Bare Hearts Read online

  "How you holding up dear?" She asks, patting my leg once we sit. I can't answer her, as the tears start flooding again. "I just can't believe that this is happening, to her," Aunt Becca chokes out through her sobs. "I will stay as long as you need me to. It's not like I have anything back home in Virginia anyway," she says wiping her tears.

  "Thank you, I appreciate it," is all I can manage to say.

  I contemplate on handling the flower arrangements. I recently opened up my own floral shop about six months ago and named it Flower Shop. I know, so not original. The locals welcomed me with open arms, and when they would come by they’d order anything from simple to extravagant arrangements depending on the occasion. Business is steady so I have a few people helping me. Leah is still in high school, so she helps in the evenings and weekends. Ben is my delivery man, and I have the nicest elderly lady woman, Lucy, who helps out during the day. We all get along great, and they are handling the shop while I mourn the loss of my mother. I am planning on doing the flower arrangement for the funeral; something that my mom would have loved.

  "Aunt Becca, while you handle the funeral arrangements, I will make a flower arrangement that my mom would like. I will probably go in later when the others are gone."

  "That is a lovely idea," she replies.

  Once it reaches that time of day when I know the other employees won’t be there, I make my way over to my flower shop. I just don’t want to run into anyone I know, because my eyes are red and swollen and I look a fright, and I just don’t want to see the pity in their eyes. Luckily it is not that far from my house; just a quick drive. And when my car isn’t feeling reliable it doesn’t take long to walk there, either. Arriving after it’s closed, I head to the back and gather the flowers I need and place them on the work table.

  While I make the arrangement, I wonder if there were any other fatalities in the accident. I know one guy who was in it and survived. His wife, Maura called and expressed her condolences for my loss. From what I know, he was a marine and he was lucky to be alive. I’m not sure why or how my mom got involved, but in the end she didn’t make it. Why was my mom not spared? A lump forms in my throat as the thought of losing her overwhelms me. How will I move on knowing she is not here with me, knowing she won’t be able to comfort me or share my joys? She won’t see me get married, nor have children of my own. I swipe a tear from my cheek at the thought.

  Once the arrangement is done, I leave a note for Lucy about the work load and some upcoming events that she may need to do without me for a few days, just until I get the funeral taken care of. I lock the shop up and make my way back home.

  Heading into the kitchen, I find Aunt Becca in there putting some things in the refrigerator. “Oh, you’re back,” she says, looking at me with worrisome eyes. “The neighbors have been dropping off food and flowers ever since you left.”

  “News travel fast in this small town,” I tell her. I make my way around the kitchen island and glance over the food trays. My fingers linger over the flowers that were brought. The lavender smell of the flowers takes over the kitchen.

  “A lady named Maura stopped by. I guess she has a catering business and brought most of the food here,” she tells me.

  “Her husband was in the accident too. He survived,” I say numbly.

  My aunt comes around the counter with outstretched arms. Wrapping her arms around me she says, “I am so sorry. Your mom was way too young, and I know she was your best friend. She always bragged about you. She was always telling me about your progress with your shop and how it was doing. She was really proud of you when you graduated college and opened up your flower shop.”

  “She was?” I ask, looking up.

  “Oh yes. You should have heard her talk about you,” she replies with a weak smile and a kiss on top of my head.

  Breaking from her embrace, I decide to get something in my stomach. I grab a paper plate and go straight to the fresh veggies and dip tray. I add some fruit and a little of this and that and sit on the stool in front of the island to eat. My stomach is rumbling and tumbling and I realize I haven’t had anything in my stomach for quite some time. My aunt organizes the food to put the rest into the fridge.

  “The funeral arrangements are taken care of. It is being held at the church down the road and then we will go to the cemetery just on the edge of town afterward for the burial. I scheduled it for Monday; two days from now,” my Aunt informs me.

