A Handful of Daffodils (Forgotten Series, #7)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Part Two

Dinner passed like that, us taking turns to feed Maeve as we ate and talked about Chrissie. I told stories to both Maeve and Menza, letting them both know the kind of female we were celebrating. Menza was right there, asking more more questions whenever the air grew heavy as I felt that guilt and sadness creeping up. I appreciated that, I truly did. The first bottle of wine depleted quickly and Menza's cheeks were flushed and she looked happy as her eyes twinkled as she looked at me.

I was even starting to feel a distinct buzz as we then got Maeve cleaned up and put down for her bed time. Once we were done that I grabbed the other bottle and we cleaned the dishes and then spoke more. Words about Chrissie seemed to pour out of me. I talked about how much I loved her, how much I missed her, how I believed she was far too good for me. Menza listened, standing beside me as she watched me when she could, taking in everything and laughing at some of the stories I told.

I found myself on the couch, Menza sitting close to me as we flipped through a scrapbook. Some of the pictures I had never seen before as I took another drink of wine. My head was nearly swimming but in a good way. I felt happy, sad yes, but happy too. "Where did you get this?" Some of the pictures were ones of Chrissie I hadn't even been aware of.

"Edith made it for me when I talked about-" She gave a small hiccup, her cheeks flushing.

"No more wine for you." I chuckled as I looked at her and her cheeks flushed darker. "You are getting drunk." I winked at her and she puffed her cheeks out slightly before dissolving into giggles that made my heart hump hard in my chest.

"Just a little bit." She made a pinching motion with her hands before she reached up and tugged at the elastics holding her bun in place. "Edith made it for me when I told Dana about today." She gestured to the book as she gave a small groan of relief as her curls tumbled down around her and she rubbed at her scalp. "I knew I should have braided it. Messy buns don't work." She muttered it out slightly as she scratched as her head with both hands, sending the curls nearly everywhere. "But that's why the pictures are in the craft house and some outings." She reached out and tapped on one of the pages.

I pulled my gaze away from where the curls haloed around her in that black cloud. "That's why I haven't seen them before." I said it gently as I finished off my wine glass and poured another before looking over the picture of Chrissie laughing, paint on her cheek as she seemed to be painting an old dresser a light blue. It was nice to see her in new pictures. I felt like I had memorized all the ones I had of her.

"The other females all looked for pictures they had of her to add to it. I thought it was really nice of them." Menza reached over for the wine bottle and I held it out of reach with a chuckle. "I'm fine!" She giggled, her cheeks darker and her eyes sparkling. "One more glass, please?" She looked up at me as she asked it and her eyes sparkled so enchantingly that I found myself nodding.

I poured a bit more into her glass before putting the rest into my glass. "There. No more left." I reached out and put the empty bottle on the coffee table. "So enjoy your last glass." I nodded at that and took a heavy swallow, my cheeks feeling a bit warmer. I was feeling pleasantly drunk.

"I never really had much wine before." Menza looked own into the wine glass, swirling it around before taking a sip. "It's good. I can see why Chrissie liked this kind." She nodded before shifting a touch closer, reaching out and flipping the page. I found my eyes staying on her as she did so. The wildness of her curls swayed around her and they made her seemed almost unreal. Like she were a fairy from a realm in a fairytale book. "Oh look!" She giggled as she tapped a picture on the page she flipped. "They painted her baby bump." The giggles continued as she looked up at me a crooked smile on her face. "See?"

It took all I had to pull away from looking at her to look at what she was pointing at. There was Chrissie, a sunflower painted on her belly bump. She wasn't super far along. I could only imagine it was before everything started happening, when the babies started miscarrying. Her grin was so achingly familiar that I swallowed hard. "She was the prettiest thing." I reached out and traced the curve of her face.