Disclaimer: I own nothing.
––
"Mom?" Carol shook her. "Mom? Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom Mom, Mom Mom, Mom. Mom!"
Beth and Hershel ran upstairs at the sound of Carol's voice, Beth saw her shaking their mother so hard, and they saw how limp Annette was. Hershel just watched, unable to move for one entire minute, but Beth couldn't break down. She had to keep it together, because Carol and Daddy had lost it.
"Mom! We—we need to call 911! Dad, get the phone!" She shook Annette violently. "Mom!"
"Carol!" Beth grabbed her arms. "Carol, stop it! Stop, let her go!"
"No!" Her eyes were wide. "NO!"
"Shh, shh." Beth held her, feeling her eyes burn as she looked at their mother. "Shh."
Hershel found she was cold to the touch, and he began to administrate C.P.R., but he knew in his heart it wasn't going to do anything. He had to try. He had to. He wasn't giving up on her.
Patricia had entered the house as she heard the screaming, and she saw what had caused it. She covered her mouth with her hands, and she backed out of the room. She called 911 and explained to them the situation, and she demanded they hurry. There had to be time. There had to be.
About fifteen minutes later, two men rushed upstairs to try and get Annette to breath, Hershel explained her health—how, yes, it was declining, but it had been improving recently—and Beth held Carol, trying to calm her. It wasn't working—both calming Carol and trying to get Annette to breathe.
I'm getting no pulse. How long has she been like this? I—I don't know. I thought she was sleeping. So, she hasn't been conscious. Not since last night. Is she your wife? Yes. And their mother.
...
Softly: She's cold... Call it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but I have to tell you...your wife is dead.
No! No!
Shh, Carol, please shh. I'm here. Shh.
I am so sorry. It appears she did die a good while before you found her. There's nothing you could've done. What—? I'm gonna call it in, and the coroner's office will be by and take her in and they'll determine the cause of death conclusively. It may take a while for them to get here, so may I suggest sitting down and having a glass of water. Try not to disturb the body. Again, I am very sorry for your loss. Thank you, sir.
Patricia, who still held the phone, called Maggie and Dale and Jacqui and Daryl to let them know what happened right after the coroner had come and taken Annette's body. She didn't want them to see their mother like that, and she wished Beth and Carol hadn't seen her like that. She couldn't a hold of Shawn, so she just left him a message to come by when he could.
Hershel just sat in the living room, not moving or blinking, and Carol cried loudly in Beth's arms, and Beth tried to comfort her, but it wasn't still working. Patricia knew Beth was being strong for Carol, but it wasn't going to last long. Beth's eyes filled with more tears as Carol sobbed, and even Patricia herself was no longer able to keep it together.
Less than half an hour later, Daryl arrived. He'd left Sophia with Amy and race here. He ran upstairs to find Carol on the floor, her entire body shaking, her hands gripping Beth so tightly, and he fell to his knees beside her. He took her in his arms, and he held her close, rubbing her back and chewing on his bottom lip so hard, he tasted blood so soon. His eyes were still burning. Annette was a great woman, and now she was gone? She was gone while assholes like his dad were still alive. How?
Beth ran out of the room and right into Maggie, and she looked into her sister's eyes and fell apart. The truth hit Maggie, and at the same time, they both just broke down into tears. She wrapped her arms around Maggie, and they collapsed together on the floor. They held onto each other, sobbing deeply at the loss of their mother, and they refused to let the other go. They were mourning the loss of a mother, not a stepmother. Annette was never a stepmother; she had raised them and loved them as Jo had, and to lose their mother twice was...unbearable. She was their mother. How did this happen? It was Annette. She was getting better every day, so why did she die? How? She was getting stronger and healthier. All of her doctors said that every time they finished an appointment. How did this happen?
Her mother was a strong woman, both physically and emotionally strong. She was the type of woman who survived no matter what. She was so brave and kind and selfless. She rarely got tired of hearing the same stories, the same jokes, over and over. She would just smile and laugh for the sake of the teller. She had the type of smile that just made you smile back. She tried her best to never let anyone down. She always fought for what she knew was right. That's who Annette was. That's who she raised her children to be.
Carol curled up in Daryl's strong arms. Her heart was breaking with every second she realized her mom was gone. She was never coming back. Twenty-five years of having a mother to scold her, praise her, love her, hold her, yell at her, and just be there for her...and that was it. All she had now were her memories. That's all they'll ever be: memories. She will never see her mom's smile in real time. She'll never hear her laugh or see her glare. It was all gone. She had vanished in the night.
It felt as if there was whole inside of her chest, leaking out this endless icy wave of pain that slowly filled her body. It wasn't numbing her, it was waking her up to the reality of what just happened. Her morning wasn't going to end with saying goodbye to her mother; she would never be able to say goodbye to her mother again. It didn't make sense, any of it. Death was with them every single day, she knew, but how did it creep in this house and claim her mother? It wasn't her time. It couldn't be her time. She still had so many things to do. So many, many things to do...
She wanted to throw up and cry and throw up some more. She wanted to hit something until everything felt all right. She wanted to hit someone! She wanted to hit them until they felt as bad as she did! But no, no one should ever have to feel this. God, she wanted someone to come up and tell her to wake the hell up right now, because she was just having a bad dream, but she wasn't. This was real. This was her life, and her mother was no longer apart of it. Her mother had departed sometime last night without even saying goodbye. She just left them there all alone to face the rest of their lives.
No. No, no, no, no. This all felt like a bad dream. Why couldn't they just wait up? Why did it have to be real? She was just with them last night. She was laughing and smiling and teasing them even. She was holding her granddaughter in her lap as they talked about silly, unimportant things. It was just a normal night. It was all so painfully normal. There was were no warnings, no signs. They weren't prepared for this. How could anyone be prepared for this? What was even happening? God, this feeling—this agony only grew and grew into something so horrible, they couldn't find a word for it.
That hole just continued to grow and grow as every second become a minute become an hour. Even after losing a mom and a dad, it was all new again. This suffering was new and unfamiliar, even though they had all felt it before, even though it had crept into their lives once before, taking Ethan and Josephine.
The true had settled in on them, in their hearts and in their minds. Annette was no longer in their world. She was watching over them with Ethan, Josephine and Ethan. She was resting eternally with the Lord. It was good that she would be a peace, that she could keep watching them as they grew, as their children would grow, but to them, it was so unjust. She was gone forever. They would never see her again, never hold her, never ever be able to tell her how much they loved her. She was their mom. She was their best friend. She was their adviser on all things in this crazy, amazing, hellish, beautiful mess called life. She was the one person who could make it all better when Dad didn't understand or didn't have the words to make it all right.
Soon all of the memories seemed to play in their heads. All of those bright, snowy Christmas mornings when they would rush downstairs to find Mom and Dad drinking coffee and waiting for them to open their gifts. They would take turns handing out gifts until every single one had been passed out. Mom and Dad would soak in their faces when they opened their gifts, smiling wide with joy or squealing from excitement. Their little faces lighting up was the best gift for Annette. Then they would pass out in the wrapping paper and force Mom to clean it all up herself, because she didn't want to wake them. They always slept so peacefully, snuggling up with a pillow from the couch or a leg from a sibling.
Or the happy birthday pancakes. When they were younger, Annette would sneak into their room on the morning of their birthday with pancakes that had Happy Birthday in whipped cream on them. Mostly, they read: smiley face B-day, because the words wouldn't fit on the pancakes. She still tried her best nonetheless to fit the words. When she messed up, she'd use chocolate syrup to cover the mistake or strawberries or blueberries. Sometimes bananas. She always did her best. She wanted them to know their life was the most important thing and should always be cherished and celebrated. She wanted them to always feel worthy and loved.