  It will probably be the longest two days of my life. I am not prepared to see her in the casket or even bury her. I know she will always be with me in spirit, and I find a little comfort in that. I’m glad my Aunt came to help with all this; otherwise I would probably be more of a mess than I already am.

  *****

  Monday comes fairly quickly. I’ve barely slept since my mom died. It’s weird not having her here all the time. I haven’t come to terms with her death, and I am not looking forward to today. In my room I sift through my closest to find anything black. Finally, I find a knee length black dress that was in the back. I’m not a dress wearing kind of person. Looking through my shoes, I manage to find a black pair of low heels. The dress is the only dress I own; it has a slit to the upper thigh and it has some lacing on the top around the V neck. Looking in the mirror, I twist my hair up into a high bun, put on rose earrings and add a touch of makeup to mask my blotchy and red skin. As I’m glancing out the window, the sun is shining and everything looks bright and cheery. Overcast and rain would be more fitting for this occasion, I think as I take a deep breath; or at least, try to. The time on the clock is still early so I make my way downstairs to see if anything needs to be done.

  “Good morning, Lily,” my aunt greets me.

  “Morning, need any help with anything?” I offer.

  “No. Looks like you are already ready, though.”

  “Yes, I really just want to get this day over with but I’m glad I get to see her again.” Even if it is the last time.

  “Least we get to say goodbye,” she says, trying to comfort me.

  In the kitchen, I grab a mug for coffee and a doughnut for fuel. As I am sitting on the kitchen stool, I think about the funeral I have to attend. It’s making my heart hurt. Will this pain ever go away?

  “We should probably make our way over to the funeral hall, Hon,” she informs me.

  Reluctantly, I follow her out the door. Going to the funeral home means I will have to greet, hug, and shake hands with family, friends, neighbors, and coworkers. Not something I am looking forward to.

  At the funeral home, I take the flower arrangement and place it on a stand near the casket. I take a moment and look at my mom in the casket, where she shouldn’t be. She looks so peaceful and beautiful in the flowing dress that my aunt and I picked out.

  There is already a line forming, so everyone gets their turn to stop at the casket to pay their respects. My aunt and I are standing next to it; everyone is mourning the loss of my mom. They look at me with pity and the sorrow is expressed by their facial expressions. It’s not just my aunt and I suffering the loss; everyone in this room is as well. But the loss runs a little deeper in me since I am her daughter.

  Finally, everyone makes their way through and takes a seat while the service gets underway. For me, it is just too overwhelming to speak in front of the crowd. For now I will just keep the memories to myself. After a little while it is just too much to hear others talking about my mom, so I step outside for some air. The afternoon air slams me with heat and humidity, making my escape for air more difficult. But I needed to get out of there.

  After I have a few minutes alone, we all head to the gravesite for the burial. I decided to drive myself. I need more time alone, since this would be my final goodbye. We all make our way to the site, standing around for the casket to be lowered and waiting for the final service by the preacher. I do my best to keep it together but it is getting harder by the minute. I struggle to keep my composure.

  As the casket lowers into the ground I sta
rt to sob uncontrollably. Everyone throws a flower of their choice on top. As the dirt starts to pile into the grave everyone makes their way out of the cemetery. My aunt comes over to comfort me but it is hard to accept the hard truth that my mom is dead.

  Taking a step back so the workers can finish their job, my aunt stands beside me. “You can go ahead and go. I want to stay a little longer so I can put the flower along the stone,” I say through the tears.

  “I don’t like leaving you like this,” she says with her arm wrapped around my shoulder for comfort.

  “Please. I will be okay. I just want to put this flower along the stone and say my final goodbye,” I reassure my aunt.

  “Okay, I will be at the house. I think some of the folks will be coming over as well.”

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done. But I just want some time to be alone for a little bit,” I say.

  “Okay dear. You just take your time.”

  I watch as she walks back to her car. I don’t think there is enough time to say goodbye.

