Chapter Twenty

Gray and I were sitting in my house as the evening sun bled through the drawn open curtains. We were lounging on comfy floor pillows around my table, staring at the TV. He had brought his pipe. We were sharing a gallon of raspberry tea as we watched a poorly made soap opera about a rich and intelligent, yet naive, young woman whose good looks caused the foil of her character. We had only been watching silent for twenty minutes. I hadn't even responded yet to what he had told me in the fields.

Grandma Williams was dead. But how old was she actually? I felt my eyebrows crease together as I watched the show, not even absorbing the dialogue. If I was doing my math right, she couldn't have been any older than seventy-two. I was growing agitated. Why was she dead? She still had life in her. I lowered my head and drank from my glass of tea.

"How?" I asked with no hesitation. Gray drew his eyes away from the TV for the first time in twenty-two minutes, "How did she die?"

"My grandpa said one of her friend's came to check on her after she didn't show up for book club yesterday afternoon," Gray told me, his eyes looking anywhere but mine. He took his time drinking from his tea and stirring the ice cubes with his straw, "Apparently she was just lying on the kitchen floor. The paramedics told her friend she'd had a stroke, fallen, and succumb to her condition."

"She had no way to call for help?" I was leaned up against the table now with a terrible feeling of dread forming in the pit of my stomach.

"No... lives alone, phone was on the table in the living room..." Gray said and then heaved a sigh, "She shouldn't have been living by herself anymore but who could she turn to? Her ex-husband? No. And who wants to admit they need to move into an assistance home?"

"Poor Grandma Williams," I nearly bemoaned. I accepted the pipe from Gray and together we turned our attention back to the TV. Just as I was about to strike the lighter, there came a knock at my door, "Eep!" I tossed the pipe to Gray, who nearly spilled it. He dumped it into his velvet bag. I raced forward to my entertainment center, threw open the bottom drawer, and spritzed a spring-clean smelling air freshener. Gray turned the TV down as I went to the door, "Hi, Saibara."

He strode in right past me and looked around before turning to Gray, "I knew I'd find you here."

Gray stood up, adjusting the belt on his coveralls.

"Your grandmother's visitation and funeral is coming up in a few days. I've spoken with Zack. I think we should take a boat this evening back across the Channel to be there. Arrangements need to be made," Saibara spoke with no emotion, his hands folded behind his back.

"We're... going back to The City?" Gray was caught off guard.

"We have to bury her, boy. There's no one there to provide her service," Saibara replied, "She's got friends who need to properly come to terms and mourn your grandmother's death, you included," Saibara nodded slowly, "And some of us need to formally say goodbye."

"Claire, will you go with us?" Gray looked to me very suddenly.

"What? Tonight? Back to The City?"

"The boat leaves at six o'clock," Saibara said, "Anybody who is there will be taken. If you'll excuse me," Saibara looked between us and then let himself out. I sat back down at my pillow and stared at my sweaty glass of raspberry tea.

I rubbed my temples, "This is all so crazy..." I felt the flood of emotion, "... just yesterday morning, Gray, she was awake, alive, breathing... and... and by the afternoon she was dead."

"Will you come say goodbye?" Gray asked again, still standing near the door.

"I... I just bought a chicken, I have to water my pumpkin patch," I looked to him.

"There's no one who could do that?" Gray turned his palms outward. He crossed and sat down on the pillow beside me, looping his arms around my waist, "Claire, I need you to go with me. I think we need to say goodbye together. My grandpa is right. We need closure... or, acceptance."

"Ma... maybe I could ask Rick," I said, still feeling very overwhelmed, "He's the closest to a farmer I could get without asking Marlin to hike here every day."

"Will I see you at the dock at six o'clock?" Gray asked, pushing the bill of his cap up.

I looked into his ocean blue eyes and I could see in that moment he needed me. I yearned to stay close, to merge our hurt together and heal. His fingers was gripping into me as if he never wanted to let go. I belonged to him, in that moment, emotionally, I think. I needed to be there for him. And for my own sanity, I had to say goodbye. She had gotten me here, back to him. I needed to pay my respects. She was responsible for these past eight months. She made my life possible again.

"I'll see you at six o'clock," I told him. He kissed me, very suddenly, and then left. I stared at the gallon of tea for a moment, following a drop of condensation. I looked back to the TV show, which had the intelligent woman sitting on a beach, writing about how a new day meant a new opportunity. I turned the TV off and relished in the silence for a few moments.

I walked outside to my farm. The autumn sun was still burning high in the sky with beautiful streaks of pink and orange. I felt very numb as I walked around and evaluated what I was really leaving to Rick. That is, if he was able to help. I sat on my shipping box and slipped my hands between my thighs. In a matter of an hour, I felt flipped upside down. It's like I had been travelling peacefully in a car that, without warning, flipped and sent me out the window.

