Nodding, he couldn’t look at his mother anymore. He was on edge and her tears wouldn’t help, “Yeah. I’ll get dressed.” He said turning on his heels and walking away. His back felt heavy, his insides were empty, and the world didn’t feel real.
Margaret rubbed along her throat and neck as she watched after her son. She shut her eyes and pushed her emotions aside before turning to Cherish. Cherish gazed into a few bags here and there but was in a daze. She didn’t know where to start. Margaret clasped her hands together with a smile as she rattled off a list of what they’d gotten for her, “We got new baby clothes for Jasmine. A few for Jr. of course. A feeding pillow, some blankets, pads, breast feeding bras, nightgowns for you and Jasmine, and a few sundresses for you. Something comfortable while your body readapts itself.”
Cherish clenched her jaw before she blew out a puffed breath, “Wow. Uh, thank you so much I…don’t know what to say.” She whispered.
Margaret gave her a half hug and shook her head, “Nothing. Say nothing more. How about we open the gifts when we get back. I’m sure we will to take our minds off everything.” She stated quietly.
Cherish rubbed her lips together and nodded, “Yes. Of course, that’s no problem. Whatever you all need.” She replied rubbing her chest.
Simon emerged from the stairs a few minutes later. He wore Emily’s favorite shirt she’d bought on their anniversary two years ago. Spotting Cherish and his mother, he sighed deeply to himself before he paused at the babies in the crib. He found that his gaze lingered on Jr. far longer than it should have. With a paced breath, he leaned over and rubbed across each baby’s forehead. Simon Sr. was outside smoking a cigarette as he approached his mother, “I’m ready.”
Cherish and Margaret stood only for his mother to follow him to the door. Pausing, Simon took a last glance over his shoulder at her who gently waved. He couldn’t hide the desolate expression behind his gaze, and she wouldn’t forget it. Margaret sighed as she nodded to Cherish, “We will be back soon.” She whispered shutting the door behind them.
Cherish paced over to the window, pulled the curtain away, and watched Simon climb into the backseat of his parents’ car. He ran both hands through his hair, leaned his head back, and gripped at his scalp. The car backed away and soon disappeared from the street.
Cherish was alone. She didn’t know what to expect when they’d return, but just as they were there for her, she would be there for them.
Chapter 5
There was faded, gaudy, floral-patterned wallpaper lining the walls around them. The carpet showed its age and how much traffic traveled through the room. Which only displayed how many people had to bury their loved ones. Simon sat between both sets of parents with the funeral director behind his desk across from him. While the man went over their options for the service, how Emily would be prepared, and what was needed, he didn’t hear a word. He was in a mental daze and didn’t seem affected by anything going on around him.
Miriam and Jack were inconsolable while his parents had silent tears clouding their eyesight. This didn’t feel real. Simon Sr. held his wife’s hand in his own while Jack held onto Miriam wholly as she cried into his chest. Simon simply stared at the man in front of him, “You can have wreaths, flowers, or mementos placed by or on the casket. Whichever you choose.” He explained as he scratched against his balding head.
Simon Sr. cleared his throat before he answered for them, “I think it’s best if we have all of those. She has a newborn son. Is there any way that we can honor her last accomplishment of motherhood or show him in the ceremony?”
The man wet his lips with a nod as he picked up with practiced verbiage, “He can be incorporated into one of the speeches. We have picture reels. Since she passed before they’d have pictures together, we can always show videos of when she was pregnant. If you have any. Some people choose to lay babies with their mother for a moment if it’s open casket. There are many avenues that are open to pay respect to Emily as a mother.” He answered.
Margaret cupped one hand over her mouth as she listened intently to what was being said. She stared at the portly director across his elaborate desk and tried to comprehend what was happening in that moment. Though the man spoke with a soothing, respectable tone, she saw a man who took their situation with the motto of ‘business as always’. She kept a steely, firm grip on her husband’s hand before she slowly turned her attention to her son who, understandably, checked out long before they’d entered the office. She clenched her jaw and cleared her throat, “I believe we will do an open casket, but is that sanitary for the baby? He’ll only be a week and a half old.”
Margaret’s question wasn’t something the director hadn’t heard before. He nodded and tried to comfort her about the idea, “On the contrary to popular belief, the dead are sanitary to touch and be around for quite some time. Some cultures choose to live with their dead ones for weeks before burial. Your grandson and anyone who wishes to interact with her will be perfectly safe.” He said gently.
Miriam huffed out a sob as she pressed a shaken hand to her mouth. She spoke out of turn and rambled the first idea that came to her mind,
