Page 14 of When Sparks Fly

He leans forward in his chair studying the maps again.

As if summoned, Mama pokes her head into the office. “You boys hungry?”

Dad looks up at her and his expression softens. She steps into the room cheerfully, waiting for a response. Dad waves her over, pushing his desk chair back and patting his leg. She blushes, but sits.

Thirty-two years of love slaps me in the face. They’re just as smitten with each other as they were in high school. One day, I hope to have a love half as joyful as theirs.

“You must’ve read my mind.” Dad gives Mama a chaste kiss, and when she heads for the kitchen, he gives her bottom a gentle tap.

“Michael!” she squeals. We both laugh at her retreating down the hallway.

He turns back to me, looking lighter than a few minutes ago. “I like it. Let me discuss with your mother. No matter what, I think we need to find a way to move forward with it.”

Chapter 8

Maci

The morning of the funeral, I wake up prepared for battle. I remind myself to keep my temper in check before climbing out of bed.

No redness or swelling indicates that I’ve been crying. My hair does exactly as prompted. I’ve left it loose and miraculously not a hair is out of place. Everything about getting ready is easy.

It’s misleading and an annoyance.

Stephanie would say that even through your grief you should be presentable. But I don’t give a shit what Stephanie says.

I stare out the window above the kitchen sink, sipping a colder than preferred cup of coffee, and taking in the view of the backyard. The grass is uncharacteristically green, considering the drought and lack of a sprinkler system. Trees fan out from the back porch accentuating the hidden feel and providing intermittent shade.

Nana wanted to add a pergola with a bed swing further into the yard. I smile at the thought of it paired with string lights and a fire pit surrounded by casual seating.

Stephanie comes tapping in, her steps halting abruptly. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

I don’t respond. My knee-length navy dress is complete with a lace embellishment over the top half and finished with cap sleeves. Aside frombeing tasteful and one of Nana’s favorites on me, it has pockets. There is no doubt, I chose the perfect dress for today.

The silver necklace I’ve paired it with was a gift from my grandmother. I reach up to the tiny gemstone dangling from the silver chain, tugging it side-to-side.

“Maci.” My mother’s tone is a warning.

Adirondack chairs surrounding the fire pit would be a nice addition.

“Maci!”

Or maybe rocking benches.

Her mouth is opening to speak again, something I feel rather than see, when I interrupt her. “I am aware of your thoughts on my attire, Stephanie. You are welcome to wear black if you desire. I do not. Nor did I ask for your opinion on the matter.” I sip my coffee.

She huffs.

Alan’s footsteps approach.

When I turn, they’re standing side-by-side, taking up the majority of the cased entrance to the kitchen. My eyes narrow on Alan in a look of warning before rinsing my mug and placing it in the dishwasher.

“I’ll see you at the funeral home.” I brush past them, exiting the kitchen before either can respond, hiding the anxiety that races down my spine as I half-expect Alan to reach for me.

Randi and Liv meet us at the funeral home. We hug in turn. Randi struggles to let go of me and I don’t pull away until she’s ready.

“I miss her already,” she whispers when she finally pulls back, tears threatening to spill from her deep, green eyes. Her hair hangs loose and she wears a simple, black dress coupled with plain, black flats. Meanwhile, Stephanie’s blonde hair has been hairsprayed into submission after donning her own black dress—a long sleeved, form fitting number with a neckline at her collarbone. Up close, the black on black geometric embellishment can be seen in all its muted, sparkly decadence. She wears black suede stilettos with a triangular cutout at the heel to match.

“Are you coming?” Liv’s voice is soft as she gestures to the giant wooden doors of the funeral home. They appear as twin mouths opening to swallow us up. Maybe that’s just my grief threatening to break through. Normally, this space would be lovely for a family photo session, with its lush lawn and trees that flower in springtime.

---