How could Grandma Williams be dead? It stung, as if I had lost my own grandmother. Well, she was as close as I had ever gotten. I don't remember ever meeting my parent's parent's. Their life before me was shrouded in mystery and unanswered questions. I was convinced my parents had never been children in their lives before me.

A squawking crow drew my eyes upward for a moment, and then back to my field. I sighed and began my walk back to Rick's. I hadn't even been gone three hours. When I entered their farm, they already had the field lights on. They cast a lemony-yellow glare down onto the now vacant fields where the chickens spent their days. Rick was still outside working, though, despite the end of apparent business hours. He was beating a nail into a loose board on his fence. When he heard my boots crunching on the dirt, he paused to greet me.

"Everything okay?" He asked as he crossed and shook my hand.

"Rick, I have to go to The City very unexpectantly. There was... a family death. I need someone to water my pumpkins and let Ramona out to the yard," I told him, feeling absolutely horrid, "Is there any chance you could do it for me? You just need to water the pumpkin patch every morning, and of course, let Ramona in and out of the coop. I'd pay you for your time," I reached to my pocket to whip out the cash Zack had given me from my last shipment.

"I'll do it," Rick said, but refused to accept my money, "Claire, I don't need you to pay me. Your farm is right around the corner. I think I can handle it. With the help of Popuri, we'll get your fields done pronto in the mornings. How long do you expect to be gone?"

"Just a few days, I'm hoping," I said, pushing my bangs aside again, "Like I said, this was all very unexpected."

"Do you mind if I ask-"

"Who died?" I finished for him. He resorted to a simple nod, "I guess she wasn't my family... hah, well she felt like my family. She was actually Gray's grandmother. She passed away very suddenly yesterday afternoon... or maybe it was the morning, I don't know," I shrugged uselessly, "Her name was Fiona Williams and she meant a great deal to me."

"Fiona? Isn't that Saibara's ex-wife?" Rick cast his eyes across the walkway to the gloomy forgery.

"How'd you know?" I asked, blinking very blatantly.

"Believe it or not, but my father and Saibara were actually rather close back in the day. My dad called him 'Colonel' out of respect since my dad also served," Rick crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes still trained towards the blacksmith shop, "Anyway, they both shared a passion for brewed teas, so very often I'd come into the kitchen on a Saturday evening and find Saibara at the table chatting with my dad. I'm not really sure what they talked about all the time... probably artisan things and the military... but I remember a few things slipping about Saibara's ex-wife."

"I'm guessing all bad?"

"Well, one time I overheard my dad complaining about Popuri's bad-streak. As a child, she was notorious for being bull-headed. My mom calls it her 'princess phrase'. Saibara mentioned how his ex-wife, Fiona, was well-known for taking nothing less than her version of best. Apparently they did not agree on much," Rick shrugged.

"They are both great people," I said very slowly, "But they weren't meant to be together."

"So, wait, how do you know all of them?" Rick asked, cocking his eyebrows up now. He adjusted the thin silver framed glasses on the bridge of his nose, "I thought you only just came to Mineral Town?"

"I grew up with Gray in The City," I told him and I could tell he was very surprised, "That's kind of why I came here..."

He seemed to be doing some math olympics in his head before he shook it dismissively, "Maybe when you come back we can talk more over lunch."

"You know, I'd really like that," I said. Rick grinned and gave me a firm business hand shake.

I felt better as I walked back to my house to pack a bag. After I closed my door behind me, I released a large sigh and looked around my studio house. Might as well pack all of it, I figured. I got about to pushing as many T-shirts and jeans into a backpack. I opted for a simple black and white striped dress for the funeral service. I looked around my room last time for any valuables, then left, locking the door behind me.

I stared out over the farm that had become my life the past eight months. I watched the tall silky grass in the back of the field wave in the wind. She had made all of this possible. I would come back. I knew that. I had to return to Mineral Town. This was my life now. I looked over my mounds of dirt that I had high hopes for becoming a pumpkin patch, brightly colorful and with a twisted knot of vines.

I left my farm determined to return and make something magnificent of it. A final dedication to Grandma Williams. A testament on the beauty her life had created. The sun bled behind the mountains, staining the town in a passionate orange. I watched the trees in the distant wave in the rather chilly autumn air. I looked between the buildings. Many villagers were out taking strolls in the pleasant weather. I took in a deep breath, trying desperately to take any of Mineral Town with me that I could. I didn't fancy much to leave. This was my home, I was decided. This was the place I had belonged all along. I paused in the plaza and turned to look back the small village. Small ornate buildings cropped up among the trees and glowed warm in the dropping temperatures.

"The boat is ready," I turned around to see Gray at the top of the stairs for the beach. He was wearing blue jeans and a black T-shirt and had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Streaks of red were beginning to break through his once-ashen hair, "Are you coming?"

I watched the sun sink a little further behind Mother Hill, "Yeah, let's go." I turned and followed down to the boat.