A couple of days later it was the day of Harry's funeral.
All morning I've felt off. Although my routine was the same as it normally is. I straightened my hair, pulled it back into a half up half down look, picked out the same black dress that I've worn once before, along with the same stockings.
See how I'm pretending not to know what the reason is?
I do, know what the reason is. But I'm trying really hard not to surface those feelings. Especially today.
Because I was going through the motions at this point. It all felt the same. We lost yet another important person to us. And it never gets any easier.
A warm hand tightened around mine. It snapped me out of my thoughts, and I realized that it was my turn to lay a singular red rose onto his dark coffin.
My stomach tightens as I got closer. The heels I was wearing sink into the soft wet ground as I approach it. I slightly bend down, lying the rose next to the others that were already there.
I pull my black cardigan closer to my body, returning back to my seat. I meet Paul's eyes, and know that it was his turn now. He follows in my footsteps repeating the same motion that I just did.
He takes my hand once again when he sits down. The warmness comforting me more than I thought, which seems to happen a lot.
Today felt like deja vu. In the worst way possible. The dark green canopy shields the soft rain that fell from the sky. Almost as if the universe knew how sad today was going to be. Along with the coffin that sat in the middle, over an empty space in the ground, awaiting to be lowered after we say our goodbyes.
I couldn't help but think about my mom. Not in a selfish way, because today was truly about the Clearwater's. But, because reliving this moment brought me back to a time that I tried to push very far back into my head.
Her grave was just down the way. Plot number two twenty eight. That number is permanently burned into my head. Whenever I see it, it's almost like her way of saying hi to me. Or reminding me that she was still with me.
Sniffles were heard as Sue got up last. She laid a white rose down onto the coffin, touching the outside for a moment to say her final goodbye.
My eyes water at the sight. I look away, trying my hardest not to let the tears spill. But my eyes somehow find their way to her grave. I could see it from here, sticking out from the rest. It was calling my name.
I swallow hard as I look back at Sue. A singular tear drips from my eye, and I reach to quickly wipe it away. She raises a tissue to her nose as she hangs her head low. While walking back to her seat, Seth helps her sit down. He wraps an arm around her as the priest in front of us says a few final words.
Paul's thumb swipes back and forth on top of my hand. Reminding me once again that he was here for me, which was nice. I've never been comforted like this about such a dark topic.
When the burial ceremony ended, everyone was told that we were welcome back at Sue's for a lunch. Most start to go back to their cars, that were all lined up on the pavement a couple yards away. However, I felt as though I needed some space before I got back into the car.
"I'll be right back," I told Paul.
"Are you okay?" He asks, not letting go of my hand until I answered.
"I'm fine, I just, need to do something before I leave," I explain, unlatching his fingers from mine.
I begin to walk toward plot two twenty eight. The anticipation was eating me alive as I did. I felt guilty for not returning back here in a long time. But every time I did, I felt like I was a hot mess.
I was hoping today wouldn't be the case.
My eyes burn into her name once I arrive. I let out a shaky breath, staring down at the grave below me.
Sarah Grace Black
A loving mother and wife.
June 18, 1960 - December 7th 2000
I let out a sigh as I continue to stare down at her name. She was right here. For the first time in a very long time, she was right in front of me.
"Hi," I whisper softly. "I'm sorry I haven't visited recently. I don't have an excuse, other than the fact that I couldn't. It hurt too much for me to come here again."
My eyes dance over the graves next to hers, noticing that there were bouquets of flowers resting against them. Along with a candle or two.
Well now I felt like a shit kid.
"I'll bring you flowers the next time I'm here," I explain to her, like she was standing in front of me, "I promise that'll be soon. It took a lot for me to walk over here, so, I'm sure it'll get easier the next time I try."
I glance over at the cars, to see that Paul was talking to Jake and my dad. They were the only two cars left.
"Harry Clearwater has passed on," I explain, "His funeral was today. That's, why I'm here."
I wanted to sit down, on the wet grass in front of her. And just stay a while. It felt therapeutic to talk to her, I honestly wasn't sure why I didn't come here more often. I was always so scared that it would make me more upset. But it honestly didn't.
"I miss you," I tell her, like she could hear me. "I think of you every day. I see you in the flowers outside our house, or sometimes even in the kitchen when it's my turn to cook. It's like you're still there, wearing your apron. The house still holds your memory in it even though you're gone."
I glance up again, watching the men that worked for the grave yard slowly lower Harry's coffin into the ground. It felt like a gut punch, and I realized that I should probably go. The rain came down harder on me suddenly as I looked back at my mom's name.
"I love you mom," I tell her. "I'll come back soon, I promise."
I walk back toward the pavement where the boys were standing. Feeling the wind pick up, and the rain coming to a halt for a moment. For some reason, that felt like her. She knew I was here, visiting her grave. I could feel it.
Even though the rain stopped, Paul still greets me with an umbrella, shielding me from the water the was dripping from the sky. His arm touches my side, telling me that he was here without saying anything.
"Are you okay sweetheart?" My dad asks.
