Page 52 of The Other Side of Green

My grams.

Her skin too smooth. The gray wire of her hair carefully styled back from her face. She lay strangely expressionless.

“She doesn’t look like herself.”

Jack’s hand tightened. “Of course she doesn’t. She’s not here anymore.”

I turned slightly, carefully looking at the emotions he wore on his face. “Where is she then, Jack?”

“Where she’s meant to be.”

“Where is that?”

“You know,” he whispered.

My chest tightened. “You do believe.” It wasn’t a question.

“I never said I stopped. Maybe God stopped believing in me.”

“You saying that in front of Gram? She’ll haunt you.”

His green eyes glistened. “Good, then we wouldn’t have to say goodbye.”

“We do though, don’t we?” My breath tightened, strangling me, weakening my legs. Jack tightened his hold on my hand further and gave me a simple nod.

“Want me to speak first?” My heart swelled with a single boom of pulsing blood. I wanted to drown and never surface.

“Please.”

Jack didn’t let go of my hand, but turned with straight shoulders to Grams, his swallow bobbing his throat. “Thank you, Grams,’ he paused, “for keeping me safe, feeding me, watching me.” A stretch of silence encompassed the room until he spoke again. “For giving me my first hiding, teaching me right from wrong.” He dropped his head, still never letting go of his grasp on me. “I’m sorry it looks like I’ve forgotten the lesson. I promise I haven’t.” Droplets rolled down his face landing on the black of his suit jacket and absorbing into little dark patches of stain, a unique pattern of grief. My own tears rushed faster, running into my mouth until my tongue tangled with saltwater.

I’d seen Jack hurt, really hurt, but I’d never seen him cry until today. Somehow it buoyed me up like I’d finally reached the lifeboat that would save me.

“Okay.” I shuddered a labored breath and turned for Grams, letting go of Jack and reaching to touch her smooth, cool skin. I peered closer, seeking cinnamon and setting lotion. Nothing tanged the air between us and in that moment her leaving finally made sense. It slotted together and I knew she had gone. Forever. My path now stood alone, stretching in curves and turns that no longer held any illumination.

“I’ll do you proud, Grams, I swear it. I’ll do the right thing, no matter how hard it might be.” Stupidly I waited for her to answer.

“I’ll fly, always, for you.”

Fly, Lyra. Fly.

I leaned closer, the coolness of her skin unsettling. “I don’t know where I’ll fly yet, but I promise I will.”

My nose almost touched hers, serene and calm. I kissed her cheek while my heart thudded uneven. Then I saw it, leaning a little closer, a frown gently creased the skin between her eyebrows, like they hadn’t quite been able to ease it at the funeral parlor. She looked on the cusp of about to tell us off, or to chase us with her slipper.

I smiled, warmth running through my bones. “I hope you find Pops, Gram. I know he will be waiting for you.

I straightened up and turned for Jack. Despite the tears still on my cheeks, the tight band around my chest, the heaving ache in my heart, I said, “I think I can do this.”

“Of course you can.” He looked at me with so much pride it turned me inside out, until the weight of the secret I still kept flipped me back over and put my feet firmly back on the floor.

Just then a knock landed on the front door. “I think that will be the funeral directors,” Jack said.

“I think it will.” I pulled myself upright, determined to be as strong as the woman I was grieving for.

“Shall I go and let them in?” Jack asked.

“It’s okay.” I pulled away from him, hearing his audible sigh. “Thanks, Jack, but I’ve got it.”