Magnolia

e l e v e n

Emma

"Shhhh...go to sleep" I soothed, my hand moving in slow circles on Luke's back. "Shhhh" I breathed, watching as his breathing steadied, slowing. He was finally asleep, soft snores slipping between his lips. It had been three days since Luke's father died and I have been sleeping at his house to help out. The two of them were in a bad state, which was expected. But that didn't mean it hurt any less.  

I haven't been able to get him to go to school so Sam has been brining over his work, and occasionally mine which was very kind. I did both of our school work because Luke was in no state to work. I could barely get him to sleep through the night. 

Walking towards the door, pausing for a moment as I watched him sleep. It was nice, seeing him so peaceful. I quietly shut his door, creeping downstairs as I ignored the loud creaking that echoed in the silent house. 

Moving to the kitchen, I gathered all the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. I scrubbed the counters and cleaned the table. I then sat down in the office, grabbing the phone before I  rang the funeral home. "Are we still set for Friday?" I asked, pressing a hand to my forehead as a dull headache began to bloom.

"Yes everything is set, and the casket and tombstone are set as well" the man replied, a soft sigh escaping me. At least one thing seemed to be going our way. My eyes became watery at the thought of watching the casket being lowered into the ground. 

"May I ask why the woman of the house isn't planning this?" the man asked softly, a flare of rage burning so strong that my hands curled into fists.

"The woman of the house is grieving the loss of her husband," I said in an angry tone, breathing heavily through my nose. "Grief isn't one size fits all. I'd expect you to know that better than anyone."

"I'm sorry miss, I didn't mean to offend you," the man apologized, quickly trying to make up for his slip in judgment.

The sincerity of his voice buzzed in my ears, a long sigh escaping me. "It's fine. We'll see you Friday." And with that, I hung up. I sat at the desk, rubbing my temples as my headache only seemed to intensify. I had been worrying so much that I thought I might explode.

"Thank you," a voice muttered from the hallway, my heart jumping as I spun around in the chair. Mrs. Smith leaned against the doorframe, grasping a glass of whiskey in her trembling hand. Her matted, terry-cloth bathrobe hung loosely on her, tears still staining her face. Greasy hair stuck up in every direction on the left, the right side matted to her head. It looked like it hadn't been washed in days.

"No problem," I said, offering the gentlest smile I could. "Some people are just so inconsiderate," I muttered with a shake of my head, referring to the funeral home director. I guess when you are around death so much, you become almost immune.

"Not just for that," she said in a quiet voice, staring into the whiskey glass as she swirled the caramel liquid inside. "I mean, for everything. Cooking our meals, cleaning the house, paying the bills," she paused, allowing her grief-ridden eyes to meet mine. "For taking such good care of Luke" she added, a tear running down her face as her stare broke away.

"Mrs. Smith-"

"He was so lonely. His father was always away and I buried myself in work and ignored him when he needed me most. He was so alone, and I didn't even notice" she laughed shamefully, shaking her head in disgust. "But then he found you. Did you know that all his grades went up? Did you know he made the first line on the lacrosse team? I don't know how but you have a power over him. He really loves you. And now I can say that I know you love him to" she smiled sadly, I imagine remembering the man she loved and how she'd never see him again.