Chapter 2 - Death Never Ends on a Happy Note

I woke up with a start not knowing if it was from my recurring nightmare or due to the annoyingly loud sound of a riding mower outside my bedroom window.  Damn!  I pulled my pillows over my head, trying to drown out the noise.  So much for beauty sleep; it’s only seven thirty for crying out loud!  I give up attempting to doze some more and push the pillows back and roll over so I stared up at the ceiling, laying there, letting the morning sunlight warm my body, bringing me back to life, taking my negative and sad thoughts away as the heat radiated off of my skin.

After a few minutes, I get up and walk to my bedroom window.  I look out to find myself eyeing this rather mesmerizing muscular and tanned man riding that very same mower that provided me with my earlier rude awakening, making it look cool.  Is it hot in here or is it me?  Truth was that the temperature was rising quickly.  It was June and you would have thought it was the end of July or beginning of August with the current heat wave that had rolled in across the region.  Granny would have loved a day like today.

“The hotter, the better.”  She used to say.  I smiled at the memory of her voice and remembered how famous she was for her various witty remarks.  I stared off into the distance, watching the surf come in on the water and took a deep breath.  My mind floated back to the guy on the mower.  As I looked down, following the sound, I found a pair of bright green eyes staring up at me, his jaw hanging ajar.  In shock, I jumped back, realizing I was standing there in my light grey silk nighty and pulled my sheer curtains in front of me, blocking his view.  No.  It couldn’t be.  Christian?  It was time to get back to reality and get on with this dreadful day.  Ugh!

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From the corner of my eye, I had noticed something shimmering above me as I was mowing the lawn.  I look up and thought I had seen an angel.  There she stood, old Mrs. Reed’s granddaughter, Amelia.  She had changed so much throughout the years.  I hadn’t seen her since high school honestly and I wasn’t her favorite person back then either.  She had made that abundantly clear.  In high school, I was such a jerk.  I had put her down continuously only to keep my image up.  Don’t get me wrong, there was no awkward phase with this girl.  She was beautiful the day I met her when we were six years old and just as so as I watched her standing there, in that window, all grown up.

I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself when her gaze came my way and she realized that she wasn’t dressed.  She jumped back, pulling the curtains in front of her, blocking my view.  I couldn’t help the racing my heart was doing in my chest.

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I was glad I had brought my one and only little black dress with me.  Although it suited the occasion, I was far from enthusiastic about having to wear it again.  This dress was a memory in itself.  I smirked at the sight of it in contempt.  I had worn it when I was stood up at my favorite restaurant, only to head home and find my live-in boyfriend of three years, Adam, gone with the wind.  That’s if the wind had blond hair, slender legs and a chest that would make any man wish he could set up shop in there and every woman wish they were her; it was Sarah, his assistant.  What is it with men and their assistants?  You’d think it was only something that existed in movies but I was proven otherwise.  Perhaps it’s a Mom complex of sorts where the man subconsciously craves a mother figure and so he jumps ship from his current relationship only to end up with someone else that likes to play Mommy.  Everyone who knows me knows that I am hardly anyone's mother.  I mean, I have no qualms in being nurturing and loving but I'm not looking at entertaining a man's every whim and need, running to his beck and call.  Argh!  Men!  Can't live with them, can't live without!  I really thought that he was the one.  Clearly, he wasn’t.

The funeral was beautiful and quite small.  Only a few of Granny’s friends remained and were capable of making it to the burial.  Everyone was welcomed at the house afterward seeing as it seemed like the entire town had brought me food over the course of the last few days.  There was a slew of selection and far more than what a single person needed to feed their self with.

Soon enough, I found myself with a house full of people.  The feeling of loneliness not quite subsiding; if anything, claustrophobia was beginning to sink in.  After fetching a bottle of water for myself, I escaped to the back yard for a quick breather.  I sat on the bottom step, my head resting on my knees.

“I miss you.”  I whispered as I felt a tear making its way out of the corner of my eye.  I fought the ever increasing urge to cry and took a few deep breaths to keep the levy from breaking.  The sound of a throat clearing made me jump and turn to see who it was.  I found old Mrs. Atler, one of Granny’s closest friends.  She came to let me know that The Old Ladies Club, as Granny used to label them, was heading out and that there were only a few people left inside.  I picked myself up from the back step and followed Mrs. Atler, to the front door, hugging her and the rest of the Old Ladies, bidding them farewell all the while forcing my best 'I’ll be alright and keep in touch' smile.

When the last of the visitors had left, I felt a sense of relief; the relief that this awful day of farewells was almost over.  I had begun tidying up when my doorbell rang.  Wow, ‘my’ doorbell.  I thought to myself.  As much as this place felt like home to me, I never once thought of this house ever officially becoming mine.  A house that was once filled with so much joy and laughter, friends and family; it was now all mine and I couldn’t help but feel envious of everyone around me because they all had something I no longer did.  They had the love of someone, unlike me; I was alone; utterly and incredibly alone.