Oh gosh, and Easter. She would spend hours filling eggs with chocolate goodies and dying eggs all their favorite colors just to see them smile. She would have the dye coloring on her fingers for days from all the dying she did. She didn't care. She just wanted to see their little faces light up when they found one. They knew it made her so happy. She wore this smile that just lit up her face and she had a happy little giggle that escaped her lips every single time, making it feel like they were five years old again. She had always way of making even the little things so special.
Even when Ethan and Jo were alive, Annette took care of Maggie and Beth as if they were her own. She would take the four of them out to places and just let them do what they wanted. As they got older, though, they drifted away from her. It was so cruel of them. She took the time to drive them to the mall and places like that only for them to ditch her and leave her to wonder aimlessly until they returned to ask for money or because they were hungry. Why didn't they stick around?
Thinking back on all of the fights and bitter words yelled by all of them at her, they wondered if she knew how much they loved her and how special and amazing of a person she was. They never said it quite enough, did they? They always thought "next time" or "she knows". They never really went out of their way to make sure she knew how much she meant to them, that all of the "I hate yous" were just said to hurt her, because they were stupid kids who didn't know how much those words actually cut into her. If they had known how short their time was with her, they would've spent more time with her. They would've told her every night before they left the house for the night that they loved her. They would've hugged her and held on just a little longer. They wouldn't have groaned teasingly and let her go. Why did they do that? Her hugs weren't rare, but they should've acted like they were. They didn't realize how much the little things mattered until they could never indulge in them again.
Maggie knew Annette wasn't the best at farm work when she and Shawn and Carol first moved to the farm. It was funny to watch her try and feed the animals, because she wasn't sure what to do. She didn't know if she should fill the trough or not, because sometimes when Maggie was lazy, she'd just toss it over for them. Hershel was too busy trying to teach Shawn how to ride a horse so he could help with the cattle, so she had to help her. She didn't mind. Annette was very sweet to her and always let her talk about her mom if she needed to. It was really a lot of fun, more fun than Maggie thought it would be. It was a great day, and Annette only got bitten about three or four times.
Beth was playing the piano just for fun one night. She'd been taught by both Patricia and Otis, who also played the guitar, and she was working on playing a song for her eighth grade talent show. She wasn't sure if she wanted to actually perform it or not. The mere thought of performing made her so nervous. She worried about how it sounded, both the song and her voice. Annette walked by and heard her downing herself, and she snapped at her. She told her she was talented and she had an amazing singing voice, even if it drove Shane and Daryl completely batty. Annette then sat with her for three hours as she played the piece then sang the song and then finally sang and played. It really gave her a boost of confidence. She was so happy to tell Annette she won first place that she just tackled her in a hug and squealed.
– – –
Around two 'o clock in the afternoon, Patricia finally managed to get a hold of Shawn. He and Sasha had gone out of town for a few hours to get something or do something for the twins. He was very vague about it. He could hear the urgency in Patricia's voice, so he prepared himself for anything. He wasn't sure if it Mason or the shop or maybe Vivian had contacted them, but he was ready for it. He really hoped Vivian hadn't said anything. He didn't want to see his mom's face when he explained that night or what he remembered from that night. It was all a damn blur, and he kept hoping nothing had come from it, but something did: Nathan.
When Shawn arrived, he instantly felt the world tilted. His dad was sitting on the couch, holding onto a wedding band, and he looked so distraught. The house was quiet, but he heard sobbing coming from upstairs. It was Carol and Beth. Why were they all so upset? What happened?
"Mom?" He called. "Mom?"
Patricia stepped out of the kitchen. "Shawn, it's good to see you."
"It's good to see you two. I missed you both." He hugged her. "How was your trip to...wherever you went?"
"Shawn, we need to talk." She set her hands on his shoulders. "There's been an—accident."
"Oh, God. Is it Mag? Did she get shot?" His heart began to pound in his ears. "Was she—? Oh, God." He covered his mouth with his hand, feeling sick.
"No, no, Maggie is all right. All of your sisters are."
"Then who? Dad's right there and I saw Otis outside by the shed, so..." He paled. "Mom? M—Mom?"
She nodded. "She passed away in her sleep last night."
"P—passed—What?" He felt dizzy. "She—passed away? As in—as in dead? As in gone, like my fa—father?"
"Yes."
"N—no." He shook his head. "You—you're lying. This is some sick joke, I know. You—you're lying to me! Mom isn't dead! You're a horrible person!"
Sasha gripped his hand. "Shawn, she's not lying."
"How do you know? You were with me all goddamn morning!" He jerked his hand back. "This isn't funny."
"Shawn." Hershel rose and walked over to him. "It's not meant to be funny. It's the truth. Annette died last night. It was quick and peaceful."
He searched his dad's eyes and shook his head.
"Your sisters are upstairs. If you need to talk—"
"No! I don't need to talk! This is bullshit! This—It's all a bad dream." He turned and ran out of the house. It wasn't real. It was a bad dream. One of the horribly vivid ones. He'd wake up and find Sasha giggling at him for mumbling in his sleep about stupid little things, like killer squirrels that want his spicy chicken wings. He knew he would wake up, and everything would all right. It had to be all right. His mom had to be alive. She had to be alive.
He collapsed in the middle of the field, the warm dirt against his palms. She was alive. It was just a bad dream. It was just a bad dream. God, let it be a bad dream. He wasn't ready to let her go. He wasn't ready to let her rest. He needed her. He needed her guidance and support. Don't let this be real. Don't let this be happening. It wasn't happening. It wasn't happening. It wasn't. It just wasn't. No. No. God, no.
"This isn't happening," he murmured as tears built up in his eyes. "This isn't happening." It's a lie. It's all a lie! God, no.
– – –
Maggie stroked Beth's hair, her head resting in her lap, and Maggie stared at the picture of her, Carol and Beth lying in a small circle on the ground, their hair blending together. Brown, blonde and red with lively green grass and white tank tops. It was a warm day, and they were all running around and having fun while Daddy and Ethan made steaks and burgers and hot dogs on the grill. It was the first day of summer, and they were all below the preteen age.
Carol and Beth were running after each other and Maggie joined them when Beth grabbed her bandana. Ethan and Hershel were having an argument on whose steak would taste better after marinating in some sauce, and they were laughing at how wrong the other was, but it was a friendly argument. Annette was teaching Shawn how to play poker with Jo, and he was determined to not let two conniving women best him.
Carol and Beth and Maggie had ran from one side of the farm to the other, and they made it back and just collapsed onto the ground, giggling like hyenas. Jo took the picture of them on the ground once the sweat had been wiped away, and they each got a copy. They were framed in all of their rooms. They took another with Shawn, but it was of Maggie and Carol on either side of him with her hands held up like guns with Beth on his back, her index and middle finger up in peace signs on both hands, smiling happily. It was a fantastic.
Her shoulders trembled as tears streamed down her cheek as if renewed, and she brought her hand up to her mouth.
––
Maggie stood by her father, shaking hands with the people who had come to her mother's funeral. They weren't having awake. Jo didn't want a wake, because she didn't want the girls around strangers. She didn't want them to feel obligated to tend to the people standing about and telling stories neither of them really remembered. She wanted them to be around the people they loved: Patricia, Otis, Shawn, Carol and Annette.
Carol took Maggie's hand and held it, squeezing it tightly. "Hey."
"Hey." She couldn't smile, not even for Carol or Annette or her dad.
