Out Of Nowhere
Part 1 of 2
Author: Megan
Disclaimer: All things 'Once and Again' belong to the creators of the show. I think.
Feedback: Yes, please: shy_grrl@hotmail.com
Archive: www.realmoftheshadow.com/megan.htm and www.jessiekatie.com
Summary: Karen is dead, and Jessie's hurting. Sequel to 'Watching Little Birds Fly'.
Author's Notes: A short attempt to describe Jessie's feelings, in the aftermath of her mother's death. Emphasis on short. I won't dwell on this too long. Timeline is... after 'Gardenia'. Though, I guess it doesn't matter anymore. This world is quite different from the real 'OandA' world.
***
Weird, how the world grows so small sometimes. My room is it now. The whole world. And nothing happens in it, without me knowing. I can just lie in my bed, and still keep watch over everything. It's a great feeling. When nothing can surprise me. I'm safe here. In my own world.
People sometimes try to bring me news from the outside, but I don't listen to them. I let them talk, all right, cause that's the easiest way to please them. But I don't listen. Not really.
People... there are so many of them. There's Eli. And dad. Lily, Grace and Zoe. None of them can really understand, how much I lost, when I lost mom. Grace tries to show compassion by flipping between concerned, and casual. She cares, but she's so afraid of hurting me more, that she doesn't even dare to try help. Lily is all about nurturing. Bringing me food and stuff. Asking me, if I'm all right, every ten seconds. I could really live without it. And dad... he's just so dense. Sits by me the longest times, and can't really say, or do, a single useful thing. I love him too much, to drive him away, though. Even when I would want to. And it is sort of comforting, to see that he's hurting too. That he still loved mom in a way.
Eli's pain is most like mine. And I crave for his company the most. He doesn't come often, but when he does, I almost feel happy. Almost, because I can feel his love. I can't feel anyone else's. I can see his hurt. He lost his mother too, and blames himself for it. Just like me. Only not to the same extent. He blames himself for fighting with her, and for not being nicer to her. I blame myself for the actual death.
And then there's Katie.
"Hey," she says, quietly entering my world.
I stare at her through my tearstained eyes. Katie's like a miracle. Came into my life at the exact right moment. Instantaneously, changed everything for the better. But in the long run, still wasn't enough.
She doesn't say anything more. Just walks deeper into the room, and looks around. I follow her with my eyes, trying not to blink. If I looked away, the roof would probably collapse on her. She makes her way to my table, and picks up a framed photograph. Smiles at it distantly, and then sets it back down.
"You can look away," she says, glancing at me under her brow, "I won't steal anything."
"I can't look away," I whisper, and lift my feet up on the bed, next to me.
"Am I that hot?" she grins barely noticeably.
"Don't make jokes," I state, shaking my head quickly. No one's allowed to make jokes in my world. Rule number one, laughing is prohibited. If my mom is dead, then no one has any business laughing.
"Sorry," she mumbles.
The grin disappears in a heartbeat. And I find, that I miss it. For, like a second. Then I don't care anymore. Katie turns away from me again, and picks up a stack of other photographs from beside the framed one. They're all pictures of my mother. She turns back towards me, and leans down on the desk. She doesn't look at the photos, but instead at me. Our eyes lock together. Like so many times before.
And I remember the first time I saw her. Bouncing around like a hyperactive monkey-girl, clinging onto Tad. So full of life. Excited about everything. And now she just looks sad. All because of me. I shouldn't have dragged her into my world. Where everything is so hard. I should just let her go.
"You don't have to stay," I tell her.
She frowns back, confused, "What?"
I just meant to glance at her that day. A quick peek at Tad's weird friend, and then move onto more important things. But somehow, I couldn't look away. And the glance turned into a stare. I still haven't stopped staring at her.
"Now's your chance, Katie," I say, "Just walk away, and don't look back," I shake my head once. For effect.
"What are you talking about, Jessie?" she says. Getting a little anxious. She pushes herself up from the table, and takes a few steps my way.
Some people, I can't figure out, no matter, how long I study them. Katie is like that. And I knew it right from the start. She acted all ditzy, and uncaring. But she sounded honest, and looked kind. I guess, I fell in love with her right then and there. I just didn't see it, cause I tried to convey those emotions towards Tad. And that just went... wrong.
