It's a Wonderful Death - Sarah J. Schmitt Page 0,84
door and is gone without a word.
Flipping the mirror down, I touch up the flakes of dry mascara sitting on my cheeks. Someone could have told me my face was a mess.
Slowly, I reach out and squeeze the door handle. With a deep breath, I step out into the autumn sunshine and the smell of falling leaves and fresh cut grass fills my lungs.
A gentle squeeze on my shoulder alerts me to my parents’ arrival. I resist the urge to move away from them. Instead, I wrap my arm around my mom’s waist and fall in step with her. The truth is, I need her to keep me from crumpling to the ground.
She leads me toward the mound of brown dirt with a fake grass topping. Who are they kidding with that cover? We all know underneath it is the earth that will top the remains of an angel. The weight of my grief is staggering and I stumble over my feet. My dad catches me by the elbow and leads me to a seat in the back row. Protectively, he and my mom take the flank positions, each holding one of my hands.
The Indian summer wind rustles my hair, lifting it gently. I stare across the acres of gray tombstones and all I can think of is running away. But I don’t. Eventually the murmur of the minister’s words stops and around me people begin to move, each person taking a yellow daisy from a pile and tossing it lightly onto the coffin. When did they lower it into the ground? How did I miss it? Oh God, I can’t do this. I can’t be a part of this. It can’t be real. But, of course, I can and it is.
I dutifully stand in line until it’s my turn. As my flower descends in slow motion, I see a red rose petal peeking out among the sea of yellow. For a moment, I wonder if Daniel brought it or someone else.
And then my chest tightens and I feel like I’m going to explode. I find Daniel and squeeze his hand, forcing him to look at me. “Let’s get out of here,” I wheeze.
Like someone waking up from a deep sleep, he nods. The next thing I know, we’re racing toward his car and jumping in. I look up to see the shocked expression on everyone’s faces. Well, not Madeline’s parents. They look envious. I bet they would trade places with us in a heartbeat.
“Where are we going?” Daniel asks, shifting the car into gear before pulling onto the busy road just outside the cemetery gates.
I shake my head. “No clue. Just drive.”
He turns toward downtown Indianapolis. “What do you think she would do?”
I notice he doesn’t say her name. I understand. It’s too soon. Too painful. Too raw. “Something nice,” I say, filling the void of silence.
He snorts. “Turning limes into limeades.”
That was Madeline. She was always thinking of other people and how to make their lives better. “Maybe we should take lunch up to the nurses on her floor?” I suggest.
Daniel shakes his head. “Her parents did that yesterday. Besides, I don’t think it would be good for morale if we showed up with our red eyes and sad faces, do you?”
He’s right. “We still need to do something. What about taking coffee and snacks to some random floor at another hospital. You know how Madeline was always going on about how the nursing staff at the Children’s Hospital was lucky because so many people would bring treats in for them. What if we pick some other floor?”
Daniel nods thoughtfully. “I think she would like that.”
Now we’re on a mission. Instead of trying to get through the day, we have purpose. Sure, it’s only coffee and pastries, but on days like today, you take what you can get. “Where should we go?”
“There’s a coffee shop up ahead. Maybe they could call a floor and get an order for all the nurses. Then we’ll grab some food and take it over. Oh wait,” he says, the glimmer of life starting to fade. “We need money.”
“Never fear,” I say, tapping my purse. “I have a credit card. I’m pretty sure I can get Mom and Dad to cover this one without too much hassle.”
“You sure?” he asks, knowing how much trouble I’ve been in before for using the card without permission.
I shrug. “I can always plead insanity. After all, I have the ‘my best friend just died’ card.”