"I know asking "How are you holding up" is like a kick to the gut, so I won't ask. Is it ten?"
"Fifty." Her voice broke, and she lifted her hand to her mouth.
She wrapped her free arm around Maggie. "I won't leave. I'll be right here."
Maggie nodded.
"Hey, Beth." Shawn smiled at her a little, but she kept staring at the coffin. "You gotta do me a favor, Beth. Can you do me a favor?"
She slowly lifted her eyes to his. "You're askin' me to do you a favor? Now, of all days?"
"Yep. And you gotta do it, 'cause it's from Jo, yeah?"
"What's the favor?" Her eyes filled with tears.
"Think of before. Of the laughs and smiles and burnt tacos." He pulled her into a hug as she sobbed. "You have to think of the good. You just have to."
She dug her nails into his back, and he held her tighter.
Annette rubbed Hershel's arm and offed him a sympathetic smile. "It's a lovely day. It's the kind of day Jo loved."
"God's gift to us on this sad day."
She hugged him. "I know she's up there with my Ethan, watching over us." She rubbed his back. "And one day, the pain won't seem so bad."
He rested his head on her shoulder. "But that day is not today."
"No, it's not."
Maggie and Carol walked back to the car, holding hands and not speaking. Maggie wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress, and Carol set her other hand on Maggie's elbow, letting her know she was there for her.
Behind them, Shawn carried Beth on his back. She was crying softly, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other wiping her nose—she didn't have any tissues in her pants pockets—and Shawn held her legs, hearing her snuffle and sigh softly. He wished he could do more for her, but he couldn't. Poor kid had lost her mom before she had a chance to really know her. At least he knew his dead for sixteen years. She didn't even have ten.
Annette and Hershel lingered by a coffin, knowing Shawn would drive the kids to the farm. She held his hand and recited Josephine's favorite Biblical verse for only Hershel to hear. They stood there, almost feeling Ethan and Jo's presence behind them, and slowly, Hershel lifted his head and guided Annette to the car.
– – –
Beth pulled her legs in closer, her knees bumping against Maggie's thigh, and she kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the world right now as it was a dark, cruel place. She hadn't felt so bad since her birth mother died. She hardly remembered the feeling, because she was so young and didn't fully understand death. She would have death in her life more than most as a nurse, and she still didn't understand death.
How did death decide who it took? Was it just chance? How did death know exactly whose time had come to an end? Why couldn't it just...return her mom to her body and let her not be dead?
She knew God had a plan for everyone, but what was the plan here? She had endless faith, but she didn't understand what good this would bring. Their mother was gone. Yes, she could be thankful that Annette went peacefully in her sleep, but it was such crap. She had so much she wanted to tell Annette, and now she would never have the chance. She would never...see how she reacted. After all Annette had helped her through... God, help them.
––
Beth went to the hospital to see Annette and to replace the vase of flowers they'd brought last time. She brought some roses that were different colors, but bright and happy. She wanted to brighten that dingy little room, make it feel more like home. She hoped her mom didn't mind.
She knocked then opened the door and found her mom alone. She smiled. "Good mornin'."
"Good morning." She stood up.
"You shouldn't be up."
"Oh, I'm up. Come here." She hugged her daughter, minding the vase of roses. "I will not let anything stop me from hugging my children." She kissed Beth's temple and sat down. "Ooh, those are lovely."
"You like them?"
"I love them." She plucked an orange-colored rose and smelled it. "Mmm, I love roses. They're my favorite."
She smiled happily. "I'm glad. I wanted to brighten the room. I figured brightly colored flowers would do that perfectly."
"You thought correctly." She touched the silky petals. "Hmm. Don't you have class?"
"Not today." She set the vase down on the table.
"Are you missing class to spend time with me, because you think I'm going to die?"
Beth tensed. "D—don't say that."
"I'm not going to die in some hospital, sweetheart. I refuse." She sat back on the bed, pulling her legs up and pulled the blankets over them. "Come and sit with me."
She removed her purse and sat down by her mom. "How are you today?"
"I'm good. The doctors want to keep me here, run some tests, blah blah." She tapped Beth's nose with the rose, and Beth giggled. "Do not worry about me." She tapped her nose with each word. "I'm all right."
"Stop, you'll make me sneeze." She tucked hair behind her ear.
"How's Mag?"
"I don't know. She's been busy with police stuff." She rested her hands in her lap. "I only see her at breakfast, and I'm usually crammin'."
"How are your grades?"
"As and Bs." She sighed. "I study all the time. I feel how Carol felt."
"I know you'll do well. I'm proud of you, Beth. You can do anything you put your mind to." She crossed her ankles. "And Shawn? How is he doing? He hasn't been by."
"Not too good." She dropped her eyes. "After he and Sasha broke up, he just...kinda shut down. I think it's the guilt that eatin' him alive. He hates himself for what happened." She scratched her knee through her jeans. "It's been real quiet around the house 'cause he's out all the time. He ain't workin' though. He's just...out."
"Ethan always raised Shawn to be respectful and loyal and honest above anything else. I think—and this is my opinion alone, so do not share it with him." Beth nodded. "I think Shawn feels that he's betrayed both Sasha and Ethan."
"Was he close to his dad?"
"Not as close as Ethan wanted them to be. Shawn was very close to Carol and to me, and Carol was close to all of us, but her father especially. She took his death so hard. I wanted to comfort her, but she pushed me away. She even pushed Shawn away." She paused. "Actually, they both pushed me away. It took Shawn a long time to trust me again..."
"I remember. Well, a little."
Annette gazed off for a moment.
"Do you miss him?"
"Ethan?"
"Yeah."
"Every day. He was...one of the best men I've ever loved." She exhaled. "Beth?"
"Mmm?"
"I want you to do me a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"When I die—someday in the distant future, of course—sing for my funeral."
"What?"
"I think you know."
She nodded. "Okay." She picked up the rose. "Any other requests?"
"No, I've had enough of sad topics. Let's talk about the man you have feelings for."
She flushed. "W—what? There's no man."
"All right, a guy then."
"I don't know what you're talkin' about."
"You have strong feelings for him. I haven't seen you blush this much since you dated Jimmy."
"Ma, stop it!" She buried her face into her knees.
Annette laughed and put her arms around Beth. "You're so adorable." She moved hair aside from Beth's ear to make sure Beth heard her every word. "What's his name? Can I guess it? Huh?"
"Mom, stop it! God! Lemme go!"
"Never!" She laughed.
– – –
Daryl moved hair out of Carol's face, rubbing her shoulder gently, and she didn't move. She just sat with her head in his lap, and he was really worried. Beth and Maggie were curled up outside the room, but they were at least speaking. Patricia brought up some water and tea, and he took a cup of water for Carol, but she didn't take it or even make a comment. She just didn't move.
"Carol?"
She said nothing.
"You need to drink some water." He grabbed the cup. "Here."
She didn't sit up to take the cup.
"Carol, you need to drink something. Open your mouth, at least so I can waterfountain it in."
Nothing.
"Damn, woman, talk to me. You're scarin' the shit outta me. Say anythin', please talk."
She exhaled and sniffed. "I'm remembering the last talk I had with my mom."
"At your party?"
She nodded and sat up, tears falling from her eyes. "When I was about ten, Mom brought me here. It was fall, and everything was a breathtaking golden color." She met his eyes. "We ran through the cornfield. Just bolted through it, you know?"
He looked into her red-rimmed eyes.
"We met in the middle, and she grabbed my hands, and we just spun in a circle, like in one of those silly kiddie movies." More tears. "She was laughing, the wind and the spinning made her hair look like it was fire, and—she let me go. We fell into the warm earth and laughed for, like, an hour straight. We had no reason to laugh, but we just couldn't stop."