"Leave," I say harshly, "You don't need this. You're sixteen! Go! Live!" I try to get through to her, pressing the words hard. It won't work, cause she loves me so much.
She walks up to the bed, and sits down next to me. Fresh tears start to blur my vision, "Silly girl," she says. Placing a hand on my neck, she starts to play with my hair. Like so many times before.
"I'm only making you miserable," I whimper.
She smiles so sweetly, I don't have the heart to protest. Her other hand reaches out too, and she places it on my cheek. And she pushes her forehead against mine. And I'm still staring at her, "I'd rather be miserable with you, than happy without," she says.
I close my eyes, and fight back the urge throw my arms around her, "That doesn't even make any sense," I cry silently.
"It does to me," she replies just as quietly. And moves her head onto my shoulder, and her hands around my back. She pulls me into a hug.
I hold onto her, cause it's the only thing I can do, "She's gone, Katie," I whisper, and bury my head into her hair.
"I know," she says.
I cry on her shoulder the longest time. And she doesn't mind. Just keeps smoothly drawing circles on my cheek with her finger. And whispering soothing voices into my ear. Minutes go by, and nothing changes. I feel just as bad. And she feels just as good against my body. I pull back enough to see her face. She looks at me desperately. I'm a mess, a wet, sobbing mess. Scary enough to drive away bravest of men. But not her. She just looks at me. Longingly.
I don't think she's ever looked better. She always looks great, but not like this. It's hard to keep my hands away from her. And I don't see, why I should. I breathe in quickly, and assault her mouth with mine. She's too surprised to pull back at first, and then she doesn't even want to anymore. I push my tongue into her mouth, hungry to taste more. She responds with the same enthusiasm, and her hands start to roam down my face. Onto my shoulders. She gently pushes me down on my back, and lies on top of me herself. I take hold of her wrist, and start to guide the hand even lower down my body.
And suddenly, she jerks her head up, and ends the kiss, "Jessie..." she pants out my name, "Not like this," she says. And looks at me. Pitifully.
"You don't want this," I say. It comes out somewhere between a question and a statement.
"No, you don't want this," she says, and shakes her head.
She tries to pull further away from me, but I refuse to let go, "I do," I plead to her. Even though, I don't like her pitiful eyes.
"No, Jessie," she says sternly, and removes my hands from her body, "Your mother wouldn't want it."
What? "WHAT?!" I scream. I push her with all my strength, managing to tilt her off my body, and making her fall down on the floor, "What did you say?!" I sit up, and move on the edge of the bed, to glare down on her.
"Jessie..." she looks up at me, a little scared.
"You don't get to say, what my mother would've wanted!"
"I didn't mean..."
"Get out!" I interrupt her quickly, before she starts reasoning. I've had enough. I'm the only one, who knew what my mother wanted! The only one, who knew her!
She struggles up on her feet, and keeps looking at me. Still pitifully. It's getting even more on my nerves. I don't need pity! It's useless, "I'm sorry... I just didn't want anything to happen, and..." she starts talking. And isn't moving away.
"Leave. Now," I say more quietly, but no less hatefully.
She nods slowly, and turns to go. I look after her. As long as she's in my world, I have to make sure, she's okay. Even, when I hate her. At the stairs, she turns and looks at me once more. Apologetically, "I'm sorry," she says. I don't forgive her, and she leaves.
***
Sunday is burial day. The day for goodbyes. I don't wanna leave my world, and they can't bury her here. It's a problem. Not so much to me, but to them. To the people. I don't mind skipping the funeral. It's just a pointless ceremony. She's gone already, and it doesn't matter, when I let go of her memory. I'm sure it'll be gone soon enough.
Dad's here. Insisting, that I go, "You'll regret it, if you don't come," he says. I've heard the same words a million times, in a million different tv shows, "You know, when my dad died, I thought about not going to his funeral," he talks in his annoyingly understanding voice. It disgusts me beyond reason, right now, "But later... I... I was really glad that I went."
