...a reunion, of sorts...
The headstone looked old - that caught her by surprise. Standing next to the grave, she traced the worn edges with her eyes, her fingertips itching to feel the cool, smooth stone. How long had it been? Since she had last stood right here, how long had it been? Months? Years?
Shaking her head, she took a step forward. The cold wind tugged at her coat and played with the few tendrils of hair that had pulled loose from her tight ponytail. As she approached the headstone, she glanced absently at the grey sky. It’ll snow soon, she thought. But then her hands were reaching out, and she wasn’t really thinking about anything at all.
With shaking fingers, she bent to caress the worn stone. Her fingers traced the chiseled letters as she dropped to her knees, heedless of the damp soaking into her good slacks. M. A. R. J. O. R. I. E. A. N. D. E. R. S. Loving wife and mother. She knew those words so well - still saw them in her nightmares from time to time. Why did they suddenly feel so foreign? So strange and new?
“Hi, Mom,” she finally managed. Pressing her hand flat on the stone, she flinched as the cold shocked her warm skin. “Sorry I haven’t been by in so long. It’s been hard, you know? What with Bill and the new baby.” She smiled slightly at that, feeling the stone warm under her hand as she talked. “Yeah, we had another baby. A boy this time. We named him Michael - after Dad. Katie loves him to death - not like Jack and I.” She paused and gave a soft laugh. “God, definitely not like Jack and I.”
A car horn honked somewhere behind her, the sound almost lost to the freezing wind. She looked over her shoulder, just barely catching sight of the dark blue SUV through the trees planted next to the road. Still smiling, she turned back to the headstone. “That’s Bill. He’s anxious to get back home and watch the game, but he says hello. You’d be proud of him, Mama. He’s stopped drinking and he even goes garage sale-ing with me some weekends.” There was another honk, followed by a little girl’s voice.
“Mommy! Time to go!”
She looked back and waved, holding up one finger to signal that she’d be there in just a minute. “I gotta run now, Mom. But I’ll be back - more often than I have been.” Putting her fingers to her lips, she kissed them, then pressed them to the headstone. “I love you,” she whispered.
“Mommy! Hurry! Mikey’s hungry!”
Rising and brushing off the legs of her pants, she turned away from the grave - toward the little voice battling the wind.
“I’m coming, Katie,” she called, hurrying away from the headstone, leaving only an indent in the browning grass to prove that she’d been there at all.
Shaking her head, she took a step forward. The cold wind tugged at her coat and played with the few tendrils of hair that had pulled loose from her tight ponytail. As she approached the headstone, she glanced absently at the grey sky. It’ll snow soon, she thought. But then her hands were reaching out, and she wasn’t really thinking about anything at all.
With shaking fingers, she bent to caress the worn stone. Her fingers traced the chiseled letters as she dropped to her knees, heedless of the damp soaking into her good slacks. M. A. R. J. O. R. I. E. A. N. D. E. R. S. Loving wife and mother. She knew those words so well - still saw them in her nightmares from time to time. Why did they suddenly feel so foreign? So strange and new?
“Hi, Mom,” she finally managed. Pressing her hand flat on the stone, she flinched as the cold shocked her warm skin. “Sorry I haven’t been by in so long. It’s been hard, you know? What with Bill and the new baby.” She smiled slightly at that, feeling the stone warm under her hand as she talked. “Yeah, we had another baby. A boy this time. We named him Michael - after Dad. Katie loves him to death - not like Jack and I.” She paused and gave a soft laugh. “God, definitely not like Jack and I.”
A car horn honked somewhere behind her, the sound almost lost to the freezing wind. She looked over her shoulder, just barely catching sight of the dark blue SUV through the trees planted next to the road. Still smiling, she turned back to the headstone. “That’s Bill. He’s anxious to get back home and watch the game, but he says hello. You’d be proud of him, Mama. He’s stopped drinking and he even goes garage sale-ing with me some weekends.” There was another honk, followed by a little girl’s voice.
“Mommy! Time to go!”
She looked back and waved, holding up one finger to signal that she’d be there in just a minute. “I gotta run now, Mom. But I’ll be back - more often than I have been.” Putting her fingers to her lips, she kissed them, then pressed them to the headstone. “I love you,” she whispered.
“Mommy! Hurry! Mikey’s hungry!”
Rising and brushing off the legs of her pants, she turned away from the grave - toward the little voice battling the wind.
“I’m coming, Katie,” she called, hurrying away from the headstone, leaving only an indent in the browning grass to prove that she’d been there at all.