Ch 53 ~ Forget Me Not

The sun blazed through curtains that had somehow been left open last night, beating its way through Jon’s closed eyelids and into his consciousness.  Morning didn’t sit well when he was in tour-slash-vampire mode, but he barely grumbled as he squinted and turned away from the evidence of a new day.  Because, as much as he disliked mornings, turning his head to the pillow beside him and seeing Rachel was one of his greatest pleasures in life.  One he didn’t get to indulge in as much as he’d like because of his work schedule.

That’s why, when he opened his eyes and found that he was in bed alone – for the second day in a row – the relaxing afterglow of last night’s flesh-fest dissipated with the cold touch of her pillow.

Huffing quietly to himself, he snatched up the pair of jeans that was lying on the closet floor and stuffed his legs in them, only exhibiting a bit more care when he reached for the zipper.  That was only because history had taught him that careless pant-zipping sometimes didn’t end well with his commando ways.  Then he yanked a t-shirt from the nearest hanger and pushed his head through the neck-hole, tugging it down his bare torso as he exited the bedroom.

He was going to have to make a point to tell Rachel that he really didn’t appreciate her morning vanishing act.  They were on a limited timetable here, and he would appreciate receiving a little more consideration than the cup of coffee she was no doubt consuming in front of the family room fireplace. 

Surprised to find the sofa empty, Jon frowned and continued his search in the kitchen.  Maybe she hadn’t been up very long and was just now making the coffee.

But the kitchen was empty, too. 

He was just about to direct his bare feet toward her office when a movement through the window caught his eye.  Crossing to the kitchen sink, he peered outside to find Rachel in the back yard, dressed in running clothes and cutting stems from a bed of sky blue flowers.

The first inclination he had was to stick his head out the back door and bicker at her for leaving him alone in bed.  In fact, his hand was on the doorknob to do just that when her ponytailed head turned at an angle that allowed him to see her face. 

Eyes that were normally sparkling with invigoration after a run were troubled.  Lips whose smile he thrived on were pulled into a flat disconsolate line.  The jawline that defined classic elegance was taut with some unnamed emotion. 

Clearly she wasn’t picking flowers for enjoyment, and it didn’t appear as though she would appreciate his bitching or his company, so Jon bit his tongue and turned to the barista machine.  He would let the caffeine tamp down the last of his peevishness and allow him to avoid showing his ass. 

By the time the first mouthful had slipped down its throat, Rachel had slipped in through the family room slider and offered Jon a slight, but loving grin.  Her tone was a perfect match for that loving grin when she offered up a subdued, “Good morning, handsome.”

He was five times as glad he’d held his tongue now.

“Hey, baby.”  Jon held open the arm that wasn’t holding a hot cup of coffee, inviting her to step into a half-embrace.  When she did, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple and inquired amiably, “You already been out for a run this morning?”

“Mm hmm,” she nodded, stepping backward as her eyes flicked to the makeshift bouquet in her hand.  “I wanted to run off some nervous energy.”

He nodded toward the blue buds.  “Pretty.  What kind are they?”

The way her smile went all melancholy made him almost sorry he’d asked.  “Forget-me-nots.  Tyler brought home a little seedling in a Dixie cup when he was in kindergarten, and the little thing nearly took over the yard.”

“You taking them to the cemetery?”

“Yeah.  I thought it would be a fitting gesture to leave if I tie one of Lauren’s hair ribbons around them.  Maybe.”  She shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It feels like an important day.  Like if I can manage to link the past to the present that I’ll finally feel some sort of… closure.”

Jon slipped his arm around her neck and brought her into his chest, laying a simple kiss on the top of her head.  His heart broke for her all over again.  This day was gonna suck.  No doubt about it, but he hoped once they got through this that things would start to get better.  Really better. 

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rachel fiddled with the blue ribbon that was several shades darker than the flowers it was binding together as Jon flipped the turn signal.  It would’ve been easier to make the fifteen minute drive herself, but she was grateful that Jon had insisted on driving.  Her thoughts had been allowed to run rampant during the short trip, with nothing but a soft classic rock soundtrack to accompany them, because Jon hadn’t uttered a word since they got in the car.  She didn’t know if that was because he had no idea what to say to her, or if he was just giving her space. 

Right now, she wasn’t sure that space was such a good option. 

As they took the final turn into the cemetery, Rachel’s nervous anticipation had her bordering on nauseated and wondering why on earth she had ever agreed to this.  Why she’d ever – even for a brief moment – considered this a good idea.  There was a very specific reason she’d avoided this place for so long. 

She was afraid it was going to shatter her. 

The reality of it all could very easily come hurtling into her with a devastating blow that would bring her to her knees.  Her carefully cultivated control would be pushed out the window and she would find herself crippled by emotions that she’d so carefully hidden away from herself.  Was she ready for that?  Was she ready to fall to pieces, for the sake of rebuilding herself again?  On a firmer foundation?  On a healthy foundation?

At that moment, the passenger door opened and Jon stood with his hand expectantly extended, waiting to help her to exit the vehicle. 

Ready or not here I come.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, Rachel accepted the proffered hand and slowly exhaled as she stood. 

“Okay?” he asked in a gentle tone. 

She nodded and smiled through the nausea.  “I wish I’d thought to bring along a bag of some kind, in case I get sick.”

