Graveminder. Melissa Marr

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СКАЧАТЬ the body still looked like her grandmother. The familiar keen gaze was absent; the smile was absent; but the form was still Maylene.

      Rebekkah knew what she needed to say. The flask was in her bag, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not in front of everyone. There were words, traditions that she’d observed with Maylene time and again. Soon.

      Rebekkah leaned down to kiss Maylene’s cheek. “Sleep now, Grandmama,” she whispered. “Sleep well, and stay where I put you.”

      12

      REBEKKAH WENT THROUGH THE MOTIONS, ACCEPTING CONDOLENCES AND listening to the reminiscences of strangers and of those vaguely familiar. She did so alone.

      Byron had come down to the viewing area, now dressed in one of his dark suits. He and William both kept an eye on her, and she knew that at any time they would extricate her if she sent them a pleading glance. Instead, she gave Byron a small shake of her head when he started to approach her.

      I am Maylene’s granddaughter, and I will do as we have always done. Together with her grandmother, she’d gone to innumerable viewings and funerals. She politely nodded and calmly accepted hugs and arm pats. I can do this. She was only there for the last hour of the wake, but it felt longer than any she could recall. Even Ella’s.

      Thankfully, Cissy and her daughters had left just before Rebekkah had arrived. Overcome by grief, William had said with a stoic expression.

      Then the viewing was over. William took charge of the mourners, and Byron came over to her side.

      “Do you want a minute with her?” he asked.

      “No. Not yet.” Rebekkah glanced over at him. “Later. At the gravesite.”

      “Come on.” Byron deftly avoided several people who wanted to speak with her and led her back into his home.

      “I could’ve stayed,” she murmured as he closed the door behind them.

      “No one’s doubting you,” he assured her. “We have a few minutes before we go to the cemetery, and I thought you might want to catch a breath.”

      She followed him into the kitchen. Her dishes still sat on the table. “Thank you. I know I keep saying it, but you really have been better to me than I deserve.”

      To avoid looking at him, she busied herself rinsing her cup and plate.

      “Our … friendship didn’t die for me,” he said, “even when you decided to stop returning my calls. It never will.”

      When she didn’t reply, he came over and took the cup from her hand.

      “Bek?”

      She turned, and he folded her into his arms.

      “You’re not alone. Dad and I are both here,” he said. “Not just last night. Not just today. But for as long as you need.”

      Rebekkah rested her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes for a minute. It would be so easy to let herself give in to the irrational urge to stay next to Byron. In all her life, no one else had ever made her want to stay in one place; no one she’d met since she left Claysville had made her want to think about commitments. Only you, she thought as she pulled away. She didn’t admit that. Not to him. He wasn’t hers. Not really. Not ever.

      Rebekkah smiled and said, “I’m going to freshen up before we go.”

      She felt his gaze on her as she walked away, but he didn’t say anything as she fled.

      When she returned from the washroom, William and Byron stood waiting.

      “She didn’t want a procession. It’s just us. Everyone else has gone ahead.” William held out his hand. In it was the tarnished silver bell Maylene had carried with her to the graveside.

      Rebekkah felt foolish for not wanting to take it. She’d stood here innumerable times when William wordlessly held that same bell out to Maylene. Slowly she wrapped her hand around it, tucking one finger inside to keep the clapper still. It was meant to be rung at the grave, not here.

      She turned to Byron to escort her to the car for the graveside service, just as William had once escorted Maylene. Byron would take her where she needed to go. His presence at her side since she’d returned last night felt right, just as it had when she first moved to Claysville, just as it had when Ella died, just as it did every time she saw him.

      I can’t stay here. I can’t stay with him. I won’t.

      As she clutched the bell in her hand, Rebekkah slid into the slick black interior. She put a hand out for the door, effectively blocking him from joining her. “Please, I would prefer being alone.”

      A flash of irritation flared in his eyes, but he said nothing about her rejection. Instead, his professional guise reappeared. “We’ll meet you at the cemetery,” he said.

      Then he closed the door and went over to the waiting hearse.

      I can get through this without him … and then leave.

      Without Maylene, Claysville was just another town. It wasn’t really home. She’d tricked herself into thinking there was something special about it, but she’d lived in enough places to know better: one town was no different from the next. Claysville had some odd rules, but none of that mattered anymore. Maylene was dead, and Rebekkah had no reason to keep returning here now.

      Except for Byron.

      Except that it’s still home.

      Rebekkah watched out the window as the hearse pulled into the street; her driver eased out behind it, following William as he drove Maylene to her final resting place.

      When the driver came around and opened her door, Rebekkah could already hear the overdramatic wailing. Cissy’s here. Ringing the bell as she walked, Rebekkah made her way across the grass to the chairs that were lined up under the awning. She reminded herself that Maylene would expect her to be on her best behavior. She’d arranged everything, no doubt hoping that easing the stress would make this moment more bearable, but even careful planning couldn’t negate the headache that Cissy would inevitably cause. Maylene’s daughter was contentious under the best of circumstances. Her venomous attitude toward Rebekkah had been a source of irritation to Maylene, but no one would explain to Rebekkah why the woman hated her so much. She’ll come around, Maylene had assured her. To date, that hadn’t happened; in fact, the animosity had grown to the point that Rebekkah hadn’t exchanged words with Cissy in years. Her absence at the end of the viewing had been a wonderful respite, but it wasn’t a kindness: it was merely a way for her to be first at the gravesite.

      As Rebekkah approached the grave, she swung the bell more forcefully.

      The volume of Cissy’s caterwauling increased.

      One hour. I can handle her for one hour. Rebekkah couldn’t toss her out as she so dearly wanted to do, so she walked to the front and took her seat.

      I can be polite.

      That resolve lessened when Cissy approached the now-closed casket.

      Lilies and roses swayed СКАЧАТЬ