Page 8 of Promise Kept

“For you,” my mother lies. “To make sure you get through this.”

“I’m doing just fine standing right here,” I say. “I have a lot to think about.”

“Why don’t we both just skip that part? Let’s cash everything in and move. You and me, Larissa. We can start over. Just you and me. We can travel the world. Buy a house. We can… I don’t know. We can do anything we want.”

“You’re rich enough to do that on your own,” I say.

“But I want to do it with you. With your father’s money. That rotten, dirty money of his.”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Do you think he ever loved us?”

“Really?”

“It’s worth a thought,” my mother says. “All he did to hurt me. I know he hurt you too.”

“If you look behind you right now, you’ll see that he’s in a box,” I whisper. “He’s not here.”

“But he’s far from gone,” my mother says.

She lets out a giggling laugh.

Then she looks at me and her eyes fill with tears.

Drunk and emotional… the Tamara Sydney way of life…

She expects me to hug her now.

I’m not going to do that.

“You’re as cold as him,” she whispers to me. “I can’t believe this is my life. After all I had to give to you both and this is the thanks I get?”

“You’re drunk at your ex’s funeral,” I remind her. “Just wave and smile and leave.”

“Wow, look at my daughter do her thing,” she says. “I never thought it possible…”

My mother turns and wanders away.

Weeping.

Weeping loudly for attention.

Love returns to my side. “How’d that go?”

“Better than I figured,” I say. “I didn’t have to hug her or play into anything. I just wish for once…”

My words trail off when I see him again.

I tell myself maybe he’s a ghost.

We are in a cemetery, right?

The way he moves… it’s like he is floating…

Or maybe I’m floating.

I just know I can’t stop staring.

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