Arcadia's Gift - By Jesi Lea Ryan Page 0,14

look before following her out into the hall.

“It’s going to be fine, Cady,” the doctor assured me. “As you must know, they’re under a lot of stress. This isn’t easy on anyone. Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head. I just wanted to be alone.

Chapter 7

The time between waking from my coma and the funeral was a complete daze. I’d been released from the hospital on Thursday morning only to stay in my bed until I had to get up for my sister’s wake Saturday morning. Bronwyn came over, at my grandmother’s request, to help get me ready. After a couple of lame attempts at conversation, she gave up and went about the motions of getting me ready in silence. I sat on the toilet lid in my robe while she brushed and dried my hair with a feather-light touch. We both knew if she tugged too hard I might shatter.

I put on the dress that someone set out for me without really looking at it, thankful that I didn’t have to make any decisions for myself. Mom left for the funeral home early with Grandma Nora, so Bronwyn drove my brother and me over in her mother’s minivan. Aaron was dressed in one of our dad’s suits and kept fingering the knot of his tie, trying to loosen it enough for comfort, but not so much that our mother would freak out on him.

I’d been in Grandview Funeral Home a few years earlier, when my Grandpa Bill passed away, so I thought I knew what to expect. I learned really quickly that an elderly man’s funeral, even one who was respected and loved like my Grandpa, couldn’t compare with that of a popular sixteen-year-old cheerleader. Parked cars lined the avenue on both sides of the street for three blocks. It seemed as if everyone in Dubuque was here.

“I better drop you guys off at the door,” Bronwyn said. “It’s gonna take me forever to find a parking place, and I don’t want you to be late.” She turned into the lot and pulled up in the fire lane to let us out.

“Thanks,” Aaron muttered before hopping out of the back.

My posterior felt glued to the passenger seat.

Aaron didn’t notice I wasn’t behind him until he turned to hold the funeral home door open for me. His already grim face fell a little further, and he returned to retrieve me from the vehicle.

“Come on, Cady,” he said, opening the passenger door and unhooking my seatbelt for me. “It sucks, but we have to do this. If it’s too awful, I’ll find a way to take you home early, okay?”

“Okay,” I replied, my voice dry and crackled. With a hand on his shoulder to steady myself, I slid out of the seat. Leaning on my brother seemed to magnify my sorrow, and I struggled with the heaviness in my chest. It was just the two of us now. The odd feeling vanished as Aaron, seeing that I was steady on my feet, started walking ahead of me toward the building. I flashed a weak wave to Bronwyn as she pulled away from the curb.

Several people, mostly students from school, stared at us as we made our way inside the building. The pity in their eyes felt strong enough to touch, making me long for the safety of my bed.

Aaron took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Aunt Tina, our dad’s younger sister who drove in from Chicago, met us right inside the door.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, drawing us both into a tight hug, her bleach blond extensions tickling my nose. “The family seating is in the reserved rows up front. They just started the receiving line.”

Aunt Tina crushed my hand in hers and dragged me through the crowd. Aaron followed behind us. My emotions were all over the map, making me feel like a computer getting ready to short circuit. I’d taken half of a Valium before leaving the house. Not enough to make me sleepy, but just enough to separate my mind from my body with a thick layer of numbness. I could sense tension and sorrow vibrating through me, but at the same time, it was like it was happening to someone else. Even with the medication, the pressure of the crowd triggered claustrophobia, making my chest heave and my palms dampen. Between that and the mass of people making the air thick and stuffy, my stomach tumbled