I'm lying on the bed, leaning my back on the headboard. And dad's sitting close by. Glancing at me every once and awhile, "Dad..." I say to him.
"No, hear me out, Jessie," he rudely interrupts me. And takes another short peek my way. I'm tempted to remove my eyes from him, and leave him to survive on his own. But I can't quit on people, just because I'm mad at them, "You need to get closure, Jessie," dad says, and nods his head.
Closure. Whoever came up with that pathetic concept, should be shot on sight. I can just picture people giving me this same piece of shit advice, all through my life. Whenever anything bad happens, just get closure. That helps. Right. What's wrong with wallowing in things?
"No, I don't, dad," I say quietly.
He turns away for a second, and then, armed with new reasons, looks back, "Well, don't you wanna pay your respects to her?"
Ouch! "You're gona guilt me into going?" I ask dubiously.
And like the gutless dad he is, he backs down, "No! Of course not," he assures me, "You don't have to come, if you really don't want to," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder, and rubbing it gently.
"Right," I irately state, "So, why are you still bugging me about it?"
"Because, I think it would be good for you," he nods his head once. I keep my mouth shut for a change. He's right. Not about the 'good for me' part, but that I owe it to my mom to go to the funeral. The mere thought of her stings in my heart, and I can tell, I'll be crying again soon. And I want him out of here first, "There's also going to be a wake at your mom's house, after the funeral. People are going to wonder..."
"Fine, already!" I almost scream at him, "I'll come."
Dad startles back slightly, and takes away his hand. He stares at me quietly for a few seconds, "Jessie, you don't have to come..."
"I'll come," I repeat, and cross my arms over my chest, "What time?"
"We leave in an hour," he says.
There's a curious look in his eyes. He's not sure, what to make of my quick change of heart. If it's a good thing, or not. But he lets it pass, cause he doesn't know what else to do. That's the thing with dad. He can be very smart in a lot of ways, but when it comes to people, he's just plain stupid. And he doesn't have a clue on how to communicate.
"Okay. I gotta get ready, then," I say, swallowing back down the first sobs, that almost make it up my throat.
Dad nods his head, smiles, and gives my knee a weak nudge, before getting up, and leaving my room. His head is the last thing to disappear down the stairs, and when it's gone, I let the tears come. I crawl down the bed, and turn my back on the outside world. For a short while still, I'm safe here. And I can cry alone.
***
Eli's next in line. He comes up, when I'm almost out of time. No doubt, dad sent him to check up on me. I'm sitting at my table, dressed in my blackest skirt, and my blackest turtleneck sweater. Fixing my hair in front of the mirror. He sneaks up, and scares me a bit, when his figure suddenly appears in the mirror, next to me. Decked in black, him too.
"Hey," he says, and waves his hand.
I smile, "Hey, you," and greet him, way too enthusiastically. I give my hair one last sweep, and then set the brush down on the desk. Eli remains standing there, a good distance away. He smiles a little nervously back at me, "Am I late?" I ask, when he doesn't talk.
Eli shakes his head once, "Nah," he mutters, "You've got plenty of time. I thought, we could take... mom's car. Just us," pain flashes across his face, when he thinks about her. But he recovers himself quickly, and smiles again, more earnestly this time, "That way, we'll have a getaway car, if you wanna flee the scene at any time."
I love him so much now. There aren't even words for it. The connection we share now, is so much deeper. It's the one good thing to come out of her death. We have this huge tie that binds us together. We're the only ones, who know, what it felt like to be loved by her. And we're the only ones, who really lost anything. In a few weeks, the Mannings, dad along with them, won't even remember her anymore. Their lives will be exactly like before. Only mine and Eli's have changed.
Thank God, I have him to share the memories with. Years from now, he'll still be here. As living proof, that I didn't just dream up my mother. Cause, without him, I might as well have. No one would know the difference. No one could say, 'Hey, I knew her too'.
"Sounds good," I say, and pick up a silvery necklace from the desk. It has a small crucifix attached to it, "Can you help me with this, Eli?" I ask, looking expectantly at him through the mirror, and holding the chain around my neck.
"Sure," he hesitates a second, and then walks closer, "I didn't know, you wore a cross," he says, and fastens the lock with steady fingers.
