Page 6 of When Sparks Fly

Despite the bodies seen and unseen here, it feels empty. Terribly empty.

Turning toward my usual room, I decide to get my bag later. The small foyer and narrow staircase separate the living room on the left from the hallway on the right, where the downstairs bedrooms and bathroom are.

I set my purse inside the first doorway on the right. A tattered stuffed bear with a red shirt sits on the queen bed. The sunflower quilt beneath him was handmade by Nana. My chest aches.

Venturing deeper into the hallway toward my grandmother’s room, I drag my fingers along the wall. A tiny part of me still hopes to find Nanareading on the bed atop her plush, coral duvet, but she doesn’t look up and smile as I enter. That image will forever live in my heart.

Fixed in her doorway, I peer around the quiet room. It’s entirely too still.

On the nightstand are a cup of water and two books. A bookmark peeks out of the one on top. A feeling of intruding tingles within as I step into the room, lifting them gently. Still, I clutch the books tightly to my chest. These are some of the last items touched by Nana’s loving hands.

A crater threatens to burst open in my chest and I force it closed. “I miss you already, Nana,” I whisper into the vacant room.

I grab the clear cup on my way out and set the books on the foot of my bed before continuing through the house to the kitchen, where everyone is congregating. Atop the stairs is a secondary living area, which Nana used as a small home office, as well as the main bedroom. I don’t have to guess if Stephanie and Alan have already placed their things there. The only way to the kitchen is through a hidden hallway behind the staircase.

“Hi.” My voice comes out weaker than anticipated as I set the glass by the sink and move to the dining table. I haven’t seen my aunt or cousin since summer when we celebrated Nana’s birthday. It makes me both wildly happy and desperately sad to see them now. Unlike Stephanie, Liv and Randi are warm, comforting people, much like my grandmother. Holidays and events were always easier with them around.

They stand and meet me halfway, the three of us squeezing each other in a smothering embrace. Randi brushes a few wispy hairs back from my face and looks me over and with an equal measure of love and sadness. Much the way one would expect a mother to act.

Alan is reading a newspaper, of all things, mostly oblivious to our presence. Stephanie stares silently out the dining room window into thebackyard. She turns to us blankly as her sister's tears flow freely. I remind myself to keep my shit together for the sake of my grandmother’s soul.

“I can’t believe she’s gone…” Randi recounts finding Nana without prompting as Liv strokes her mother’s sandy hair. “I stopped by to make dinner with her. She naps frequently, so I wasn’t surprised she was in her room.” Her voice breaks with a sob and she shakes her head fervently. “I couldn’t wake her.”

Stephanie turns to look out the window again. Her voice is ice. “According to the coroner, it was a heart attack.”

Silence falls in the room.

Except for the turning pages of the newspaper.

My medium is photographs. I’m shit with anything else, unlike Leah who has a gift for melding any scrap of metal into stunning jewelry by hand. Without a camera, I’d be lost. Still, my mind’s eye creates a painted canvas image of this moment. Gold Baroque frame, muted hues, a woman in black staring out the window. A tiny metal label:A Study of Mourning.

Stephanie’s voice breaks the silence before long. “Alan and I have hired a caterer for the lunch reception here, following the graveside service.”Well, that was fast.

“Thank you. I think people will appreciate that.” Randi sits again, wringing her hands together on the table. I seat myself next to her and lean my shoulder against hers, hoping to infuse some emotional support into her body. Her mouth softens into a hint of smile and she replicates the pressure against me.

“I think you should give the eulogy,” Liv says, looking at me from Randi’s other side. She twirls the end of her low ponytail after speaking. Stephanie pins her with a gaze, managing to appear perched on a throne. Ignoring the cold look, Liv adds, “And I’d like to write the memorialbulletin.”

“That sounds nice. I can do that.” I look at my mother and aunt. Both nod quietly in agreement. “Has anyone chosen an outfit for Nana?”

Randi opens her mouth to speak, but the words get caught. No one speaks as she swallows and tries again. “I know which one. Her navy dress with the white polka dots.”

Stephanie’s face softens. “She looked beautiful in that dress.” For a moment, her eyes hold a hint of warmth. An inkling that this isn’t just a production to her. Her mask returns and ice floods my heart again.

“What about a photo?” Liv looks around the table.

“I have one in mind,” Stephanie offers. “I’ll have it printed tomorrow. The funeral home has a set playlist they use. Will that be a problem?”

We exchange looks. “Nana would probably be happy with that,” I say.

A minute passes and no one speaks. Stephanie stands. “It sounds like everything is settled then. By the way, Nana’s lawyer will be coming by tomorrow morning to discuss the will.”

Everything is far from settled, but she’s steadily checking off her to-do list.

Chapter 4

Maci

Around noon, Randi and Liv leave, having been at Nana’s since the night before without sleep.

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