I made my way to the door and opened it slowly and found myself face-to-face with a pretty blond girl, roughly my age in appearance.  She didn’t look familiar but she had a bright smile.

“Hi!”  She said in a bubbly manner and extended her hand my way.  I took it and she shook it, holding onto my hand firmly like a vice.  It took everything in me to hide the pain from my face, masking it with a small smile.  “I’m Trish.”  She finally introduced herself.

“Do I know you?”  I asked her with slight hesitation.  She shook her head, no.  I furrowed my brow in confusion and then a beautiful salt and pepper haired woman came up behind her.  “Mrs. Masterson!”  I would recognize that woman anywhere.  She pushed herself past Trish and came in to give me a long hug.  I stood there, Trish looking at us as I let Mrs. Masterson hold me.  I closed my eyes and took in her scent.  My God!  That’s the same perfume Mom used to wear.  As I saw visions of my mother dance across my mind, she released me from her loving embrace and held my hands, taking my appearance in.  I couldn't help but notice the look of concern on her face.

“I’m so sorry we haven’t been around to visit lately, Sweetheart.”  She tells me.  I give her a reassuring smile.

“Thank you, Mrs. Mast…”  And she held a soft hand up to stop me.

“Please call me Gloria.”  She tells me.

“Gloria.”  I repeated with a look of slight embarrassment.

“I see that Trish hasn’t hesitated to introduce herself.”  Gloria looked at me with a slight hint of exasperation in her eye.  I moved sideways, indicating for the two ladies to come in and have a seat.

“Can I get you both anything to drink or eat?”  I asked.

“No thank you.”  Mrs. Master…  Um…  Gloria tells me.  I nodded in acceptance.  “We only dropped by to make sure that you were okay.”

“That was very sweet of you.”  I tell her, eyeing Trish.  “So how’s the family?”  I find myself asking, changing the subject altogether, in the hopes that I’d discover who this Trish girl was.  It's not like I had that much time to socialize and get reacquainted with anyone since my return.

Trish happens to be Christian’s current girlfriend.  By the looks of things, Gloria didn’t quite like the girl.  I found myself wondering why but perhaps it was for the same reason that she annoyed me; the way she incessantly tried too hard to make the conversation about herself, the fake-ness to her demeanor and smile.  As hard as she tried to mask her true self, nothing could warm the exterior to this ice princess allure that surrounded her aura.  Looks like Christian hasn’t changed.

After Gloria and Trish left, I finished with my tidying up of the house.  I headed upstairs to my room and changed into some lounging shorts and a loose tank top.  I headed for my ensuite bathroom and took a long hard look at myself in my mirror.  It was time to relax; time to move on.  As I walked by Granny’s bedroom, her door creaked open on its own.  I reached for the knob and pushed the door open, glancing at the room’s contents.  I saw my guitar sitting on its stand, in the corner.  I smiled to myself as I remembered a few nights before, when Granny was on her deathbed.  We had finished a very emotional talk about what she wanted for me, what she saw me being able to achieve.  She finished with a request for me to play her our song; Sarah McLachlan’s Angel.  Somehow, I felt my Granny's presence still in this very room with me.  Don’t ask me how but the urge to play that exact song washed over me.  So I sat on Granny’s bed, closed my eyes, breathed a long soothing breath and began to strum.  Sure the song sounds better on the piano but that’s one instrument I wasn’t ready to go back to; not yet anyway.  I finished the song at nearly a whisper as tears rolled down my face all the while picturing the angelic and smiling face of my grandmother’s as she took her final few breaths when I had strummed the last few notes four days prior.

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I stood outside my parents’ house, waiting for Trish so we could leave and found myself listening to a beautiful voice.  I heard the faint sound of a guitar being strummed and the angelic voice rolled into the song’s chorus.  Nearing the end, I stood there, feeling all the emotions that were being projected through the voice I knew belonged to Amelia.

“What are you smiling at?”  Trish looked around herself.  I honestly had no clue why I was with this woman.  Well, I knew of one reason but even the sex wasn’t that great anymore.  I’ve been back from the city for a few weeks now and having Trish tag along no longer felt right.  I knew my mother didn’t approve of her and I found my father spending his time around us, clenching his jaw.

“Nothing.”  I said looking away from the bedroom window I had seen Amelia at this morning.  “Are you ready?”  Trish nodded and we proceeded to get into the car.  I drove off wondering why life had led me down this path.  One thing was for sure, I was curious about how Amelia had made out for herself after all these years.