"I don't. Usually," I reply. Our eyes meet in the mirror again, and he smiles. He is so great. He knows exactly how to be around me. He shows his own pain, but isn't overwhelmed by it. He shows he cares about me, but doesn't force his advice, when it's not wanted. And most importantly, deep down, he's still the same Eli, I've known all my life, "I just thought, the occasion called for it."
"Yeah," he mutters, and takes a step back. He spots the photographs of mom, and smiles again. There's the framed one, and lots of others sprawled all over the desk, "Where'd you get those?" he asks.
"Dad brought them over the other day. There's a whole box of them there," I say and nod towards the far corner of the room, "They were mom's. I'm sorting out the ones, that have her in them."
Eli keeps smiling, and picks up the framed one, "God, she looks so happy!" he sounds surprised. And I know what he means. It was years ago, when she was that happy the last time, "And look how tiny you are," he says, and holds out the photo for me to see.
I turn and look at it. And smile. It has mom, sitting on a couch, cradling a newborn baby in her arms, "It's actually you," I tell him.
"It is?" Eli frowns, and takes another glance at the picture, "How can you tell?"
Because I was never that ugly, I almost say. But joking isn't easy, not even with Eli. I can smile at his cute remarks, but I can't make my own. It feels wrong.
I'm just getting around to telling him about the date in the back, when Katie's voice interrupts me, "Jessie?" it comes from the foot of the stairs, "Can I come up?"
I turn even further around, to look in the general direction of the voice. And then glance at my brother. He shrugs his shoulders, and whispers, "I told her about the funeral yesterday."
"What?" I frown, and talk as quietly, "Why?"
"Jessie?!" Katie yells, a little louder this time.
"It came up in a conversation," Eli shakes his head.
"What conversation?" I ask anxiously. Why would Katie and Eli have a conversation? Where the Hell would they even meet?
"I let her in, when she came to see you," he says and furrows his brow, "What does it even matter? You spend every waking minute with her anyway, so why shouldn't she..."
"Hi," Katie chirps from the top of the stairs. We both turn to look at her, "I called, but I guess you didn't hear me..." her voice drifts off.
I just stare at her quietly for a few moments, and then shake myself to full alert, "Yeah... I..I heard. Hi," I say.
An uncomfortable silence falls into the room. I'm reminded of my... inappropriate behavior yesterday. And it makes me blush. Here's a girl, who time after time, bends over backwards to help me, no matter how hard it is. And I repay her, first by sexually assaulting her, and then by throwing her out of my room. All because she did the right thing, and turned down my advances.
Katie takes the silence for almost half a minute, before it gets to her. Her eyes flip between me and Eli, and she takes a small step backwards, "I'm sorry. I'll go," she says.
"Don't," Eli stops her. He glances at me, "I should go tell dad, we're taking mom's car," he says.
I nod once, and watch, how he walks past Katie, and disappears down the stairs. Katie looks after him for a second, and then turns her attention back to me. She takes a few steps further into the room.
"I'll leave, if you want me to," she says with the most honest face. She isn't hiding anything. Katie never hides things from me. She never lies to me, "But I'd really like to come to the funeral with you."
"I don't want you to leave," I answer quietly, with a small smile.
The thing about Katie is, that she's mine. And mine alone. No one else has any claim on her. Well, maybe her family does, but I don't care about them. In this world, she's all mine. I can't even imagine, where I'd be, if she hadn't come into my life. From out of nowhere. Between her and Eli, I think I have enough of a chance to survive this. At least, right this moment, it feels like I do. I'm on my way to bury my mother, and I don't feel hopeless. That's what matters.
Katie smiles back, when I stand up, and head her way, "Can I bum a ride with you and Eli?" she asks.
I take hold of her hand, and we start to descend the stairs, "Sure. But I call shotgun."
I lead the way, two steps ahead of her, and so I don't see her face. But I can picture her grin, "Damn," she mutters quietly, and makes me smile again.
Funny, how quickly my moods change. An hour ago, I'd rather have had my eyes gouged out, than leave my room. And now, when I take the last step through the doorway, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted of my back.