His soft chuckle coated her frayed nerves like a balm.  “I got tissues, but I gotta tell ya… a barf bag never crossed my mind.”

“Then I guess I can’t throw up,” she reasoned logically, straightening the hem of the sweater that had been Nick’s favorite and hoping that logic was enough to actually prevent it from happening.  “Let’s go.”

With another deep breath and Jon at her side, she resolutely placed one foot in front of the other and climbed the gentle knoll toward the final resting place of her family.  Or at least it had seemed like a gentle knoll when she had chosen the spot right after the accident. 

Today, it affected her breathing as though she were climbing Mount Everest.  The air seemed to grow thinner and thinner as she approached the top, deficient of the oxygen she so desperately needed. 

Since when was she so out of shape that scaling a tiny hill had her gulping for air.

You’re not out of shape, and you know it.

Her physical self was just fine.  It was her emotional self that was to blame.  The anticipation of this very moment – the moment she had been putting off for what felt like decades – was to blame for her shortness of breath.  Because it was the moment that she would no longer be able to deny that she’d truly lost her husband and both of her children. 

Thin air went non-existent as she held her breath on the final few steps that placed her... there.

A modest marker, the marble headstone lay flat against the ground, prominently displaying the name “BRADEN” toward the sky.  There were only the slightest of decorative etchings, as per Rachel’s desire for simplicity and elegance, and the right side of the long rectangle bore hers and Nick’s names, while their children’s were on the left.  Beyond that, there was no other adornment except for the epitaph she vaguely remembered instructing the monument company to inscribe across the bottom.

We lived together in happiness, we rest together in peace.

Rachel stared in silence at the piece of stone bearing her family’s names and waited for the bolt of lightning she’d expected to strike her.

But none came.

The devastating meltdown she suspected could manifest in reaction to the tangible proof that her entire family was dead didn’t materialize.  Instead, the only thing she felt was the same familiar detachment she’d felt since that fateful day.   

Jon kept respectfully silent as Rachel stood there, seeking her memories and her soul.  She vividly recalled the day she’d married Nick, the day they’d found out she was expecting Lauren, the night Tyler had come screaming into the world…  And the afternoon her world had come crashing down with the news that they were all gone. 

She could remember every single detail of that moment.  The smell in the air, the way the sunlight hit the trees behind the policeman whose face would be emblazoned in her mind’s eye until the day she, herself, died.  A crisp breeze had swept into the foyer with his condolences, taking the warmth from her heart and soul and leaving behind the same benign void that still lingered on a smaller scale.

Rachel knelt on the grass, placing the flowers in the brass vase which made up the center of the marker, and traced her finger over their names.  First she lovingly touched each individual letter of the children’s names, then Nick’s.  The tactile engraving left an imprint on her fingertip, but did nothing to change the condition of her empty heart. 

Finally, still seeking some type of completion, she traced her fingers over her own name.  It was there, along with her date of birth, awaiting that last bit of information.  All that was needed to complete her family’s final resting place was the date of her own death. 

Why had she been so afraid to come to this place?  There was nothing here.  The roughness of Nick’s calloused hands against her shoulders, the softness of Lauren’s silky hair, the melody of Tyler’s giggle weren’t here.  It was as she had said all along.  There was nothing more here than a cold slab of pretty stone. 

That was all she had to show for the twenty years she’d spent building a life and family with Nick, she realized absently.  Granite and marble with a few decorative swirls.

She straightened the bow on the flowers she’d picked from the yard and stood, leaning her back against Jon’s chest.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, clasping his hands together and kissed her temple.  “You okay?” he asked quietly.

Rachel gave a slight nod and finally spoke.  “It’s a pretty headstone, isn’t it?”

“It is.  It’s beautiful, Rach.”

She placed her hands over his and hummed her agreement.  “It looks different than I thought it would, though,” she mused.  “For some reason I thought it was all marble.  I didn’t remember there was granite.”

“You were probably pretty numb when you decided on the design, but it’s very classy.  Just like you, babe.”

She twisted her head to look up at him.  “I should feel…more, shouldn’t I?  Everyone assumed I would.  Where’s the big epiphany they all thought I’d have?”

“Maybe there isn’t one, Rach.  Maybe you just don’t get one.”

“Just my luck,” she sighed, turning her gaze back to the graves. “I’ve spent the last few years terrified of seeing this piece of stone and now that I’m here, it’s still as hard to believe as the day it happened.”  Rachel stilled in Jon’s arms and remembered the knock on the door that delivered the news of their death.  “I didn’t see them, you know – after  the accident – the  crash was so bad that the funeral home suggested a closed casket for them all.    Sometimes I think I’d have been better off to have seen them, or just touched their hand… something.  I think that was a mistake, now that I think about it.  The images in my head are probably worse than anything.”

“Don’t second guess your decisions, baby.  You made the best choices you could at the time.”

“Maybe,” she agreed complacently.

They both stood quietly, each lost in their own thoughts until  Jon softly offered, “You wanna few minutes alone before we go?” 

Rachel shook her head, breaking free of memories of Christmases, birthday parties and family vacations with an appreciative smile.  “No, but thank you for offering.  I’m ready.  Whatever it was that I expected to find here...  I guess it just doesn’t exist.”