My Little Friend

Chapter 14

"And clean up after," Gladys said, but Lynn Rose paid her no mind for she was already too absorbed in her work.

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It had been a delicate decision and had it been up to Gladys alone, she would have chosen not to do this. She didn't want to accidentally trigger memories too distressing for Lynn Rose to cope with. She began talking about her mother less and less. An eternity had gone by since her mother died in her four-year-old world. While Gladys couldn't go anywhere without taking Lynn Rose along and she cried many times after Elvis called, Lynn Rose was making phenomenal progress every day.

But this was their last chance to do this for eighteen long months. Lynn Rose was four and a half now but once they returned she would be nearly six. Maybe it would be better to wait until then, as they changed and grew so rapidly at that age. But now it was too late to turn back—short legs blurred to keep pace but Lynn Rose didn't question their trek across the cemetery.

Gladys stopped when they reached the plot in question. Lynn Rose's hand slipped from hers as the little girl stepped forward and lowered to one knee. It was a chilly day in early November, the earth was damp from an overnight drizzle and the muddy residue seeped into the weave of Lynn Rose's little dress. Gladys refrained from fussing over it for it was of little importance.

A question glinted in the dark eyes that rose to meet Gladys' waiting gaze.

"Why are we here?" Lynn Rose asked, her furrowed brow evidence that confusion had a firm hold.

"Well, sweet girl this is a stone that was put up for your mama to remember her by," Gladys said, then waited in anticipation of whatever reaction would seize her.

"What's it say?" Lynn Rose whispered, tiny fingers tracing the outline of the inscription.

"It says 'In Loving Memory of Elizabeth Ann McDonald. November 1933 to August 1958."

"What's that mean?"

"That's when she was born and when she died. And over here..." Gladys pointed out the grave beside Elizabeth's. "That's in memory of your daddy."

Lynn Rose looked over ever so briefly before once again tracing the writing on Elizabeth's headstone. Being confronted with her parents final resting place, she was perfectly stoic.

They sat in silence for minutes, Lynn Rose's dress and tights becoming soaked through.

"I don't 'member," Lynn Rose then said.

"You don't remember your mommy?"

"Not real good."

"But you keep tellin' us about her."

"But I don't 'member good," Lynn Rose lamented and Gladys heart ached, because having never known Elizabeth in person, there was one so much they could tell her. One day Lynn Rose would have questions about the type of person her mother had been and they wouldn't be able to tell her. All she'd ever have of her parents was two headstones, a picture and memories that were already fuzzy around the edges.

"Can we take them?" Lynn Rose asked.

"Take what, sugar?"

"Them," Lynn Rose repeated, as though emphasis meant clarity. "To remember."

Gladys didn't realize what she was talking about until little hands gestures between the headstones. "Oh no, we can't. We can't move them to—"

"They're mine," Lynn Rose burst out suddenly. "They're my mommy and daddy."

"They are your mommy and daddy but they've gone to heaven now. This is just..." Gladys trailed off when Lynn Rose collapsed onto the wet ground without a warning. A scream tore out of her as she kicked her limbs. Lynn Rose's howling entreats were continuous echoed bouncing around the cemetery.