Page 6 of Sin and Seduction

“I’ll be right here for you,” is all he says as I take one last look at him before leaving the car and walking into the building, ready to see my mom for the first and last time.

3

Esmeralda

The rideback home was silent except for a few phone calls here and there from Sergio.

I held my mother’s matte black urn in my sweaty palms, staring at it the entire way home. It’s not as heavy as I expected. Her name is etched on the front, and that’s it. No birth or death date. Just her remnants in a giant-looking vase.

I’ve already decided amongst myself that I’m not going to keep her ashes. I’ll spread her along the beach and keep the urn itself for flowers. I decide that I’ll fill it with fresh flowers every day for as long as I live. I don’t need her ashes as a reminder. I just need life and color to live on.

“Can we make a stop first?” I say suddenly, about twenty minutes outside of the house, but I can see the ocean.

Dante gives me a puzzled look at first, but then he glances at the urn in my hands.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks.

“To the ocean,” is all I say, my head turning to look out of the window once more.

He keeps driving and makes a few turns here and there. Before I know it, we’re pulling into a beach that is completely empty. As we stop, I look at the urn in my hands. Tears form in my eyes, but I try with everything in my power to hold them back as Dante turns to me.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks, but I shake my head at him.

“No, thank you, but I need to do this on my own.” I place my hand on the door handle and step out, stopping as Dante calls my name.

“I love you,” is all he says.

I lean in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. He hasn’t shaved in weeks, and I love this rugged look on him.

“Don’t shave anymore. I like this mountain man thing you have going.” I wink at him, and he laughs, kissing my hand as I pull away.

“Happy wife, happy life,” I hear him call behind me.

I give him one last smile before turning away and walking toward the ocean, my mom’s urn feeling heavier in my hands with each step I take. I kick my heels off in the grass before I step onto the sandy beach. It is sunny outside, with not a single cloud in the sky. Summer has come early this May, and I feel it in the warm air that envelops me.

My mom loved the summer most. Before her addiction got the best of her, she would always take me to the beach when I was little. It’s one of the earliest memories that I have. She and I played in the sand, getting sunburns that we didn’t mind having. Today is the perfect day for what I am about to do.

I take the top of the urn off and stare into the white and grey ash that settles inside of it. A sad smile forms on my lips.

“Hi, mom. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss you.” My voice cracks, and I sniff back more tears, refusing to let them fall.

This is a moment of peace. Grief does not have a place here.

“I want to say thank you for what you did that day. I want to tell you that you’re my hero. I also want to tell you that you’re a fucking idiot, but you’re also the only reason why I’m standing here today.” Anger tries to fill my heart, but I shove it down.

A single tear falls from my eye, and I let it. It mixes with the ash. A blend of her and I once more in this life.

“I’m married now, mom. I know it was fast, but I never got to tell you that. I got to marry someone who loves me. Who would die to protect me just as you did. I’m married to someone who will keep me safe. He’ll watch me graduate, and he’ll be there when I open my restaurant.” I sniffle some more, the tears blurring my vision.

“I have a name for it, by the way, for my restaurant. I’m going to call itMay’s. For you and I. It’s going to be bright and yellow like our kitchen growing up. Like your hair.”

I grab a handful of ash and let it sift through my fingers, smiling as some of it clings to me.

“There’s so much that is going to happen, mom. So many bad and good things that lie ahead, but I can’t wait for it all. I can’t wait to have a wedding day, to have a graduation day, and an opening day. I can’t wait to fight with my husband and then make up afterward. I can’t wait to argue over whether or not we’ll have children.” I pause, trying to picture a little Dante with my eyes running around with bare feet.

The thought doesn’t completely terrify me.

“I can wait for kids. I have a whole lifetime to wait, thanks to you. Maybe we can just get a dog first. Remember the one I begged you for when we went to the shelter that one time? The one with scraggly, grey hair but had a constant smile on his face? Maybe we’ll get one like him.” I smile at the memory, picking up another handful of ash.

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