Project Fat Suit

Eighteen: White Roses

Kurt and I didn’t say anything, like we usually did.

Her death was still fresh in both of our minds.

Dad sighed when he realized he wouldn’t get either Kurt or I to talk and placed the white roses on Mom’s grave. She had always liked them. I didn’t—they were the color of death.

“Merry Christmas, Mel,” Dad used Mom’s old nickname as he put one hand on her gravestone. “It’s been hard without you. No more delicious, gourmet dinners, or cookies from scratch. My bed is always cold and the house is dull—”

I couldn’t take it anymore. Not wanting to hear anymore, I turned around and walked from my mom’s grave. I hated being reminded of what I don’t have any more since my mother’s death. Breathing deeply, I tried to calm myself down before I started crying.

Stopping at the familiar tree, I turned around and watched my dad. My poor dad. He was actually in a marriage that wasn’t failing and then this had to happen to him. I watched as he kissed his hand and placed it on the gravestone. He loved her. He still loves her.

Regaining my composure, I headed to where my family was again.

“Okay, kids, we’re leaving,” my dad said sadly as he stepped away from the gravestone.

“Dad, can I stay here with Mom?” I asked quietly. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“Sure, Rena,” he replied softly and surprised that I would willingly stay in a cemetery. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

He gave me a hug and left with Kurt, who was still silent. I waited until there figures were nothing but tiny, black dots in the distance before I crouched down to my mother’s grave.

“Hey, Mom,” I said awkwardly. This is the first time I’ve ever done this. “Merry Christmas.”

I readjusted Mom’s white roses as a way to preoccupy them. Sighing, I dropped down to my butt and hugged my knees to my chest.

“So, Sherry’s good,” I started as I looked at the gravestone. “And I recently found out that she’s one of my classmates’ grandmother. Sherry won’t stop talking about how he and I are the perfect couple and whatnot. But enough about him,” I tried changing subjects. I’m pretty sure my mom doesn’t want to hear about him.

“Well, actually. One more thing about him—his name’s Uranus.” At that, I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. “Well, it’s his middle name. His first name is Trent, but I’m used to calling him Uranus. He doesn’t seem to mind. I actually used to call him Cashier Guy because I met him at a grocery store, but yeah.”

“His brother is absolutely adorable, but I can’t help but pity him, Mom. He doesn’t even know his parents are dead,” I sighed again. This was getting hard. “He thinks they’re on the moon. I-I told him you were there too.” I smiled sadly at the memory.

“Mom, will this ever get any easier?” I asked her, not really expecting a reply. “I miss you so much. Heck, everyone misses you. Kurt tries to be strong, but I can see his pain every morning when he’s sitting at the kitchen table and sees the picture of you on the opposite wall. I-I don’t know how to get over your death. I don’t think I ever will,” I ended. My bottom lip started to quiver as memories of my mom flooded back into my head—her smile, her hugs, her borderline-annoying optimisms.

I could feel the hot tears fall from my eyes, a contrast from the chill weather. I let them fall as I stared at her grave again. She deserved to live. No one deserved life more than she did.

My tears were starting to blur my vision and I wiped them off fiercely, but they wouldn’t stop coming. I buried my face on my knees.

Suddenly, I heard a twig snap from my left. I quickly adjusted myself so I was facing the opposite direction. I didn’t anyone to see me crying.