And it's weird, how the world can sometimes seem so enormous.
tbc
Part 1 of 2
Author: Megan
Disclaimer: All things 'Once and Again' belong to the creators of the show. I think.
Feedback: Yes, please: shy_grrl@hotmail.com
Archive: www.realmoftheshadow.com/megan.htm and www.jessiekatie.com
Summary: Karen is dead, and Jessie's hurting. Sequel to 'Watching Little Birds Fly'.
Author's Notes: A short attempt to describe Jessie's feelings, in the aftermath of her mother's death. Emphasis on short. I won't dwell on this too long. Timeline is... after 'Gardenia'. Though, I guess it doesn't matter anymore. This world is quite different from the real 'OandA' world.
***
Weird, how the world grows so small sometimes. My room is it now. The whole world. And nothing happens in it, without me knowing. I can just lie in my bed, and still keep watch over everything. It's a great feeling. When nothing can surprise me. I'm safe here. In my own world.
People sometimes try to bring me news from the outside, but I don't listen to them. I let them talk, all right, cause that's the easiest way to please them. But I don't listen. Not really.
People... there are so many of them. There's Eli. And dad. Lily, Grace and Zoe. None of them can really understand, how much I lost, when I lost mom. Grace tries to show compassion by flipping between concerned, and casual. She cares, but she's so afraid of hurting me more, that she doesn't even dare to try help. Lily is all about nurturing. Bringing me food and stuff. Asking me, if I'm all right, every ten seconds. I could really live without it. And dad... he's just so dense. Sits by me the longest times, and can't really say, or do, a single useful thing. I love him too much, to drive him away, though. Even when I would want to. And it is sort of comforting, to see that he's hurting too. That he still loved mom in a way.
Eli's pain is most like mine. And I crave for his company the most. He doesn't come often, but when he does, I almost feel happy. Almost, because I can feel his love. I can't feel anyone else's. I can see his hurt. He lost his mother too, and blames himself for it. Just like me. Only not to the same extent. He blames himself for fighting with her, and for not being nicer to her. I blame myself for the actual death.
And then there's Katie.
"Hey," she says, quietly entering my world.
I stare at her through my tearstained eyes. Katie's like a miracle. Came into my life at the exact right moment. Instantaneously, changed everything for the better. But in the long run, still wasn't enough.
She doesn't say anything more. Just walks deeper into the room, and looks around. I follow her with my eyes, trying not to blink. If I looked away, the roof would probably collapse on her. She makes her way to my table, and picks up a framed photograph. Smiles at it distantly, and then sets it back down.
"You can look away," she says, glancing at me under her brow, "I won't steal anything."
"I can't look away," I whisper, and lift my feet up on the bed, next to me.
"Am I that hot?" she grins barely noticeably.
"Don't make jokes," I state, shaking my head quickly. No one's allowed to make jokes in my world. Rule number one, laughing is prohibited. If my mom is dead, then no one has any business laughing.
"Sorry," she mumbles.
The grin disappears in a heartbeat. And I find, that I miss it. For, like a second. Then I don't care anymore. Katie turns away from me again, and picks up a stack of other photographs from beside the framed one. They're all pictures of my mother. She turns back towards me, and leans down on the desk. She doesn't look at the photos, but instead at me. Our eyes lock together. Like so many times before.
And I remember the first time I saw her. Bouncing around like a hyperactive monkey-girl, clinging onto Tad. So full of life. Excited about everything. And now she just looks sad. All because of me. I shouldn't have dragged her into my world. Where everything is so hard. I should just let her go.
"You don't have to stay," I tell her.
She frowns back, confused, "What?"
I just meant to glance at her that day. A quick peek at Tad's weird friend, and then move onto more important things. But somehow, I couldn't look away. And the glance turned into a stare. I still haven't stopped staring at her.
"Now's your chance, Katie," I say, "Just walk away, and don't look back," I shake my head once. For effect.
"What are you talking about, Jessie?" she says. Getting a little anxious. She pushes herself up from the table, and takes a few steps my way.
Some people, I can't figure out, no matter, how long I study them. Katie is like that. And I knew it right from the start. She acted all ditzy, and uncaring. But she sounded honest, and looked kind. I guess, I fell in love with her right then and there. I just didn't see it, cause I tried to convey those emotions towards Tad. And that just went... wrong.
