| |
Anne was the only daughter not loudly sobbing as soon as their mother’s heart monitor flatlined. She still cried. The tears rolled down her face in a stream that threatened to never end. But she was also aware of the hazards of the type of crying her sisters were doing.
She didn’t envy them the headaches they would soon have because of the scene they were making.
If, she thought bitterly, they really cared as much as they were currently claiming, they would have spent more time with Mama.
Instead, they went on dates and out shopping with their friends. They hadn’t been there when Eliza Elliot had been sick after chemo. Or when she needed a ride to her doctor’s appointments. Or when meals needed to be cooked so that everybody could have supper that night.
And still, they sobbed out their grief, or maybe their guilt.
She could see it now.
Mary would use their mother’s death as a means of getting endless extensions on assignments and who knows how much attention. “But my mother died!” she could hear her crying, fake tears rolling down her cheeks as she played her audience in a way that only Mary could do.
And nobody would call her out on her behavior because her mother had died.
Beth would do what Beth always did and use shopping therapy to help ignore the realities at home.
It started as soon as she realized that she needed a new black dress for the funeral. Then it was the new flats that were necessary to go with the new dress. She didn’t dare wear heels that might sink into the ground and cause her to face plant in front of the crowd.
––––––––
––––––––
Derek,
I don’t know when you will get this. Mama (at this Anne hesitated to finish typing up her e-mail. Finishing that sentence would make it real.) ... Mama ... This is really hard to type out. I thought typing those horrible, awful, no good words would be easier than when I had to call Aunt Cassandra. She’s in New York this week. Mama warned her about going so far away, but... Aunt didn’t listen. She let out a round of cuss words that would probably make some of your sailor friends blush. Because she wasn’t there when... when... when Mama... I hope I don’t have to finish this for you to actually understand what I’m struggling to type.
I wish you could be here. I need you, but I doubt you’ll be able to get leave since we aren’t family. I’m just your girlfriend.
I imagine you couldn’t even get leave if something happened to me.
I miss you.
Elizabeth is taking the excuse to go black dress shopping. Even though she has three black dresses in her closet with the tags still attached, but they aren’t ‘in season’. Same with her shoes.
Also, she is no longer Beth. She is now Elizabeth. She is already planning on taking over in Mama’s place, even if she refuses to make certain that dinner is cooked and the house is clean. No, those tasks fall on her sisters, whom she now bosses around.
I cannot wait to go to Chicago. It was one of Mama’s biggest hopes for me and I don’t want to disappoint her.
It’s been twenty-four hours and I miss her already.
Anne
––––––––
Typing up her letter to Derek and hitting send was enough to open up the floodgates that had been barred, excluding a few leaks, ever since her mother had passed. Even the phone call informing her aunt wasn’t enough to lift that bar that refused to budge.
She was starting to feel terrible that all she felt was numb, that the tears she had previously cried had dried up. But suddenly, as if by hitting that send button, it was as if everything was real.
––––––––
––––––––
There the Elliot girls were, all sitting in a row. Tall, medium, short. Oldest, middle, youngest. Anybody paying attention could tell that Anne’s eyes were still puffy and red, whereas her sisters barely looked as if they had shed a tear.
Their father sat next to Elizabeth. His suit was perfectly pressed – a demand that was anticipated by his middle daughter even as his elder daughter took the credit – and his gray tie perfectly matched his eyes – also picked by Anne even as Elizabeth took the credit. However, it was the expression in his eyes that bothered anybody that looked or spoke to him. There was a blank, empty look in their depths even as his conversations bordered on the shallow and superficial.
Cassandra sat behind Anne and occasionally placed a hand on her shoulder whenever it seemed as if Anne was going to break down into tears.
The entire service was a blur. People stood up to speak about her mother, but Anne didn’t recognize any of the familiar faces. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes even though she had thought she had cried herself out.
––––––––
––––––––
Elizabeth – no longer Beth – played the part of the gracious hostess as friends of their mother and father from church and other various places came around with their store-bought casseroles and other grief offerings in respect to the Southern tradition of bringing food to a wake after a funeral.
Mary, an immature sixteen, merely rolled her eyes as person after person rang the doorbell. She was frequently sent off with a dish to the kitchen as her older sisters managed to handle the curious crowds with grace and hospitality.
Their father was in his study staring at a picture of his wife. All condolences went in one ear and out the other as he barely heard a single word any of the well-wishers gave him.
All four of them, Cassandra, and then a select handful of Eliza Elliot’s true friends knew that these people were here more to gawk at Walter Elliot’s estate and comment on their belongings.
“At least they are bringing food,” Elizabeth whispered to her sister. “We won’t have to cook for a while.”
Holding back a frustrated sigh, Anne thought that she wouldn’t have to cook for a while. She had yet to see Elizabeth make anything that didn’t involve the microwave or pouring cereal and milk into a bowl.
Although, on further reflection, Elizabeth could throw some of these dishes into the microwave or oven in order to warm it up. Anne doubted she would.
With any luck, some of these people had taken pity on the three sisters and assumed that none of them were aware of how to cook. They wouldn’t know that Anne had taken to studying a cookbook to keep her stress levels down. She discovered she liked cooking as she was learning.
Someday she hoped she would be able to show off her newly acquired talents to Derek.
––––––––
––––––––
Anne
I wish I was there more than anything in the world. I am with you in spirit until I can be there in person.
Derek
Out of all of her friends, Derek knew what it was like to lose a mother and he couldn’t come and help her through her grief.