He chewed his bottom lip.
"I made her promise we'd do it again next year. I begged and begged until she finally said yes." She whimpered. "W—we never did, Daryl. We never—never will."
He rested his forehead against her. "You can't think 'bout the unfinished business."
"How can I not?"
"Drink." He took her hand and set it over the cup and made her drink the water. "Another drink, c'mon."
She blocked the next drink. "How do I tell Sophia?" She shook her head. "I—I need air. God, I need to get out of here." She climbed to her feet and hurried down the stairs and out the front door. She sucked in the fresh air and choked on it.
She gripped her knees and struggled for a breath, closing her eyes and shaking her head, sobbing. "No, no, no." She looked up and saw Shawn in the field. "Shawn?"
He looked up from where he sat, coiled up, knees to his chest, and he shook his head at her.
"You're—you're here." She walked over to him. "Shawn."
"No!" He was on his feet. "No! Don't come near me!"
"W—what?" She stopped. "Shawn, why are you—?"
"I said don't!" He disappeared into the field.
"S—Shawn?" She stared after him. What? Why did he just...? She couldn't lose him, not now. She needed him. She needed to talk to him. She had to. "Shawn, wait!"
He didn't. He ran from her, from the truth, and he didn't look back. He just kept running, denying it all. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be.
– – –
Hours later, Maggie and Beth and Carol sat in the living room on the floor, Hershel and Patricia were making funeral arrangements while Daryl picked up Sophia. Sasha was in the kitchen, getting the address book Annette kept by the calendar, unable to get a hold of Shawn.
She knew he needed to be alone right now. She would wait until he was ready to talk about it. He still was in major denial, and when he realized it was real, she was going to be there. Right now, Hershel needed her. Her mother was on the way, but it would be a few hours. She and Dad were busy with the shop and Greene Leaf. Mom wanted to make sweets for the Greenes, and she knew Dad probably went to church to pray for the Greenes. She hoped they came soon. She needed them.
Beth picked at her jacket, freezing to death, it felt like. "What—what will we be expected to do, Daddy?"
"We'll take care of everythin'." Patricia gave her a small smile.
"What about her eulogy?" Maggie stared hard at the tea in her cup. "Who's gonna do that?"
"Annette wanted Carol to say a few words," Hershel confessed.
Carol lifted her head. "M—me?" She choked back tears. "Why me?"
"If you don't want to—"
"No! No, I will. I want to."
"I have a few words to say myself," Beth spoke up. "I promised her I would, so I'm gonna talk too."
"You promised?" Maggie asked. "When?"
"A couple years ago in the hospital."
Carol whimpered. "She—she made you promise?"
"No, but I made a promise to myself to speak at her funeral." She lowered her eyes. "And I will."
Daryl and Sophia came in then, Sophia ran over to her mom, and Carol tensed up for moment, feeling the night air on Sophia's jacket, and her eyes burned. She held Sophia close and kissed the top of her head. She let out a small cry and buried her face in Sophia's hair.
Daryl sat beside her silently.
"What happened?" Sophia looked over her mom's face. "It's Grandma, I know. Is she okay?"
"No, baby, she's not." She moved hair from her daughter's face. "She passed away last night, baby."
"What?"
"Grandma died, Sophia. It was peaceful, and she didn't feel a thing, I promise."
"She—she's dead?"
Beth shifted to lean into Maggie as Sophia began to cry, closing her eyes, and Maggie set her hand on Beth's head as Sophia's sob mixed with Carol's, and soon, they were all just softly sobbing. Hershel covered his face with his hand and sobbed, and Patricia sat beside him, setting an arm around his back, and shushed him softly, letting him mourn.
Carol held onto Sophia and grabbed Daryl's hand, lacing her fingers through his tightly, and she leaned into him, holding Sophia and his hand close.
– – –
"Cheese and crackers or mini cakes?" Annette asked Maggie.
"I'm not hungry." She wiped her nose.
"You have to eat sometime, brave girl." She sat beside her on the couch. "It's been two days. You need to eat." She moved hair behind Maggie's ear.
"I ain't hungry, Annette."
"Your mother asked me to look after you, and I will."
"So, what, you're my mom now?" She glared. "Screw you!" She stormed out of the living room and into the kitchen.
Annette followed. "I'm not your mother, Maggie. I will never be your mother, because Jo was an amazing one-of-a-kind woman who nobody can replace or even try to replace." She crossed her arms. "I love you, and I take care of the people I love. I made a promise to Jo to take care of you and of Beth, but you don't need it. You're a strong young woman. Beth needs that in her life, and I know it's unfair, but it has to be you."
Maggie shuddered, sniffling.
"I know losing her is the worst pain in the world to you, but it will get better. I know you don't want to hear that, but it will."
"How?" Maggie's voice was weak. "I feel like...part of me is missin'. How does that get better?"
"When Ethan and I were your age—shocking, I know—" Maggie giggled weakly and very briefly. "—he used to tell me 'always remember to forget the things that make you sad, but never forget to remember the things that made you glad.'."
She turned to face Annette.
"You're so like your mother, Maggie. When you look in the mirror, don't see the loss of your mother, see the life she gave to you, the strength and the unconditional love. We both know it won't be easy, but when you look in any mirror, I want you to think of one happy time with your mom. Can you do that for me?"
"Yeah."
"Even if you run out of things, just think of one happy moment with Jo. Keep her with you always, all right, brave girl?"
She nodded. "I can do that."
She closed the space between them and hugged Maggie. "A lot of who Jo was will become a blur as you grow older—her smell, her voice, her laugh—but never let her memory go. As long as you remember how much she loved you and how much you loved her, she'll always be with you."
She nodded, softly crying.
"Don't hold anything back. That only makes it worse." She smoothed her hair down.
"Why her?" Maggie whispered. "Why so soon? It isn't fair!"
"I know." Her eyes burned heavily. "It's never fair, honey. It's just...cruel, but it's life, you know? You have to be strong, and you have to fight. You don't give up."
She inhaled deeply. "We put her in the ground, Annette. In the ground!"
"Her body yes, but her soul is with God. She's watching over you and your sister and father always." She saw Hershel coming in front the back door, and he walked over to them as she released Maggie. "I'm going to run to the market and get some milk." She stepped back as Hershel embraced his daughter. In time, it would all work out. Maggie would see that, and Annette would be there when she smiled again. She would make sure that day came sooner rather than later. For Jo and for herself. Beth and Maggie were like her own kin as Shawn and Carol were like Jo's. They were a family, and they would stay that way.
– – –
"Shawn?" Sasha checked the garage, but he wasn't there. His car wasn't there either. "Shawn?"
"Shawn?" Jacqui tried the bedroom. The bed hadn't been slept in; no clothes had been taken out of the closet. "Hello?"
"Shawn!" Tyreese scanned the front yard.
Shawn was nowhere to be seen, and Annette's funeral was in six hours. They'd been looking for him for two days, but there was no sign of him. Sasha was beyond worried, but according to Rick, there were no accidents in the past few days, no unidentified bodies. He was just...gone.
"Shawn, where are you?" She glanced over the backyard. Come home.
––
Daryl looked in on Carol again, but she hadn't moved. She was curled up in bed, snuggling Sophia's stuffed bear Dee Dee to her chest, staring off into space with glassy eyes. He couldn't seem to reach her anymore. She hadn't eaten in three days, and she never left the bed. He was allowed to hold her and kissed her forehead or temple or neck, but it was as if she wasn't there. She was so small lying there, so pale and fragile-looking. It was like with Ethan—her father—only his voice didn't seem to reach her. Or Sophia's.