"Leave," I say harshly, "You don't need this. You're sixteen! Go! Live!" I try to get through to her, pressing the words hard. It won't work, cause she loves me so much.
She walks up to the bed, and sits down next to me. Fresh tears start to blur my vision, "Silly girl," she says. Placing a hand on my neck, she starts to play with my hair. Like so many times before.
"I'm only making you miserable," I whimper.
She smiles so sweetly, I don't have the heart to protest. Her other hand reaches out too, and she places it on my cheek. And she pushes her forehead against mine. And I'm still staring at her, "I'd rather be miserable with you, than happy without," she says.
I close my eyes, and fight back the urge throw my arms around her, "That doesn't even make any sense," I cry silently.
"It does to me," she replies just as quietly. And moves her head onto my shoulder, and her hands around my back. She pulls me into a hug.
I hold onto her, cause it's the only thing I can do, "She's gone, Katie," I whisper, and bury my head into her hair.
"I know," she says.
I cry on her shoulder the longest time. And she doesn't mind. Just keeps smoothly drawing circles on my cheek with her finger. And whispering soothing voices into my ear. Minutes go by, and nothing changes. I feel just as bad. And she feels just as good against my body. I pull back enough to see her face. She looks at me desperately. I'm a mess, a wet, sobbing mess. Scary enough to drive away bravest of men. But not her. She just looks at me. Longingly.
I don't think she's ever looked better. She always looks great, but not like this. It's hard to keep my hands away from her. And I don't see, why I should. I breathe in quickly, and assault her mouth with mine. She's too surprised to pull back at first, and then she doesn't even want to anymore. I push my tongue into her mouth, hungry to taste more. She responds with the same enthusiasm, and her hands start to roam down my face. Onto my shoulders. She gently pushes me down on my back, and lies on top of me herself. I take hold of her wrist, and start to guide the hand even lower down my body.
And suddenly, she jerks her head up, and ends the kiss, "Jessie..." she pants out my name, "Not like this," she says. And looks at me. Pitifully.
"You don't want this," I say. It comes out somewhere between a question and a statement.
"No, you don't want this," she says, and shakes her head.
She tries to pull further away from me, but I refuse to let go, "I do," I plead to her. Even though, I don't like her pitiful eyes.
"No, Jessie," she says sternly, and removes my hands from her body, "Your mother wouldn't want it."
What? "WHAT?!" I scream. I push her with all my strength, managing to tilt her off my body, and making her fall down on the floor, "What did you say?!" I sit up, and move on the edge of the bed, to glare down on her.
"Jessie..." she looks up at me, a little scared.
"You don't get to say, what my mother would've wanted!"
"I didn't mean..."
"Get out!" I interrupt her quickly, before she starts reasoning. I've had enough. I'm the only one, who knew what my mother wanted! The only one, who knew her!
She struggles up on her feet, and keeps looking at me. Still pitifully. It's getting even more on my nerves. I don't need pity! It's useless, "I'm sorry... I just didn't want anything to happen, and..." she starts talking. And isn't moving away.
"Leave. Now," I say more quietly, but no less hatefully.
She nods slowly, and turns to go. I look after her. As long as she's in my world, I have to make sure, she's okay. Even, when I hate her. At the stairs, she turns and looks at me once more. Apologetically, "I'm sorry," she says. I don't forgive her, and she leaves.
***
Sunday is burial day. The day for goodbyes. I don't wanna leave my world, and they can't bury her here. It's a problem. Not so much to me, but to them. To the people. I don't mind skipping the funeral. It's just a pointless ceremony. She's gone already, and it doesn't matter, when I let go of her memory. I'm sure it'll be gone soon enough.
Dad's here. Insisting, that I go, "You'll regret it, if you don't come," he says. I've heard the same words a million times, in a million different tv shows, "You know, when my dad died, I thought about not going to his funeral," he talks in his annoyingly understanding voice. It disgusts me beyond reason, right now, "But later... I... I was really glad that I went."
I'm lying on the bed, leaning my back on the headboard. And dad's sitting close by. Glancing at me every once and awhile, "Dad..." I say to him.
