't a bad walk, just around the block. So as I walked in her house, she gasped.
"Sonny, Are you really wearing that to the funeral?!"
I looked down in dismay at my outfit. I was wearing black skinny slacks and a black button up with a strand of pearls.
"What?"
"You look like.. Well, you look terrible."
Tiffany can sometimes, if not always, be quite blunt and to the point.
"Gee, thanks." I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"So what does the great Tiffany suggest?" I asked
"Ooh! The great Tiffany! I likey!"
Oh, brother.
"Well, come on!" she said enthusiastically as she drug me to her spare room that we converted into a huge closet that is full of clothes.
"Hmmm.. Let's see here.. oooh!" she squealed.
Oh god. I could tell that this was going to get pretty bad on my part.
Tiffany pulled out a black form fitting silk dress that hit me mid thigh. She also pulled out a black three-quarter lenth sleeve cardigan that had ruffles on both sides of the buttons, and black lace tights to top it off.
"I don't know Tiffany…" I trailed off. I had only worn sweats and tees for the past year. I haven't even worn much make up or jewelry.
"Ugh! Sonny, just put it on!" she said as she shut the closet door, leaving me in here to change.
I reluctantly changed into the outfit she picked out for me. I didn't even pause to look in the mirror as I walked out to her bedroom.
Tiffany looked at me and smiled, but didn't say anything. She took my hand and sat me at her makeup counter and went to work. She didn't put a mask of make up in me, as requested. Just the basics; mascara, brown eye liner, and a little lose powder.
"Wait, just a second!" she said, dashing back to the closet.
She returned with a long pearl necklace, and some black pumps. After she finished adorning me with her fashions, she spun me around to look in the mirror.
I was shocked. I looked just like my old self. I had almost forgotten what I had looked like. I was used to seeing me bare and basic, instead of... Beautiful.
"Alright! Let's go!" Tiffany said.
I looked up to see her in a black strapless with a short yellow cardigan and matching yellow tall heels, and her hair in a curly up do, where as mine was just its regular self; noted that Tiffany added some volume and a barrette to it. But none the less, she looked gorgeous, as usual.
"Allison Elizabeth Sonny Munroe! Get your tiny butt out here!" she yelled.
She never liked to be late. Always early. I smiled at the thought. Same old Tiff.

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