Sophia had taken her grandmother's death very hard, but she still ate and talked and drew—mostly pictures of Annette. She would often ask Hershel to tell her a story about Annette, and even though it hurt, he told her a story. She would hold onto his hand with both of hers and really listen, as if she wanted to absorb every word. She didn't want to forget, he knew that, but she was trying to hold to know the past, she was missing the present.
––
Dale stopped by the farm again with a bouquet of flowers. The house was filled with flowers and baskets of sweet goodies and cards from the people who knew them and who knew Annette. Hell, some were from strangers. It was really sweet how Dale helped them through it, giving them kind words of wisdom. He was very kind to them, and he made Sophia smile, which warmed their aching hearts. He would be back after the funeral. He wanted to help look for Shawn. They only had three fours left, after all.
– – –
Maggie zipped up Beth's dress. "Do you remember when you borrowed Mom's red blouse for one of your senior pictures?"
She smiled a little. "She was so mad, 'cause I didn't ask. She didn't care that I borrowed it, just that I didn't ask."
Maggie looked at her in the mirror. "I talked to Daddy about puttin' a picture in the Greene Leaf."
"You did?" She turned. "What did he say?"
"He did it last night." She sniffed. "People left—"
"Hey, take your time." She rubbed arm and a waited a minute, watching Maggie slowly back away from the edge of depression. "They left what?"
She took a deep breath. "They left flowers on the table below the pictures and a few tealight candles."
"Aw." She smiled a little more. "How—how sweet."
She nodded. "But...with her funeral in an hour and a half... God, it's just all comin' back."
"I know. We have to be strong." Beth took her sister's hands and held them tight. "We all got jobs to do. We don't get to cry anymore, Mag. Mom wouldn't want us to cry anymore."
"I know." She inhaled deeply. "I'll be okay."
"Today is about makin' peace with Ma's death—all of us."
"Shawn's not even here, Beth. He doesn't even know what time the funeral is. He's—he's just off somewhere."
"God has a plan for everythin'. I believe that. I have to, so I know he'll be there."
"Always remember to forget the things that make you sad, but never forget to remember the things that made you glad."
"What is that?"
"Somethin' Annette told me a long time ago." She smiled, and it was genuine. "Let's go over the speeches again. It's you, me and then Carol last. I think that's how Annette would want it."
She nodded. "We are gathered here today to remember a woman who touched all of our lives in different ways. A woman who had wisdom beyond her years and blessed our lives by sharin' it, by guidin' us..."
– – –
Vivian had tried contacting Shawn in the last three days, but he didn't answer any of her calls, texts or e-mails. She was thoroughly annoyed by this. He had a son that wanted to see him, and he had promised he would come when his son really wanted to see him. Where was he now?
She found his house dark and empty-looking with no cars in the driveway. She hoped he was parked in the garage. She knocked on the door, careful to not break a nail or bruise a knuckle. She waited a moment before the door opened, and she frowned.
Shawn stood there in dirty clothes, a scruff that desperately needed shaved off and horrid bags under his eyes. He looked like a hobo. Positively hideous.
"Dear God, what the hell happened to you?"
He glared at her.
"Fine, don't answer. I simply came to demand you see our son. If you no longer feel comfortable seeing him then we can make a new arrangement. You can pay for schooling, and I demand the very best for my son, so it'll cost you."
"I have to finish cutting out my mother's obituary, so crawl under a rock and die."
"You—what?" She shifted her weight.
"Pick up a paper. Annette Grace Greene, my mother, died three days."
"Oh, God." She looked surprisingly upset about that. "How?"
"In her sleep. I don't know how. I haven't exactly been...around."
"All right. Umm, please let me inside. I'll make you something to eat while you clean yourself up. You're absolutely disgusting." She pushed her way inside and closed the door, setting her purse and jacket on the couch. "How do eggs whites and wheat toast sound?"
"You're going to cook for me?" He laughed. "Seriously?"
"All right, Caveman, listen to me. You are going to shower and shave and brush your hair! I am not joking here."
"You are not my wife." He picked up a bottle of beer and drank from it.
She smacked the bottle out of his hand, he choked on beer, and she glared. "No, I am not your wife. I will not be gentle. Your mother, the woman who gave birth to you and raised you and loved you, just died. The least you can do is make yourself presentable for her funeral, which I am assuming has yet to occur, so go shower."
"Why do you care?"
"Because I happened to love my mother very much, and I was unable to attend her funeral." Her eyes held actual years. "She wanted to see me, but I was too busy with my own life to care about a dying old woman. It—it was the most sizable mistake I've ever made in my life. No one should ever—miss their mother's last words."
He stared at her. "Demons can cry?"
"Shawn." It was such a defeated sound. "No, no, don't. Hold it together, Vivian," she said softly to herself.
Was she seriously talking to herself? "Uh, Vivian?"
"You need to get cleaned up and say goodbye to your mother." She rested her hands in front of her. "She was a good woman."
He narrowed his eyes. "You knew my mother?"
"Yes, I knew her." She met his eyes. "I will tell you how only if you clean up and fetch your best suit."
"You're insane."
"Am I to be offended by the man who has abandoned his pregnant wife, sisters or brothers, father and dead mother?" She held her ground. "I won't peek. I assure you."
"I'll be sure to lock the door," he slowly replied, thinking of his mother and of Sasha. God, what the hell was he doing? He turned and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. He needed to be there for his sisters. He had to be there for his dad and for his mom. He checked the time. He only had an hour. Hell, that was perfect. He was the best at rushing.
– – –
Carol a single white rose on the coffin as the others departed, the cold wind blowing at her, and she sniffed softly, looking at the marble headstone that would be the only physical reminder in this world of Ethan Wellington Harrison.
"Can I have a minute alone, please?" Carol couldn't look at Shawn and her mom.
"Of course, pretty girl."
She waited until they were gone before she lifted her eyes. "I know you're not in that body anymore and that you're with God, but that doesn't make losing you any better." She paused to keep her voice steady. "I know you'll never walk me down the aisle or hold your first grandchild, but if you could just let me know somehow that you're with me on those days, I would really appreciate it."
Daryl watched Carol speak to her father's coffin, seeing Annette and Shawn talking softly a few feet away, and he shifted his gaze back to her for a moment. He hadn't been invited by Carol, because she was too much of a mess, but Shawn asked him to be there. He had no suit to wear, so he wore his best and darkest-colored clothes. He didn't want them to think he was being disrespectful, and he knew by the look in their eyes they knew he wasn't. He wanted to be there for Carol, and just watching her talk to her dad's coffin made his body react. He found himself walking over to her.
"...Shawn who stole that quill, but it was me. I'm sorry, Daddy. I should've told you, but I was so scared you'd hate me. Now...you can't even—"
"He wouldn't have hated you."
She looked over at him. "You—Oh, thank God!" She threw her arms around him, gripping his vest in her hands. "I thought you weren't coming."
"'Course I came."
"Thank God for that, because I need you, Daryl. I can't do this alone, and I can't even look at Shawn or my mom, so please don't go."
"Hey, I'm here." He tentatively set his hand on the back of her head. "I'm here."
He held her in his arms close for several seconds before she was able to let him go. She took his hand and held it with both of her, looking once more at the coffin, and she began to wheeze. Daryl gripped her shoulder, but she still fell to her knees, taking Daryl with her. He let her bury her face in his chest and cry, and he rubbed her shoulder with his thumb, trying to sooth her, but he didn't know what good it was doing. She was in such pain.