"No, hear me out, Jessie," he rudely interrupts me. And takes another short peek my way. I'm tempted to remove my eyes from him, and leave him to survive on his own. But I can't quit on people, just because I'm mad at them, "You need to get closure, Jessie," dad says, and nods his head.
Closure. Whoever came up with that pathetic concept, should be shot on sight. I can just picture people giving me this same piece of shit advice, all through my life. Whenever anything bad happens, just get closure. That helps. Right. What's wrong with wallowing in things?
"No, I don't, dad," I say quietly.
He turns away for a second, and then, armed with new reasons, looks back, "Well, don't you wanna pay your respects to her?"
Ouch! "You're gona guilt me into going?" I ask dubiously.
And like the gutless dad he is, he backs down, "No! Of course not," he assures me, "You don't have to come, if you really don't want to," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder, and rubbing it gently.
"Right," I irately state, "So, why are you still bugging me about it?"
"Because, I think it would be good for you," he nods his head once. I keep my mouth shut for a change. He's right. Not about the 'good for me' part, but that I owe it to my mom to go to the funeral. The mere thought of her stings in my heart, and I can tell, I'll be crying again soon. And I want him out of here first, "There's also going to be a wake at your mom's house, after the funeral. People are going to wonder..."
"Fine, already!" I almost scream at him, "I'll come."
Dad startles back slightly, and takes away his hand. He stares at me quietly for a few seconds, "Jessie, you don't have to come..."
"I'll come," I repeat, and cross my arms over my chest, "What time?"
"We leave in an hour," he says.
There's a curious look in his eyes. He's not sure, what to make of my quick change of heart. If it's a good thing, or not. But he lets it pass, cause he doesn't know what else to do. That's the thing with dad. He can be very smart in a lot of ways, but when it comes to people, he's just plain stupid. And he doesn't have a clue on how to communicate.
"Okay. I gotta get ready, then," I say, swallowing back down the first sobs, that almost make it up my throat.
Dad nods his head, smiles, and gives my knee a weak nudge, before getting up, and leaving my room. His head is the last thing to disappear down the stairs, and when it's gone, I let the tears come. I crawl down the bed, and turn my back on the outside world. For a short while still, I'm safe here. And I can cry alone.
***
Eli's next in line. He comes up, when I'm almost out of time. No doubt, dad sent him to check up on me. I'm sitting at my table, dressed in my blackest skirt, and my blackest turtleneck sweater. Fixing my hair in front of the mirror. He sneaks up, and scares me a bit, when his figure suddenly appears in the mirror, next to me. Decked in black, him too.
"Hey," he says, and waves his hand.
I smile, "Hey, you," and greet him, way too enthusiastically. I give my hair one last sweep, and then set the brush down on the desk. Eli remains standing there, a good distance away. He smiles a little nervously back at me, "Am I late?" I ask, when he doesn't talk.
Eli shakes his head once, "Nah," he mutters, "You've got plenty of time. I thought, we could take... mom's car. Just us," pain flashes across his face, when he thinks about her. But he recovers himself quickly, and smiles again, more earnestly this time, "That way, we'll have a getaway car, if you wanna flee the scene at any time."
I love him so much now. There aren't even words for it. The connection we share now, is so much deeper. It's the one good thing to come out of her death. We have this huge tie that binds us together. We're the only ones, who know, what it felt like to be loved by her. And we're the only ones, who really lost anything. In a few weeks, the Mannings, dad along with them, won't even remember her anymore. Their lives will be exactly like before. Only mine and Eli's have changed.
Thank God, I have him to share the memories with. Years from now, he'll still be here. As living proof, that I didn't just dream up my mother. Cause, without him, I might as well have. No one would know the difference. No one could say, 'Hey, I knew her too'.
"Sounds good," I say, and pick up a silvery necklace from the desk. It has a small crucifix attached to it, "Can you help me with this, Eli?" I ask, looking expectantly at him through the mirror, and holding the chain around my neck.
"Sure," he hesitates a second, and then walks closer, "I didn't know, you wore a cross," he says, and fastens the lock with steady fingers.
