Always in My Heart. Kayla Perrin

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       Funny how it sometimes took death to bring people together. Because while Callie hadn’t had a particular beef with either of her sisters, being forced into the middle of an ugly conflict between Deanna and Natalie had led to her being estranged from both of them.

       Deanna turned her attention to Kwame. “And you must be Kwame. I’m your aunt. Aunt Deanna.”

       “Hi,” Kwame said, his voice faint. He was normally an outgoing kid, but he was always shy when meeting people for the first time.

       “You’re very handsome,” Deanna said, offering him a smile.

       “Thanks.” He paused, then said, “I’ve seen you on TV. My mother showed me one of your music videos.”

       “She did, did she?”

       Kwame nodded. “It was a couple years ago. When I was seven. I like your music.”

       “Well, that’s good to hear.” Deanna ran her hand over his head affectionately.

       “Is Natalie here?” Callie asked, knowing this was a touchy subject.

       “Yeah. Like you, she couldn’t make it before today. She just arrived a little while ago. We’ve said hi, but not much else.”

       Callie nodded. “Where is she?”

       “Downstairs in the bathroom. She was…” Deanna paused, swallowed. “A wreck.”

       “Yeah,” Callie said softly, knowing the feeling. Deanna’s own eyes were red and puffy, indicating that she had cried a lot of tears. But it was clear she was trying to keep it together now.

       Callie took a good, long look at Deanna. Her sister had definitely changed in ten years. Her face was still slim, but her body had filled out, turning her from a skinny teen into a woman. Ten years ago, Deanna had liked wearing her hair shoulder length, but now it was cut into a short style and combed back from her face, letting her beauty show.

       “Uncle Dave said you’d been in a car crash.” Deanna’s eyes swept over her, assessing her injuries. “But he said you told him it wasn’t serious. Yet you’re wearing a sling, and you’ve got a big bandage on your head. It looks like you were pretty hurt.”

       “I’ll be fine,” Callie said.

       Deanna looked at Kwame. “But he was unhurt?”

       “Thank God.”

       Deanna sighed softly. “Yes, thank God. I’m so glad you’re both here.”

       As silence passed between them, Callie knew that Deanna was thinking the accident could have been much worse. That it could have taken both her and Kwame’s lives.

       “Why don’t you come with me for a minute?” Deanna said, wrapping an arm around Kwame’s shoulders. “I’ll introduce you to some other family members.”

       “Okay.”

       As Deanna began to walk with Kwame, she gave Callie a look, then jerked her head ever-so-slightly toward the front of the church. She was letting her know that this was a good time to go and pay her final respects to their aunt.

       Callie moved forward, her legs feeling like lead as she made her way to the polished mahogany casket. Floral arrangements filled the front of the church. Callie saw the wreath she was certain she had ordered, the one that read “Beloved Mother” and was brightly colored, made up of pink, orange, yellow and lime-colored flowers.

       Also at the front of the church were pictures of Auntie Jean in happier times. She had been so full of life, it seemed impossible that her life had been cut down at fifty-seven from a brain aneurysm.

       Callie stepped up to the coffin and looked down at her aunt. Tears began to fall again. She was comforted only by the fact that Auntie Jean looked peaceful.

       When she felt the arms encircle her waist, Callie looked to her right. Kwame was there at her side, being there for her once more, offering her his strength.

       “This is your great-aunt, honey,” Callie said. “You met her a few times when she came to Florida to see us, but the last time was three years ago.” Way too long.

       “She was beautiful,” Kwame said.

       “Yes, she was,” Callie said, and leaned her head down to touch Kwame’s, as her shoulder injury prevented her from hugging him properly.

       “Callie?”

       At the sound of the tentative female voice behind her, Callie turned. Her youngest sister, Natalie, stood a few feet away. A sob escaping her lips, Natalie moved forward, and the two sisters embraced.

       “I can’t believe it’s you,” Natalie said. “It’s been so long.”

       “I know. I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances that we are seeing each other.”

       Natalie nodded. She shot a brief glance over her shoulder in Deanna’s direction, and Callie couldn’t help wondering if her two sisters were going to continue their feuding.

       “And what happened to you? I hear—and see—that you were in a car accident.”

       “I’ll tell you all about it later,” Callie said. She glanced beyond Natalie to where her uncle was sitting on a pew, looking grief stricken. “But I’ve got to say hi to Uncle Dave, and the rest of the family.”

       “Yes, of course.”

       Uncle Dave stood as she approached him. He seemed frail, weak with sorrow. He had married their aunt two years after they’d gone to live with her, and he’d been the only father they’d ever known.

       “Uncle Dave,” Callie said, wrapping her good arm around him. She felt his frame shudder with a sob.

       “Thank you for coming,” he said.

       “Of course I would come,” Callie said, again feeling guilt.

       Because there was no of course about it, at least not where Uncle Dave was concerned. How could he have been certain that she would come when she had so effortlessly put Cleveland in her rearview mirror? Yes, she’d been in touch with Auntie Jean and Uncle Dave, but less and less over the years, and she had seen them only when they’d come to Florida to visit.

       “I’m sorry,” Callie whispered. It was all she could say. Because no excuse she gave to justify her absence all these years was going to be substantial enough.

       But she was here now, ready to start fresh.

      * * *

       The funeral service was extremely moving, resulting in tears flowing from everyone’s eyes. Uncle Dave, whom Callie had only known to be strong, was inconsolable as the pallbearers took his wife’s coffin from the church.

       The rain continued to fall, making the cemetery burial a soggy mess, but no one was concerned about the discomfort. All they wished was that Jean Henry could be back with them.

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