"Yeah I'm okay," I tell him, "It was nice, I haven't gone in a while."
"Are you sure?" He asks, "Because last time you were pretty upset."
Last time I saw her grave was at the funeral, so yeah, I was pretty upset.
"I'm okay Dad," I reassure him. "It was really nice to be there. I'm going to start going more often."
"Good. You should, I try to stop by every once in a while," He explains, which I never know he did. I wonder who drove him, because it wasn't us.
"Are we ready?" Jake asks.
"Yeah."
"I can drive you if you want, Jos," Paul offers, "Unless you want to go with your Dad."
"No I'll come with you," I tell him.
He nods, walking us over to his truck that was parked down the way.
"Paul?" My dad shouts over at us, we both turn around, waiting for my dad to say what he had to.
"Drive safe, please."
"Of course, sir," He says, "I've got precious cargo in the car."
He opens the door for me, and I thank him before hopping in.
I sit with myself in silence for a second or two. And it was nice. I think I needed that time while Paul ran around the truck, as crazy as it sounds. My head feels very, overwhelmed today. And to be myself, but only for a second, felt nice as odd as it sounds.
"Hi," I say to him as he gets into the other side. This was the first time that we've been truly alone today.
"Hi baby," He says, linking our hands together. "How are you?"
"I'm good," I tell him, kissing his cheek. "How are you?"
"I'm good too," He tells me while starting the car. "This might be a really grim day, but I want you to know that you still look really beautiful."
I smile again, looking over at him as he's driving. One arm on the top of the wheel, the other linked with my hand. His jawline poking out as he stares ahead, light brown eyes on the road.
"Thank you," I tell him. "You always know how to make me smile."
"You know how to make me smile baby," He said. "Are you coming to graduation next week?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I tell him, "I'm assuming you got enough tickets?"
He nods, "Are you okay with sitting with my family?"
"Of course," I tell him, "Is your mom coming?"
He nods again, "I apologize in advance if there's any arguments with my parents."
"It's okay," I say, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm excited to meet her. What's she like?"
"She's... not the warmest person, I will admit," He tells me. "I get my fire from her, surprisingly."
"Really?"
He nods, "My dad's the patient and quiet one. But she's the one that's outgoing, and hard working, and can get pretty angry sometimes." He stops at a red light and looks over at me, "But she can also let loose, and be fun too. It just sometimes takes a lot for her to get that way."
"Is she that way around you a lot?" I ask, my eyes scanning his face as he looks at me.
"When it's just her and I," He says, tucking some hair behind my ear. "She always laughs the hardest when she's with me."
I smile, "I guess that means you're funny."
"Oh I'm hilarious," He pressed the gas and starts to drive in the direction of the Clearwater's.
"I wouldn't say hilarious," I tease.
"Oh yeah?" He sticks a finger in my side, and I let out a squeal, following a giggle. He laughs, keeping his eyes on the road the whole time. "I love your little laugh."
"I love yours," I say, taking ahold of his hand again. "Can I come over tonight?"
"Of course you can." He pulls into their driveway. "Won't ever say no to some, one on one Josie time."
"Yeah?" I smile as I lean over to kiss him, "What kind of one on one time?"
"Don't tempt me missy," He says, pressing his lips to mine. "Not yet."
"Why not?" I pout.
"Cause you're about to turn seventeen, not eighteen."
"So?" I unbuckle the seatbelt and meet his lips again. "I don't see a problem."
"I'm going to be eighteen in a couple of months." He deepens our kiss a bit, sliding his tongue along my bottom lip. "I don't want you to feel like you're forced—"
"—I don't," I make clear by breaking apart and staring at him. "I don't feel forced at all." I was very much in love with Paul at this point. It wasn't like that at all.
"I know," He tells me, "Let's just take our time baby okay?"
It's crazy how much he's changed since he's been with me. His last relationship was based fully on sex. And now, he won't go any further than a heavy making out session.
He must really care about me a lot.
I sigh, "Okay." I swing a leg over him, feeling him rest his hands on my butt as I straddle him. "I guess you'll just have to kiss me until I'm eighteen."
He smiles into the kiss, "And I'm very much okay with that."
I run my tongue along his lip, just as he did to me. Clearly getting carried away, we were in the car on the day of a funeral for Christ sakes. But I couldn't help it. I couldn't help kissing him like this, and feeling his hands dig into my backside.
"You're such a good kisser," He whispers against my lips.
"Really?" I ask into the kiss.
He hums, "Drives me crazy Josie."
I knead my hips into his, feeling him let out a throaty groan. He tightens his grip on my hips, lifting me up a bit.
"Don't do this here."
"Why not?" I whisper, "You don't wanna do this where anyone could see?"
He moans, "...Josie." I do it again, feeling him pant as I start to kiss his neck. "Fucking hell baby, you feel so—"
Knock, knock, knock.
I jump away from Paul, seeing a very angry looking Jake.
"Seriously?"
A guilty look spreads across my face. I look over at Paul to see he was scratching the back of his neck. I look back at Jake.
"Oops?"
//