  Chapter Four

  PARKER

  The days have slowly dragged as Monday finally approaches; the day of the funeral. Sleep has pretty much been non-existent since I received the news. The house is too quiet and I feel so alone. At least I get to say goodbye to my dad one last time. I had to rent a suit, since I didn’t own one myself. Selecting a dark suit, I also settle on a short sleeve dress shirt and tie. The suit is tailored to my body. However, I am wearing a pair of my dad’s dress shoes.

  Re-enlisting is sounding more and more like a good idea. I have nothing keeping me here now. And I feel a little guilty leaving my fellow brothers behind. But I needed to leave and I was hoping to make amends with my father when I came home. It seemed like we were on the right track. Even though he remained the same; still drinking and medicating himself numb.

  The drive to the funeral home is daunting and I dread seeing everyone grieve over my father. It feels like déjà vu from my mother’s funeral. I am thankful he will be buried next to her. Knowing they will be together in the afterlife comforts me the most. He’s in the place where he can love her again, hold her hand, and I hope they watch over me.

  Coffee and other refreshments are being served as his peers flood in to pay their respects. Grabbing a coffee, I overhear a few talking about some good times they had with my father. Silently, I’m thankful he had as many friends as he did, since other family members weren’t around much. I just think they didn’t know how to act or what to say after my mother died.

  I stand next to the casket as everyone stops by to pay their respects. They stop to shake my hand and offer their deepest sympathy. I don’t like the pity that shows in their eyes.

  Finally, service commences and kind words are spoken about my father. His peers even take turns at the podium sharing jokes and stories about him. I learned more about my father just from the stories I heard being shared around. I approach the podium as service is about to come to a close, and a lump catches in my throat.

  “I just want to thank everyone for coming to pay their respects. And I want to thank those that shared their stories about my father.” I take a moment to clear my throat and loosen my tie. “My father and I grew apart after my mom died. He didn’t know how to deal with me by himself. I know he is with her now. I only hope he can forgive me for taking off like I did to join the army. I needed an escape and I ran at the first chance I got. I always thought he would be around, and I took him for granted. He would send me letters while I was away. We were just starting to rebuild our relationship when I came home. I will cherish every single memory I have with him. I will cherish the times he used to take me to baseball games, the times he would throw a ball in the yard with me. He was a good father. He just didn’t know how to be one after my mom passed; we didn’t know how to exist. I cherish everyone that has stuck by him in his darkest days. May he rest in peace.” Holding back my tears, I walk away from the podium and a fellow friend of his pats me on the back and gives me a look of understanding.

  Everyone starts heading to the burial site, but I decide to drive my own car, even though some of his friends offered to let me ride with them in their limo. I like the solitude, and I can focus on saying goodbye to my dad one last time. My soul feels even emptier than it did before.

  Once everyone arrives at the cemetery, a sermon is given and we pay our last respects as the casket starts to lower into the ground. I throw a handful of dirt onto the casket and get several pats on the back as they turn to leave. Being the last one to leave, I kiss my fingers and touch my mom’s stone and silently ask her to watch out for dad.

  In the distance, I see another funeral. As most all the folks turn to leave I see a girl being comforted as the others leave her there by herself. I watch as she lies down next to a grave. Me being curious, I make my way over to her.

  Chapter Five

  LILY

  Aunt Becca kisses my cheek and gives me a huge hug before she walks to the awaiting car. I keep my distance so the workers can get their job done. Finally, when they finish, I make my way back to the grave. With fresh dirt piled on top, I place the flowers along the stone. Feeling lost and alone, I lay in the grassy spot next to my mom, just so I can feel close to her one last time. I close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun enveloping my face and body; it feels calming and relaxing. I lie in the rays and let my memories fill my mind.

  Suddenly, a shadow overcasts the sun and I squint my eyes open to see the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on standing over me. And he looks very familiar.

  “I take it your mom didn’t make it through the surgery,” he says, shielding his eyes from the sun. Now, I recognize him! He was the man from the Emergency waiting room.