"I don't. Usually," I reply. Our eyes meet in the mirror again, and he smiles. He is so great. He knows exactly how to be around me. He shows his own pain, but isn't overwhelmed by it. He shows he cares about me, but doesn't force his advice, when it's not wanted. And most importantly, deep down, he's still the same Eli, I've known all my life, "I just thought, the occasion called for it."
"Yeah," he mutters, and takes a step back. He spots the photographs of mom, and smiles again. There's the framed one, and lots of others sprawled all over the desk, "Where'd you get those?" he asks.
"Dad brought them over the other day. There's a whole box of them there," I say and nod towards the far corner of the room, "They were mom's. I'm sorting out the ones, that have her in them."
Eli keeps smiling, and picks up the framed one, "God, she looks so happy!" he sounds surprised. And I know what he means. It was years ago, when she was that happy the last time, "And look how tiny you are," he says, and holds out the photo for me to see.
I turn and look at it. And smile. It has mom, sitting on a couch, cradling a newborn baby in her arms, "It's actually you," I tell him.
"It is?" Eli frowns, and takes another glance at the picture, "How can you tell?"
Because I was never that ugly, I almost say. But joking isn't easy, not even with Eli. I can smile at his cute remarks, but I can't make my own. It feels wrong.
I'm just getting around to telling him about the date in the back, when Katie's voice interrupts me, "Jessie?" it comes from the foot of the stairs, "Can I come up?"
I turn even further around, to look in the general direction of the voice. And then glance at my brother. He shrugs his shoulders, and whispers, "I told her about the funeral yesterday."
"What?" I frown, and talk as quietly, "Why?"
"Jessie?!" Katie yells, a little louder this time.
"It came up in a conversation," Eli shakes his head.
"What conversation?" I ask anxiously. Why would Katie and Eli have a conversation? Where the Hell would they even meet?
"I let her in, when she came to see you," he says and furrows his brow, "What does it even matter? You spend every waking minute with her anyway, so why shouldn't she..."
"Hi," Katie chirps from the top of the stairs. We both turn to look at her, "I called, but I guess you didn't hear me..." her voice drifts off.
I just stare at her quietly for a few moments, and then shake myself to full alert, "Yeah... I..I heard. Hi," I say.
An uncomfortable silence falls into the room. I'm reminded of my... inappropriate behavior yesterday. And it makes me blush. Here's a girl, who time after time, bends over backwards to help me, no matter how hard it is. And I repay her, first by sexually assaulting her, and then by throwing her out of my room. All because she did the right thing, and turned down my advances.
Katie takes the silence for almost half a minute, before it gets to her. Her eyes flip between me and Eli, and she takes a small step backwards, "I'm sorry. I'll go," she says.
"Don't," Eli stops her. He glances at me, "I should go tell dad, we're taking mom's car," he says.
I nod once, and watch, how he walks past Katie, and disappears down the stairs. Katie looks after him for a second, and then turns her attention back to me. She takes a few steps further into the room.
"I'll leave, if you want me to," she says with the most honest face. She isn't hiding anything. Katie never hides things from me. She never lies to me, "But I'd really like to come to the funeral with you."
"I don't want you to leave," I answer quietly, with a small smile.
The thing about Katie is, that she's mine. And mine alone. No one else has any claim on her. Well, maybe her family does, but I don't care about them. In this world, she's all mine. I can't even imagine, where I'd be, if she hadn't come into my life. From out of nowhere. Between her and Eli, I think I have enough of a chance to survive this. At least, right this moment, it feels like I do. I'm on my way to bury my mother, and I don't feel hopeless. That's what matters.
Katie smiles back, when I stand up, and head her way, "Can I bum a ride with you and Eli?" she asks.
I take hold of her hand, and we start to descend the stairs, "Sure. But I call shotgun."
I lead the way, two steps ahead of her, and so I don't see her face. But I can picture her grin, "Damn," she mutters quietly, and makes me smile again.
Funny, how quickly my moods change. An hour ago, I'd rather have had my eyes gouged out, than leave my room. And now, when I take the last step through the doorway, it feels like a huge weight has been lifted of my back.
And it's weird, how the world can sometimes seem so enormous.
tbc