chapter 9; pouring one out for the homie
The warm breeze gently enveloped me as I stood outside the entrance. It was empty and quiet, no one dare making a sound to disturb the peace. I dug in my pockets to grab my wallet, grabbing a few spare coins and placed them on the rusty gate.
I stepped into the graveyard, my feet taking me to where I need to be. A basket swung by my side, it's weight hitting my leg with every step. I looked around at all the gravestones, pausing at some of the older ones to pay my respect.
I always pause a little longer at the older ones. Their family is long gone, their descendants probably not knowing about them. How long has it been since someone came to visit and pay their respect? I give each a moment of silence as I walk along the gravel path.
"Good afternoon Harper." I greet as I walk up to her headstone. Her family gave Harper a pretty grave marker, styled after Victorian graves. She loved tradition and older customs, and so her family tried to do something that she would like. It had a cross coming out the top of the headstone, while flowers were engraved around her name.
Harper Daae
August 25, 1989
November 16, 2005
Today is the Tomorrow you were so worried about Yesterday
I set the basket next to her, grabbing the blanket from under my arm to unravel it and place it down in front of the headstone.
"I'm sorry I'm a little late, with a new job I'm not often in town. You're looking good, though. Haven't moved very far, huh?" I joked, smoothing out the corner of the blanket.
"You would love my job. It's very exciting, very scary. Just last week I was almost blown up." I start to tell the story as I take out my lunch and place it on the blanket.
"And when we found him, there was a 15 second countdown for his bomb. When I tell you I have never run faster," I laugh, continuing on "Well minus the time we were sneaking out of your house. Remember when we heard someone in your kitchen? It really wasn't great that your room was above the kitchen, and that we had to go down over the kitchen window to sneak out. But man did it contribute to the thrill!"
As I opened the bottle of wine I brought, I told her about my team. Each member's lives, how they acted, how smart they were and the fun we've had. As I poured myself a drink I also poured a little on the ground in front of her grave. I don't need her haunting me because I didn't give her some as well.
I don't believe in ghosts. I don't believe in a higher power or god, but I always try to be respectful. I can see how comforting it is to believe in something, and I sometimes wish I had that to fall back on. Still, it won't hurt to think that Harper is somehow listening.
"Didn't expect to see you here." I raised my head to see Rossi approaching, taking off his sunglasses.
"Oh, hi there." I put down the wine bottle.
"Harper Daae. A friend?" He asks, motioning to the grave. I looked at her headstone and nodded.
"Care to sit for a picnic?" I offered. I didn't expect him to accept, no one typically wants to sit with someone at another's grave. To my surprise he accepted, sitting on the blanket across from me.
"I didn't bring another wine glass, but you're free to have my glass. I'll drink out of the bottle." I rambled. I'm not used to talking with the team outside of work. I don't know how to make conversation, I hoped he would take the lead for most of it.
"How come you're here? Visiting someone?" I asked. I hadn't seen anyone else when I entered, but he could've been doing the same as I was. He accepted the glass and took a sip.
"Yeah I am. I'm visiting my first wife. She, uh, passed away a few years ago." He gave me a tight lipped grin. I can't imagine losing a partner like that. I gave him my condolences.
"16 is a young age to pass away. Did you know her?" Rossi asked. I nodded in response. I didn't mind sharing my past, it was a part of my life and it no longer hurt as much to talk about.
"She is my best friend. We were leaving a party, us and a friend. Suddenly a drunk driver came out of nowhere and hit the driver's side, where Harper was driving. She was D.O.A. I held her hand as she passed, she told me that she loved me, and to tell her parents she was sorry." I took a swig of the bottle, cringing at the taste. It was cheap and you could tell.
"Even as she was dying she didn't want to get in trouble. I'm sorry, no one should go through that." Rossi said.
"Yeah. Still, it made me who I am and it's influenced me a lot." a beat of silence passed between us.
"My wife had ALS." I turned to look at him. He met my eyes and explained. "We had been divorced for some time. One day we meet up for breakfast, I invite her over for dinner, and she told me. She had already had it for a year or so. I felt hurt, and guilty that I haven't been there for her.
"She asked me to help her go on her own terms. She was adamant, she didn't want to die in a hospital. I held her as she died, she told me that I was one of the best things to happen to her. I understand how difficult it is." He finished, giving me a meaningful look.
I didn't know what to say, I didn't expect that. Rossi always seems so upbeat, like nothing ever affects him. It was nice to hear him say that, it's not often that someone else took another's final words. We sat in the silence, enjoying the breeze and the sound of the birds as well as the presence of the other. I felt a connection with Rossi now, and I felt safe confiding in him. It was nice to feel accepted by the team.
"I was just telling Harper about our cases, do you have any from your early days you could tell us?" I asked him, watching him smile. He shook his head as he chuckled.
"Do I have stories? Adeline I've written 5 books, I've got enough stories to keep us here until dawn."
I grin and shuffle closer to Harper's gravestone, leaning my head against it as I take a sip from the wine bottle. Rossi jumped immediately into a story, using his hands to accentuate his points. We spent the next few hours there, enjoying the stories and the breeze. It felt like Harper was there, enjoying the stories and the wine.