  “No she didn’t; she was buried today. How about your dad, did he make it?” I ask, hopeful that a miracle occured.

  “No, he was buried today as well,” he says, pointing in the direction of the gravesite. In the distance, I see people starting to leave from where he points.

  “I’m sorry,” I say as I stand up brushing the grass and dirt off me.

  “Me too,” he points to my mom’s grave while he rocks nervously on his heels.

  I’m sure I look like a complete mess, and I am slightly embarrassed that he caught me lying in the grass next to my mom’s grave. He probably thinks I’m a freak. But there is nothing freak about him. He has dark dress pants on and a short sleeve dress shirt and tie. I can see colorful tattoos peeking out of his shirt sleeves, while he holds his suit jacket in his other hand.

  His black hair has that messy look on the top while the sides are shorter. His eyes are so light that they match the color of the sky on a bright sunny day like today. He is a tall drink of refreshing water, and I take my time drinking him in. We stand in silence for a little while. Finally, I introduce myself, breaking the silence.

  “I’m Lily, by the way.” I offer my hand out to shake. When he grips mine with his, a shockwave shoots through my whole body like lighting, as it did when we first met.

  “Parker,” he says, dropping my hand. “This might be so inappropriate, but if you are not doing anything, would you want to get out of here and grab a coffee somewhere?” He hesitantly asks.

  Well I am not one to turn down a handsome man asking to go for coffee.

  “Yes, I’d love to.”

  Wait! Did I just say yes to this gorgeous stranger? Yes I did. Shit! I can’t help but say yes, his smooth voice is so calming, so I follow him to his car.

  “I know a good coffee shop about a mile outside of town. Hop in. I’ll drive,” he says with his seductive voice. I hesitate for a moment, as I am about to get in a car, alone with a stranger. He seems safe enough. He opens the passenger door and I slide in. No going back now. Since the cemetery is on the edge of town, a mile outside of town is not that far; a quick escape is not completely out of the question.

  His car is sleek and I know it’s fast, because it’s a Camaro. I was a tomboy growing
up and I was into cars. I learned a lot from my Uncle Pete, Aunt Becca’s deceased husband. He was the fatherly figure in my life, since I hadn’t seen my dad since I was eight years old. Unfortunately, my uncle died of a massive heart attack a few years back, and the family hasn’t been the same since. He held the family together like glue.

  “I don’t normally frequent coffee shops. But I do like to indulge once in a while,” I say as he continues to drive.

  “Well, looks like you will get the pleasure of indulging today,” he beams.

  “How can you be in a good mood? Didn’t you just attend your father’s funeral?” I ask.

  “I’m sad, but there is nothing I can do about it. It’s a sad situation. I know he wouldn’t want me moping around and being sad. What about you?”

  “I’m very heartbroken over my mother’s death. But I don’t think I have any more tears left to cry. And I don’t think she would want me to be like this either,” I tell him.

  Parker pulls his Camaro into the coffee shop parking lot. Rushing over to my side he opens the door and guides me inside with his hand on the small of my back. Shockwaves again, and now I’m getting butterflies in my stomach. How can this be? I don’t even know him. We approach the counter to order our coffee, and he insists on paying for both. Of course I don’t object to the offer, I don’t have it in me at this point. Grabbing our coffee and doctoring them up how we like, we take a seat in a booth in the back. The place has a calming ambiance and is a quaint little hole in the wall place.

  “Tell me more about your mom,” he says.

  “Well, she was a wonderful person. She raised me as a single mom, and she loved to read. She was kind and a great listener, and would never judge you by what you wore or said. She was my best friend.”

  “She sounds like an amazing person,” he says. He lifts the coffee cup to his lips and that’s when I notice how luscious they are. Very kissable. Oh, I need to stop thinking these crazy thoughts. It’s so inappropriate. And the timing couldn’t be more off.