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[ 1984. August ]
FROM THE VERY MOMENT HER EYES open in the morning, Mary-Jane knows that this is going to be the worst day of her life. Steve has already gotten out of bed, and that makes her feel even worse. She can hear him showering in the adjacent bathroom, figuring he must've gotten up and decided to get ready. She doesn't want to get out of bed. Every inch of her body, every atom, every molecule is screaming at her not to get out, but she knows she has to. Everyone is expecting her. She wouldn't miss her brother's funeral for the world.
She stays in bed for a few moments, eyes trained on the large tree outside his bedroom window, how the sun makes it way through the branches, each individual leaf. Lost in her own head, she doesn't notice Steve walking back into the bedroom. "Did I wake you?" He asks. She snaps out of it with a startle, looking at him with slight shock before her expression softens.
"No," she replies looking out the window, having to squint because the sun is so bright. "The sun did."
"That damned sun," Steve says with weak humor, realizing that now may not be the time. He exhales quietly. "You feeling okay though?"
"Yeah, actually. I feel pretty good." She replies and for the first time in a long whole, it's true. She does feel okay. More okay than she's felt since the entire showdown at the mall. Today of all days.
He nods, rather surprised by her reply but he believes her. It's a default answer, she always promises the same thing but this time it's different. This time it's true, he can tell. "Good. That's good. My mom steamed your dress last night after you fell asleep so it's hanging downstairs."
"Oh," she looks down at her fingers, finding that she's trembling just ever so slightly. "She didn't have to do that."
"Yeah I know, but she wanted to. Said it was wrinkly. You know how she is." He says with a soft laugh as he slips into a pair of black trousers.
She manages a smile. "Well that was kind of her."
He tilts his head to the side. "You should tell that to her, boost her ego a little, she could probably use it."
She laughs quietly, trying to hold it back because she shouldn't laugh. It feels wrong. She shouldn't be happy, at least not today. "I just might."