Everything was changing for the worst lately. Her father had been killed, her brother was considering moving far away, and her mother wouldn't even take the time to listen to anything she had to say. She didn't want to just talk about her dad, because it hurt to talk about him. She wanted to distract her mind, think of only Shawn leaving and think of school and of stupid little things so that maybe for one tiny second she wouldn't feel the pain of losing her father. Just one whole second. Was that so much to ask for?
– – –
Daryl didn't know how to tie a tie. He'd only ever worn one, and Annette...had tied it for him. He'd kept it together for Carol and Sophia's sake, but looking at this ridiculous black tie made his chest ache. He loved Annette. She was there for him when she didn't have to be. She gave him respect and love without ever questioning what he had done while he was with his father and brother. She didn't care about the past, not as long as there was a salvageable future. She would've done anything to help anyone achieve a decent future. She was the mother he never had.
He shuddered a breath and saw Carol in the mirror, a tear falling down his cheek. She wore a simple black dress with thin straps and the shawl Annette had given her, her hair pulled back with her bangs curled and bobby pinned back out of her face; the locket he had given her replaced by gold cross Annette had given her for her seventh birthday.
"Let me." She set the shawl on the counter and took the tie. Reaching up, she slipped it around the collar of his shirt. She met his eyes as she adjusted the tie, giving him an assuring smile, and she gently tugged on the tie. "There." She ran her hands down his chest. "I have to help Sophia with her hair and picking out a dress. She's never...been to a funeral before."
He nodded.
"Before I help her, could you do something for me?"
"Anythin'."
"Hold me as tight as you can, because I feel like I'm coming apart." Her voice broke, and he tucked her in his arms tightly, feeling the tremble that ran through her. "I thought—I thought there'd be more time. Why wasn't there more time?"
"I don't know."
"I—I've always had my mother, and now she's gone." Her voice was so small, but the way she said gone might as well have been a scream, because it shattered his heart. "How did she think I could live without her?"
He tightened his grip as she sagged against him. "It's okay."
"No, no. It's not okay," she whispered. "It's not."
"Carol..."
"Don't, please don't." She shook her head and pulled away from him. "I—I can't do this right now. We have to get ready. We—we have to—" She covered her mouth with her hand as she let out a pained cry that made tears return to his eyes.
"T—take a minute, sit down." Daryl tried to touch her, but she moved away, shaking her head again.
"I have to help Sophia." She rushed out of the bathroom.
His hand hovered there in the air where she once stood before he slowly drew it back and closed his eyes for a moment. He glanced over and freed his jacket from the hanger, slipping it on. He grabbed her shawl, and he flicked the light off, chewing on his bottom lip.
How did she think I could live without her?
––
Hershel looked at the watch he'd been given too many years ago, closed his hand around it and tucked it into his pocket. He looked over at Annette's vanity, seeing all of her belongings just lying about as if she would come out of the bathroom and fix it with that gentle laugh she had. He could almost see her on Sundays before church, her hair still damp from a shower, and she would be asking what project they would taking part in: the canned food drive or the coats for the cold. She wanted to do both, even if it meant giving up all of her coats, old and new.
He exhaled softly and left the room. He saw Bethy sitting on her bed alone, adjusting her heel. She had her hair curled over her shoulder, wearing a pair of Annette's pearl earrings, and she was reading over something so softly he couldn't make out the words. "Are you coming, honey?"
"In a minute."
He walked to Maggie's room, seeing her run her hairbrush over her shoulder-length brown hair, staring off into space. Unlike Beth, Maggie wore a black and gray color-block blouse with black pants. He knew the black pants were a gift from Annette for Maggie's college graduation. She didn't want to wear a dress, because she was afraid she'd trip and fall on her face. "Mag?"
"Just a second, Daddy." She gave him a small smile.
He nodded. "Take your time, both of you girls."
He waited by the stairs for about two minutes, hearing the ticking of the watch against his breast, and he exhaled deeply, feeling a heavy weight on his chest.
Beth stepped out of her room. "I'm ready."
"Clothes wise, I'm ready." Maggie pulled her bedroom door shut. "Everything else, I don't know about."
Hershel pulled them into a hug. "We'll get through this. We will."
This too shall pass.
– – –
Everyone stood around the oak coffin that caught the sun and made the wreath of flowers almost glow. The wind blew at them, but it was still a hot day. It was a beautiful day, but it wasn't just another beautiful day. It would be a long time before it would be just another beautiful day.
Looking out at the people who had come to Annette's...funeral, they realized, Shawn still wasn't there. Sasha stood by her mother, brother and father, but no husband. It only added to their loss. Shawn never took death well, especially their father's death. It...tore into him, changed him. Carol was just as bad.
– – –
"Shawn, it's time." Carol stood in the doorway to his room, but he still wore sweats and an over-worn t-shirt. "Shawn, you're a mess! You were supposed to shower and—and change hours ago!"
"I'm not going." He stared at his glass of water.
"And why not?"
"Because, brat, I don't want to go."
"Oh, grow up, Shawn! You're not the only one hurting here!" Her eyes filled with tears again, and she took a deep breath. "Just drown yourself in cologne and put your suit on. Mom's waiting!"
He tossed his glass at the door, she jumped back and let out a gasp of surprise, and he looked at her with such disgust. "How could you?"
"How could I what? What am I doing? I'm helping Mom get through this, so how is that wrong?"
"You're playing the part well, but we both know you hate her."
"What?! I do not hate Mom."
"How can you not?" He leaned toward her. "Because of her, we didn't get to say goodbye to Dad! We didn't get to tell him we loved him or anything! She just took our goodbyes, our feelings on the matter and tossed them out the window! She didn't give two shits about us, so why should I?"
"Because he's our father! This has nothing to do with Mom, Shawn! This is about us la—"
"Oh, bull-fucking-shit!" He came off his bed so fast Carol flinched. "This is you and me dressing up to mourn our father in front of the whole damn world! I will have no part in it!"
"So, you'll suffer in silence? Is that who you are now?"
"Don't give me that look, Carol! Don't use that tone! I'm right, and you know it!"
"What I know is that you're being an asshole!"
"And you're being an ass-kisser!"
She smelled his breath, and she stared. "Have—have you been drinking?"
"Why do you care?"
"Have you been drinking?!" she demanded.
"Yes! Why does it matter?"
She went over to his bed and tossed the sheet back, discovering an empty bottle of vodka and a few small bottles of tequila, like the ones from a hotel minibar. "Oh, my God!"
"What, I'm practically an adult. I don't need permission." He scooped up a bottle of beer from his backpack and opened it. "Here, after a few, you'll see the world in a whole new light."
She smacked the bottle away from her and out of his hand.
"Dude, wasteful!" He reached for the beer.
"Don't—don't pick it up!" She shoved him hard.
"You're cleaning that up." He pointed the foamy puddle steadily forming by the door to his closet. "Or just get me a straw. I think the floor's clean enough."
"Shawn! How could you?" She smacked her hands into his chest. "What the hell were you thinking?!"
"Why not," he screamed back at his little sister. "Why not get so hammered I can't tell who's in front of me? Why not, for one second, forget I no longer have a father? Why not forget about how much of a bitch our mother is! Why not forget that that bitch didn't let us say goodbye! She didn't even let us know what the hell was going on!"
"You were going to drive to the church, drunk as you are?" Carol screamed. "How could you even consider driving? After we just lost Daddy!"
"Oh, like you care!"
