19. Things one cannot understand
For a long time after Hughes' death, Hawkeye refused to visit the gravesite. It wasn't until four months after the funeral, long after she had grown used to keeping a closer watch on the Colonel, that she actually came across Hughes' things.
It wasn't intentional—just one day the gradual shifting of dog-eared papers and fingerprint stained folders marked with odd, circling patterns imprinted by the leaky bottoms of coffee mugs revealed a box of photographs. There were pictures, company ones mostly—and of course there were portraits of Hughes' small and beautiful family. Riza skimmed through them quickly, almost ignoring them until she came upon a photograph of the Colonel holding Hughes' small daughter very gently in his arms. The expression on his face was both curious and heart wrenching—full of wonderment, as if bemused. Riza did not react outwardly, except to sweep the remaining piles of photographs into an empty file folder, shoving it deep within the stack she planned to take home with her.
As it happened, she didn't go home. She almost stopped by the cemetery, but something unseen—perhaps the memory of her commanding officer remarking upon a non-existent rain—stopped her. She took a left turn instead of a right, walked aimlessly for a half-hour. She came to Hughes' front door unthinkingly, and rung the bell; as she awaited the quiet footsteps of Hughes' widow, she fingered the folder in her bag.
Gracia opened the door. Riza looked at her for a long moment, in the secret way or strong women before stepping inside.
Gracia sat Riza down at the kitchen table, smiling. With no preamble, Riza began to speak; "I wonder if it is easier to have had love at all to begin with," she said.
Gracia glanced, as mothers are wont to do, up the stairs.
And this was almost too much; Riza left the folder on the table and fled the house without another word. She walked all over the neighborhood for another few hours, unable to comprehend the sadness within her. Finally, she went home; Hayate met her at the doorway, but did not bark. She made herself a coffee and sat, stroking his head. She had never noticed the hurt until now.