“Uncle Dave said you’d been in a car crash.” Deanna’s eyes swept over her, assessing her injuries. “But he said you told him it wasn’t serious. Yet you’re wearing a sling, and you’ve got a big bandage on your head. It looks like you were pretty hurt.”
“I’ll be fine,” Callie said.
Deanna looked at Kwame. “But he was unhurt?”
“Thank God.”
Deanna sighed softly. “Yes, thank God. I’m so glad you’re both here.”
As silence passed between them, Callie knew that Deanna was thinking the accident could have been much worse. That it could have taken both her and Kwame’s lives.
“Why don’t you come with me for a minute?” Deanna said, wrapping an arm around Kwame’s shoulders. “I’ll introduce you to some other family members.”
“Okay.”
As Deanna began to walk with Kwame, she gave Callie a look, then jerked her head ever-so-slightly toward the front of the church. She was letting her know that this was a good time to go and pay her final respects to their aunt.
Callie moved forward, her legs feeling like lead as she made her way to the polished mahogany casket. Floral arrangements filled the front of the church. Callie saw the wreath she was certain she had ordered, the one that read “Beloved Mother” and was brightly colored, made up of pink, orange, yellow and lime-colored flowers.
Also at the front of the church were pictures of Auntie Jean in happier times. She had been so full of life, it seemed impossible that her life had been cut down at fifty-seven from a brain aneurysm.
Callie stepped up to the coffin and looked down at her aunt. Tears began to fall again. She was comforted only by the fact that Auntie Jean looked peaceful.
When she felt the arms encircle her waist, Callie looked to her right. Kwame was there at her side, being there for her once more, offering her his strength.
“This is your great-aunt, honey,” Callie said. “You met her a few times when she came to Florida to see us, but the last time was three years ago.” Way too long.
“She was beautiful,” Kwame said.
“Yes, she was,” Callie said, and leaned her head down to touch Kwame’s, as her shoulder injury prevented her from hugging him properly.
“Callie?”
At the sound of the tentative female voice behind her, Callie turned. Her youngest sister, Natalie, stood a few feet away. A sob escaping her lips, Natalie moved forward, and the two sisters embraced.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” Natalie said. “It’s been so long.”
“I know. I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances that we are seeing each other.”
Natalie nodded. She shot a brief glance over her shoulder in Deanna’s direction, and Callie couldn’t help wondering if her two sisters were going to continue their feuding.
“And what happened to you? I hear—and see—that you were in a car accident.”
“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Callie said. She glanced beyond Natalie to where her uncle was sitting on a pew, looking grief stricken. “But I’ve got to say hi to Uncle Dave, and the rest of the family.”
“Yes, of course.”
Uncle Dave stood as she approached him. He seemed frail, weak with sorrow. He had married their aunt two years after they’d gone to live with her, and he’d been the only father they’d ever known.
“Uncle Dave,” Callie said, wrapping her good arm around him. She felt his frame shudder with a sob.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“Of course I would come,” Callie said, again feeling guilt.
Because there was no of course about it, at least not where Uncle Dave was concerned. How could he have been certain that she would come when she had so effortlessly put Cleveland in her rearview mirror? Yes, she’d been in touch with Auntie Jean and Uncle Dave, but less and less over the years, and she had seen them only when they’d come to Florida to visit.
“I’m sorry,” Callie whispered. It was all she could say. Because no excuse she gave to justify her absence all these years was going to be substantial enough.
But she was here now, ready to start fresh.
* * *
The funeral service was extremely moving, resulting in tears flowing from everyone’s eyes. Uncle Dave, whom Callie had only known to be strong, was inconsolable as the pallbearers took his wife’s coffin from the church.
The rain continued to fall, making the cemetery burial a soggy mess, but no one was concerned about the discomfort. All they wished was that Jean Henry could be back with them.
Callie had heard that rain was a blessing, and she only hoped that the spring downpour was a sign that Auntie Jean had ascended to heaven to be with her maker.
All Callie really wanted to do after the graveside service was head back to her old home and sleep for a few hours, but Uncle Dave’s brothers and sisters were hosting a repast for all the mourners at the house. Callie had no choice but to participate.
The extended family and friends had made all kinds of food and desserts, and after a few hours of solemn mourning, many people were now smiling and laughing as they remembered Auntie Jean. Callie knew her aunt would want it this way, but she wasn’t yet ready to smile.
“Do you want something to drink, Mom?” Kwame asked.
Callie was sitting on a love seat in the living room with her son, still feeling numb despite the chatter and activity around her. She wasn’t hungry at all, and had already refused his offer to get her food. She was about to tell him that she didn’t need anything to drink, but thought better of it. Her son was trying to take care of her, something she appreciated.
“You know what? I wouldn’t mind some tea.”
Kwame gave her a smile, and got up from the love seat. About ten seconds after he went into the kitchen, Deanna came into the living room and took the vacant seat beside her.
For a long moment, they were silent. Then Deanna sighed and said, “You know what I was kind of thinking today? Hoping…”
She didn’t finish her statement, but the lump that lodged in Callie’s throat said she knew what she’d been about to say. And while she had wanted to keep her mind from going there, she’d also had the same fleeting thought.
“Our mother,” Callie concluded. “You thought she might show up.”
“Auntie Jean is her sister, after all.”
Callie looked forward, her jaw tightening. She hated thinking about their mother. It always brought her down. Twenty-three years ago, she had waited by the window in this very house, day and night, for their mother to return, as she’d promised.
She never had.
“Maybe she couldn’t come,” Callie said. “I mean, maybe…”
Deanna’s eyes closed tightly, even though Callie didn’t finish her statement. But with all this time that had passed, how could either of them ignore the possibility that their mother could be dead?
Certainly, for their aunt to have died, Miriam Hart would have made it to the funeral if she could have.
So many questions where their mother was concerned, yet no answers.
Callie didn’t want to think about their mother anymore, so she said, “I know it’s been a busy day, and you and Natalie haven’t really had a chance to talk. But I’m wondering…do you think