Flashcards On The Wall

Chapter 1: Funeral

I wait patiently on the couch, in the same position I've been in for an hour. The clock ticks away but I refuse to look at it. That will only make me anxious. I'm early; he never is. Tash already tried to talk me out of it, her attempts failed. I wait. He will show up. A knock on the door makes me check the time. Fifteen minutes early. That's a first. Standing, I straighten my black dress knowing I'll never wear it again. After today, it will go in the trash, likely with the matching ankle boots. An outfit I'll want no memory of. A day I will try to forget as soon as it's over. I feel guilty that my impression when I see Gabriel dressed up is that he looks good. Black suit, white collared shirt and a black tie. I've never seen him wear anything besides jeans or workout clothes.

"Ready Amelia?" he asks.

"Yes," I answer.

I look at my reflection in the small, circular mirror hanging on the wall opposite the front door. A low, messy bun was the best I could do. I know the wind later will wreak havoc on the loose strands falling around the frame of my face. It doesn't matter. I put on my sunglasses and close the door behind me. The sun is out but the wind is cold and picking up. I'm thankful for my black cardigan and favorite gray infinity scarf. The navy roses on the scarf were the reason I chose it. I remember Mom was with me the day I bought it. I don't think she'd approve of what I'm doing today. I didn't tell her. I do my best to put her and everything else out of my mind. I'll need all the help I can get. Heading towards the car, I consider if this is a mistake. I hesitate before opening the car door then remind myself that this was my idea. The ride is quiet to say the least. For a while, neither one attempts to start a conversation. Gabriel is the first to talk.

"Where's Tash today?" Gabriel asks.

"Sean convinced her to go on hike," I reply.

"Really? With her lipstick that she can't be without and the heels she wears even at barbecues, it's pretty hard to imagine her hiking."

I smile when I think about it. That's Tash. You will never find her underdressed. She prides herself on that.

"On the other hand, people will surprise you. We know that much," he concludes.

Two hours later we reach our destination. Gabriel parks behind the church and turns to me.

"Last chance to change our minds," Gabriel says.

I undo my seatbelt, "This is why we drove here."

Gabriel goes around the car to open my door, "We can hang back. Tell me if you change your mind and we'll leave."

I am very aware of the fact that I missed Gabriel. I don't mean him waiting on me or opening doors, this right here was a first. It's mostly just his presence I miss. Which is ironic because though Gabriel is physically next to me at this moment, mentally I don't know where he is.

The church is almost completely full. I don't think I remember the last time I was in a church. Maybe when my brother was baptized? It's been a few years. Gabriel greets some people he knows on the way inside. When he sees his parents near the front, Gabriel excuses himself but returns quickly after. He said we'd hang back, but we almost had no choice with the limited seating available. I'm at the edge of the pew thankful there's only Gabriel to my right. He gives me enough space so that I don't feel suffocated. Still, with the number of people passing to my left and others asking if they could squeeze through, I find my breathing becoming shallow. My fingertips resting on my forehead, I focus all my energy on deep breaths. I try to count in my head. It doesn't work. I close my eyes. That also doesn't work. Gabriel notices and clears his throat to get my attention.

"Need to count?" he offers me his hand. I look at his open palm and then his eyes. Placing my hand on top of his, I watch our fingers entwine.

"One...Two...Three...Four..." Which each number my breathing slows, my breaths get deeper. It worked. We stop at ten and Gabriel waits until I loosen my grip to let go.

"Thank you," I tell him. He nods.

I avoid looking at the picture on the easel at the front of the church, the one next to the casket. The priest talks of the young life that was lost. Most will call it a tragedy. That's probably what everyone here thinks. Everyone except Gabriel and me. I know I can go. I know I can physically walk away and be done. I consider it. I'm tempted. Why don't I? What stops me? Am I trying to prove something? I go back and forth in my head. When the mass is over, we find Gabriel's parents. Gabriel's dad has brown hair, with dark brown eyes, almost black. He is a little shorter and while physically fit, not in as good shape as his son. Gabriel's mom has blonde hair that reaches just past her shoulders, with a thin, small frame. Her eyes were what I noticed the most; they're just like Gabriel's. Only hers are red and exhausted from crying right now.

"You must be Amelia, right?" she asks.

She's heard of me?

"Yes," I answer.

"I'm Jackie and this is my husband Kenneth," she says.

Gabriel's dad shakes my hand, "Nice to meet you."

"You too," I reply.

"I wish it were under better circumstances," Jackie adds.

"I can't imagine the pain you and your family are going through," I say.

It wasn't a technically a lie. I don't know if I was sorry Charlie was dead, but I did feel bad that these people were suffering because of it.

Jackie reaches for my hand and holds it. I look at Gabe then back at her. It is obvious she wants to start crying again. I place my other hand above both of ours.

"You're going to get through this," I tell her.

"I can't help thinking... it's just like with my Matthew," Jackie replies.

I can't help thinking this right here is why parents should never have to go through losing a child. The pain doesn't seem bearable, but it happens. Parents lose children. Children lose parents. Or siblings. Friends. Significant others. Loved ones are lost and you're expected to accept it and move on. But how do you do that?

"I didn't know Matthew, but I think if he was here, he would say to be strong because he is always with you and you're going to be all right. At least, that's what I'd want my mom to know if something were to happen to me," I tell Jackie.

Instead of telling me something back like that I'm wrong or how could I know, and let's be honest, those are perfectly adequate responses, I certainly wouldn't be offended. Who would blame her? I wouldn't. After all, what business do I have commenting on her grief? Jackie hugs me and says thank you. I can tell Gabe had half a mind to stop her, but I think we both know she needed it.

"Did Amelia get a chance to meet your aunt?" Jackie asks Gabriel.

"No, maybe later. She's preoccupied now," Gabriel replies.

"That's true," Jackie agrees bringing a tissue up to eye.

Let me know what you think so far. I appreciate feedback!