"I do care, you jerk! You're my brother, and I love you! How could you seriously consider getting into your car and driving? How?! Have you lost what little of a mind you have?" She searched his eyes. "Do you know how bad that accident was? Do you?"
"Get out of my face, Carol!" He shoved her, and she fell back and hit the dress, crying out on impact. "Oh, shit! Carol!" He dropped down beside her as her face contorted with pain and tears welled in her eyes. "I—I'm sorry. I am so sorry."
She pushed away his hand when he tried to make sure there was no blood, and she smacked him across the face. "Are you insane or just plain stupid?"
"Ca—"
"No! We just lost Daddy, and here you are about to drive off, drunk!" She was yelling as tears streamed down her face. "You are just making it so easy to die! I saw you yesterday, Shawn. You were going to step out into traffic!"
"Don't be ridiculous. If I wanted to kill myself, pills and booze. After I had sex, of course. Or during."
She hit him again. "You are not funny! I—cannot handle anything right now. I certainly cannot handle losing my big brother! I need you, Shawn. No matter what happens, I will always need you, you big jackass!"
"Hey, you aren't losing me."
"Yes, I am!" She spoke through clenched teeth. "Every day—every day...you disappear more and more!"
"Kid—"
"If you don't go, I don't go."
He chuckled softly. "Give me ten minutes."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed. "Don't ever do this again!"
"I swear." He hugged her back. "Next funeral, I'll be there to bug you while you're trying to get drunk."
"I don't ever want to go to another funeral."
"But you'll have to. C'est la vie." He released her. "Find my sunglasses. I'm gonna need 'em."
"Ten minutes. If you're not ready—"
"Please, I've gotten a shower, breakfast, dressed and copied Andy's homework within ten minutes before." He sighed. "Dad...always used to get on me about cheating. Freaking hate trig, you know? He didn't understand that I suck at it."
"He always said you never applied yourself."
"Well, maybe it's time for a change." He hauled her too her feet. "If I start sobering up, I'm blaming you."
"Good."
"You okay?" He gestured to her head.
"Yes."
"Good."
She walked out of his room and took a deep breath. She leaned against the wall and began to cry softly.
––
Carol adjusted the brooch over her breast. It was a gift from her dad, a family heirloom. It was just a rose with two diamonds on the petals like raindrops. It was her mother's, but she'd let Carol borrow it for today. It was...really beautiful, and she was so worried it would fall off. She kept touching it to make sure it was there.
"Hey." Lori smiled a little at Carol. "How are you?"
"Lori," Andrea's tone said 'don't'. "Do you want anything? Food? Drink?"
"No, thank you." She inhaled. "I just want people to stop asking me what I want. If I wanted anything, I would get it. I lost my father, not my ability to function!"
"I didn't mean to—"
"Yes, no one means to." She sighed. "Why don't you and Lori check on my mother? I need some air." She calmly left the house and went to the backyard. She slumped against the side, resting her hands on her knees, and she tried to calm her stomach, because she didn't want to get sick again.
"You ain't lookin' too good." Daryl sat on the ground just a few feet away, tired of the people wanting to talk and share their feelings. He was just there for Carol. Once the others left, he planned to go to her. Seemed she found him first.
"There you are." She fell to the ground beside him. "How are you? I freaking—no. I fucking hate the question right now. God, why can't they come up with something new? And why try to feed us? They hand out casseroles and cakes like we can actually stomach them. There isn't enough comfort food in the world to fill the void in my life." She pulled her legs to her chest and noticed a flask in his jacket pocket. "Is that—?"
"It ain't mine. Took it from my old man this mornin'. Tsh, forgot I had it."
She knew she'd gone off on Shawn for drinking, but maybe he had a point. Maybe he was right about seeing the world in a new light. She'd never had alcohol before, so she didn't know. Well, she'd had a few sips of wine here and there, offered to her by her parents. It was gross, but maybe vodka or rum or bourbon or whatever the hell Mason drank would make her feel better. If it made Shawn feel better for even a little while. What she wouldn't give to feel better for a second.
"Give me that!" She reached for it, he flinched away, and she stopped. "Sorry! I—I'm sorry."
"Are you kiddin'? You wanna get drunk? Here?"
"Yes." She searched his eyes. "Please, Daryl. Please, I can't—I can't do this. I can't."
He frowned a little as tears welled up her eyes. "You know this ain't gonna—"
"No, I do know! Please, I do know." She gripped his jacket. "I'm not going to drive—I can't. I'll be responsible about it, so please?"
He couldn't stand to see her look like that. "We'll share it."
She smiled. "Okay. I'll get some cups. Don't—don't go anywhere." She climbed to her feet and went inside, grabbing two plastic cups from the kitchen. She glanced around to see if anyone was watching her, and of course they were, because they wanted to cram their condolences down her throat. She smiled then all but ran back to Daryl. "Here."
He twisted the cap off and emptied half into each cup. He glanced at her as she smelled it and groaned. He smirked. "What, it ain't grape soda."
"No, I know. I just—Umm, never mind." She wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat. "To my dad."
"To Ethan." He took a drink, watching her tentatively take a drink, and she coughed, her throat burning. He snickered.
"Oh, God." She coughed into her hand. "What—what the hell is this?"
"I reckon it's a mixture of stuff."
"Stuff being?"
"You don't wanna know."
"So, you're trying to kill me?"
"You're the one who wanted to get drunk." He took another drink, not bothered by its potency.
She took a small drink and groaned. "This is a bad idea."
"The worst."
"And you're not going to stop me or tell my mom?"
"No."
She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Thank you." She didn't notice the blush on his cheeks as she took another drink. Then another and another and another until the cup was empty.
––
"How do you feel now?" Daryl had given her half of his half.
"I don't know." She sighed. "I feel...kinda weird. Like...sublime. Can you feel sublime?"
He smirked. "You're a happy drunk."
"I'm a stupid sober." She took a small drink of what was left in Daryl's cup. "Wait, what?"
"That's enough." He reached for the cup.
"No, no, no." She set it beside her, out of his reach. "Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"You know stuff, right? Like...like things, you know?" He stared at her. "How do you feel better about...death? Shawn got drunk too, and he slept with one of the cheerleaders. Shh, don't tell." She held a finger to her lips. "I had to sneak her out of the house before Mom came home."
"I don't know how you feel better, just...gotta go through it."
"How?" She searched his eyes. "How do you...go through it?"
He shrugged. "You just do."
She pursed her lips. "It takes four minutes to drown... I wonder if that applies to drownin' in your own blood."
He frowned. "Carol—"
She looked at him and laughed. "I'm kidding." She finished his drink and exhaled deeply. "How long until this wears off?"
He shrugged.
She pulled her legs up. "My life sucks."
"No, it don't."
"Yes, it does. I mean, all I do is study and act like a know-it-all, but I don't know anything really, not stuff that matters. I don't know how to take care of myself. I mean, seriously, I can't do crap in the kitchen, and—and I'm bad at cleaning. I tried to help Mom out, but...I can't." She ran a hand through her hair. "And now Dad's dead. He's gone, and it's just the three of us. I don't know how we're going to do this."
"That don't mean your life sucks."
"You don't understand. You still have your dad."
He clenched his jaw. "Oh, boo fucking hoo! Sure, your dad's dead, but you still got Annette and Shawn and this house and school and a future!" He glared at her. "God, you stupid bitch. You don't even know—"
She stared at him, long and hard then leaned over and kissed him. He blinked and jerked back, but she didn't stop coming at him. She grabbed his jacket and crushed her mouth to his, and he just tried to do something. Anything, but he couldn't function. He'd thought about this before, but it was wrong. She was drunk—a terrible lightweight—and vulnerable. He needed to stop her.
