Page 47 of Pretty Thing

“Are you okay,” he asks softly as my aunt goes on about the funeral home.

I nod and then take a deep breath that hurts my ribs.

“Aunt Doreen,” I say, following her.

“It’s okay, dear. I’ve got this,” she says, sorting through the flyers that Felix and I went through Tuesday. Despite my reservations at the time, I’m happy that he already did this for me. Even looking at what he chose was almost too much.

“Aunt Doreen, stop.”

She doesn’t.

“For god’s sake, Doreen, listen to the girl. She’s trying to tell you something,” Fred barks and then stomps toward the kitchen.

Doreen finally pauses in her tornado routine and looks at me.

“All the arrangements are made.”

“What?”

“The funeral is this Saturday. There is no viewing, the service starts at eleven and then everyone is coming back here to the house. The church my parents belonged to offered to do sandwiches, sweets and coffee. It’s all taken care of.”

She blinks. “But…I wanted to say a few words.”

“And you can. The chaplain will ask if anyone wants to speak.”

We stand there, staring at one another for a few minutes, not saying anything.

“I’m surprised you’ve felt up to doing this. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve always struck me as…overly emotional.”

Seriously?

“I wish my parents weren’t dead. But I’m fully capable of honoring them all on my own.”

She doesn’t need to know about Felix. It’s none of her business, and she’ll just use it to point out how weak and useless I am in her sickeningly sweet, yet condescending way.

“I just got home from my physio appointment, and I’m tired. I’m going to get changed and rest. We can talk more when I get up.”

I don’t wait for a response and head straight to my bedroom. It would have been far more dramatic if it hadn’t taken me like ten minutes to make it up the stairs, but it still feels good to shut my aunt down.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stare at the black cane with the silver metal turtle and immediately feel the urge to reach out to Felix even though he won’t even be at his studio yet.

Pulling out my phone, I send him a text.

Eden: Hey there, did you make it to your studio okay?

Felix: Not yet, stopped to do a little shopping. You okay?

Eden: Yeah, I’m fine. My aunt is here, and she is as domineering as ever.

Felix: Do you want me to come back?

I chuckle. That would be interesting, but I don’t feel like answering a million questions about Felix right now.

Eden: No, I’m just about to nap, but I wanted to say thanks again for today. I feel like all I do is lean on you.

Felix: I want to be here for you. I want to help any way that I can. This may sound crazy, but despite the sadness and our loss, it feels like we were somehow meant to meet up on that road.

I chew my lip.