Blackest Night : Omitted
December had been a hard month for Brenda for a very long time by now.
She pushed through it usually, didn't want to make a fuss, stubbornly refused to let grief tear her up life any more than it already had. But for whatever smile she plastered on by the time the Holidays hit in force December 9th would never ever be an easy day.
She remembered more vividly than anything the crunch of the tires on the gravel driveway at Jaime's house, headlights slashing through the dimmed living room. Paco put Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on pause and the three of them glued themselves to the window, watching Brenda's father scale the front steps in large fast strides and buzz the doorbell.
The three of them had been planning a sleepover full of Christmas movies and popcorn and cookies for ages and ages. She was 12 then, too old to be throwing tantrums, but her mother was in the hospital more than she was home now and it left a daughter and father with identical terrible tempers adrift. They fought as a matter of course by then, lashing out at the other the only way they could grasp to work through so much frustration and fear.
When he'd stepped inside with a tight hello to Bianca and ordered Brenda into her shoes and coat without explaination, terse and stiff-faced, she'd thrown her coat at his feet and yelled at him for ruining her sleepover, her weekend, her christmas holidays, her whole LIFE!
And he had he sunk onto one knee in the Reyes's front hallway and crumbled into sobs in front of God and everybody, clutching her up against his chest so tight she couldn't breathe, his hot tears down the side of her neck as he'd choked out "Brenda, baby, mama died at the hospital tonight..."
Four years later when she'd put him in the ground next to her mother she would have given about anything to hear the crunch of gravel under his truck tires coming to take her along for the ride...
It had now been six years without her mother and almost two without her dad. She had hardly been orphaned between Amparo and Jaime and Paco's families scrambling to fill the void, support her, protect her... but it was jarring every time she thought about it, to realize just how much of her life she had left to live without a mother or father to be there and help her, or even just to care about what she was doing with herself.
Everyone in her life had tried so very hard to prevent it, but sometimes there was just no helping the gnawing worry that she would end up totally alone in the end.
But today at least she had a reminder of why she shouldn't feel that way. Paco and Jaime had been pretty adamant about not letting her go by herself when she'd decided she wanted to visit her parents' grave. They'd piled into the Beetlemobile beside her, serious but upbeat, stopped along the way so she should get some flowers and a candle.
The earth felt cold under her knees as she struck the match to light it, but Paco and Jaime's hands on her shoulders were still warm enough.
"I won't make you wait forever guys, I just... wanna stay for a minute."
She pushed through it usually, didn't want to make a fuss, stubbornly refused to let grief tear her up life any more than it already had. But for whatever smile she plastered on by the time the Holidays hit in force December 9th would never ever be an easy day.
She remembered more vividly than anything the crunch of the tires on the gravel driveway at Jaime's house, headlights slashing through the dimmed living room. Paco put Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on pause and the three of them glued themselves to the window, watching Brenda's father scale the front steps in large fast strides and buzz the doorbell.
The three of them had been planning a sleepover full of Christmas movies and popcorn and cookies for ages and ages. She was 12 then, too old to be throwing tantrums, but her mother was in the hospital more than she was home now and it left a daughter and father with identical terrible tempers adrift. They fought as a matter of course by then, lashing out at the other the only way they could grasp to work through so much frustration and fear.
When he'd stepped inside with a tight hello to Bianca and ordered Brenda into her shoes and coat without explaination, terse and stiff-faced, she'd thrown her coat at his feet and yelled at him for ruining her sleepover, her weekend, her christmas holidays, her whole LIFE!
And he had he sunk onto one knee in the Reyes's front hallway and crumbled into sobs in front of God and everybody, clutching her up against his chest so tight she couldn't breathe, his hot tears down the side of her neck as he'd choked out "Brenda, baby, mama died at the hospital tonight..."
Four years later when she'd put him in the ground next to her mother she would have given about anything to hear the crunch of gravel under his truck tires coming to take her along for the ride...
It had now been six years without her mother and almost two without her dad. She had hardly been orphaned between Amparo and Jaime and Paco's families scrambling to fill the void, support her, protect her... but it was jarring every time she thought about it, to realize just how much of her life she had left to live without a mother or father to be there and help her, or even just to care about what she was doing with herself.
Everyone in her life had tried so very hard to prevent it, but sometimes there was just no helping the gnawing worry that she would end up totally alone in the end.
But today at least she had a reminder of why she shouldn't feel that way. Paco and Jaime had been pretty adamant about not letting her go by herself when she'd decided she wanted to visit her parents' grave. They'd piled into the Beetlemobile beside her, serious but upbeat, stopped along the way so she should get some flowers and a candle.
The earth felt cold under her knees as she struck the match to light it, but Paco and Jaime's hands on her shoulders were still warm enough.
"I won't make you wait forever guys, I just... wanna stay for a minute."