She had maneuvered herself in between his legs, an arm around his neck, a hand to his cheek, and he couldn't move back because of the lawn chair behind him. It was metal and heavy, and he was trapped. He tried to gently push her off, but she wasn't letting him. She was drunk enough to kiss him, but sober enough to fight him.
"Carol, stop."
She pulled back. "Why?"
"You're just drunk."
"So?"
"So? Carol, you're—we can't—I can't."
"So, I'm a stupid bitch who's undesirable even drunk." She nodded. "That is great."
"It ain't—"
"No, I get it." She sat back. "I'm not your type. You like girls like Andrea and—and Lori. I'm just the girl who will forever been the "good friend"."
"You're just upset 'bout your dad. This ain't gonna make you feel better."
"Then what will?"
"Carol?" Annette stepped outside. "Oh, there you are."
"What?" She didn't turn to look at her mom.
"Jo and Hershel want to see you." She bent down beside them. "Are you two all right?"
"Sure." Daryl noticed Carol turn her head away from him and her mom.
"We're fine. I'll be in there in a minute." She tucked hair behind her ear.
She sniffed the air then groaned. "Oh, my God! Carol Suzanne Harrison, have you been drinking?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Because you're barely thirteen years old! And I love you! You know how I feel about alcohol! God, what the hell were you thinking?"
"About myself!" She looked at her mother, locking eyes. "I'm sorry I can't be the daughter you want! I'm sorry that I—disappoint you!"
Annette frowned.
"Punish me, I don't even care. What else can you do to me? Withhold affection?"
"Get up." She grabbed her arm. "You are taking a shower and brushing your teeth then we will have a long talk about this when you're sober, because I want you to remember every word!"
"Get off! I stand up by myself!"
Annette hauled her to her feet. "Can you even walk?"
"Yes, I can!" She glared. "As if you care."
"What?"
"Please! You've just been running around, accepting flowers and—and muffin baskets! You—It's like you're just cleaning up after Dad's mess or something! 'Oh, damn, this pool of blood in the driver's seat will make selling his car so hard'!"
Annette slapped Carol across the face then gasped, eyes wide and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh—I am so sorry!"
"I'm sure!" She shoved her mom. "Dad's dead, and—and it's like you don't even care. When have you cried? Do you even cry?"
"Of course I care!" Her eyes filled with tears. "How can you think that I don't?"
"Because!" She had nothing else to add. Her head was starting to ache, and she just wanted to go to bed and never wake up. "You know exactly what I mean!"
She clenched her jaw. "I—"
"Don't make excuses!" she shouted.
Shawn stuck his head out. "Oh, not good."
"Stay out of this!" Carol sent him a glare then turned back to her mom. "You—"
"I have been working!" Annette shouted over her daughter. "I have been distracting myself with—with his funeral arrangements and refreshing drinks and—and going over bills, because—when I stop...it settles, and—and he's really gone." Her voice grew soft.
Carol studied her.
"I didn't mean to hurt you or your brother by not telling you about his accident, I didn't! I just—I didn't want you to remember your father like that." Her voice broke. "I—I'm sorry, Carol, that you thought... I would never..." She paused, trying to calm herself enough to speak, but it was so hard. Finally knowing Carol's thoughts only added to her pain, and she knew Shawn felt similar. She never meant to make them think that, but she hadn't spoken to them about the accident, so what other thoughts would they have? "I just—I couldn't let you see me like that."
"You..." She blinked and suddenly gagged.
"Carol? Are you okay, honey?" She wiped at her eyes.
"I—Oh, God!" She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to quiet the twisting in her stomach, but she couldn't. She moved her hand and threw up on the lawn.
Annette gathered Carol's hair away from her mouth, rubbing her back. "Shawn, a glass of water, please."
"Sure." He disappeared into the house.
Carol heaved again, almost falling to her knees, but her mom held her up.
Annette sighed. "Daryl, we need to talk."
– – –
"I'm Beth Greene as you all know. I'm...Annette's daughter." She took a deep breath, trying not to cry. She promised herself she wouldn't cry. "Umm, we're gathered here today to remember a woman who touched all of our lives in different ways. A woman—a woman who had wisdom beyond her years and blessed our lives by sharin' that wisdom, by guidin' us toward the person she—she knew we were. Every—Um, in her eyes, everyone was an amazin' person. Every—"
Maggie went over to her. "Hey, take it slow."
She took a deep breath. "Anyone who had her in their lives were the—truly blessed—" her voice broke, and Maggie rubbed her arm. She inhaled deeply, wiping away a tear and clearing her throat. "Anyone who had her in their lives were the truly blessed ones. She loved first and nobody wasn't worth her time. To her, everyone was special and beautiful."
Sophia covered her face with her hands, and Daryl rubbed her back with his free hand, Carol gripping the other. He knew what was going through her head, and he knew no words would ease her pain. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how. His mother was just gone. There was no need for a funeral or a wake to remember her, not that there was much to remember. She was...a blur to him. He could barely remember her face, let alone anything else. He couldn't mourn what he didn't remember, but it was different for Carol and Sophia. It was always different, but... Damn it. Why was he so—?
Carol suddenly leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Not today." She moved hair by his ear. "Not tomorrow, not ever." She pressed her forehead to his temple, lacing her fingers through his.
He closed his eyes and nodded. "I love you."
She kissed his temple.
"I don't want to...can't talk 'bout Annette." Maggie looked over their faces. "You all know who she was and words don't fully do her justice. Umm, she had a quote she used to say every day. 'Death leaves heartache no one can heal; love leaves a memory no one can steal'. She used to say it for my mom, Jo—er, Josephine, and for Ethan Harrison, her late husband. Now, I'm going to say it for her."
Carol felt weak-kneed, and she knew the tears would come again the minute she was up there, eulogizing her mother. She stood up nevertheless and walked over to Maggie and Beth. She looked at the people who watched them, and she chuckled softly. "I was supposed to eulogize my mother today, but...uh, I think Beth and Maggie have said it all."
Hershel frowned. What was she doing? He knew Carol had written a beautiful eulogy. Why wasn't she going to say it?
She walked away, not letting Beth and Maggie touch her. She took her seat and set the shawl on her lap, crossing her arms and not touching it. She squeezed her eyes shut, and she heard the piano begin to play the song Beth knew Annette wanted to hear.
"Of all the money that e'er I had, I spent it in good company. And all the harm I've ever done, alas it was to none but me." Beth softly sang, taking Maggie's hand as they began to sing together, "And all I've done for want of wit to mem'ry now I can't recall...so fill to me the parting glass. Good night and joy be to you all."
"So fill to me the parting glass and drink a health whate'er befalls. And gently rise and softly call, good night and joy be to you all." Shawn walked up the aisle, freshly shaved, in a black suit.
Beth and Maggie both let out a small laugh at the sight of him, and he ran over to them, giving them a quick, but tight hug at the same time, frowning when he didn't see Carol. He didn't have time to question it, because they still had more to sing.
"Of all the comrades that e'er I had...are sorry for my going away. And all the sweethearts that e'er I've had would wish me one more day to stay. But since it fell unto my lot that I should rise and you should not. I gently rise and softly call. Good night and joy be to you all."
He gripped one of Beth's hand and one of Maggie's, giving a nod to Sasha. His mom chose a strange person to speak to him, but he got the message, loud and clear.
"Fill to me the parting glass and drink a health whate'er befalls. And gently rise and softly call, good night and joy be to you all..."
The seat beside Daryl sat empty with only a folded shawl in the center.