A Summer Funeral

“And in your mercy, turn the darkness of death into the dawn of new life, and the sorrow of parting into the joy of heaven; through our Savior Jesus Christ, who died, rose again, and lives forevermore. Amen.”

Summer glanced sideways at the robed man standing next to her, his slight frame bobbing in the wind. His face was a mask of grief, but she wasn’t buying it. Father George had been chosen for her parents’ funeral not because they had been particularly close, but because he was the only man available for the job on a Thursday morning. His serene nature had comforted numerous family members over the past few hours, but Summer couldn’t bring herself to accept his condolences. What did this man know about her parents, other than the fact that they had died in a car accident three days ago? He’d read their names off a piece of paper, had dutifully recited the appropriate prayers, had laid them to rest, but he didn’t know them. Not like she did.

As matching cherry wood coffins were lowered into the ground, Summer took her place at the edge of the hole, two white lilies gripped tightly in one hand. The tent looming over the crowd began to weave as a large gust of wind blew through the cemetery, rustling the edges of her purple skirt, the one her mom had loved so much. She’d received plenty of reproachful looks from her family when she’d arrived in purple and yellow, but if there was one thing Summer Jenkins could not do, it was wear black to her parents’ funeral. They had never been somber-clothes sort of people, and Summer wasn’t going to disappoint them now. It was the very least she could do on this chilly, overcast, miserable, depressing day.

Dropping the flowers onto the lids of the caskets, she blew out a breath and stepped back, salty tears pricking her eyes. The rest of the family slowly came forward to say their final goodbyes before dirt began to rain down, pinging quietly against the wood. The sound echoed in Summer’s ears as she turned her back on the giant hole in the earth, slowly making her way back across the field towards her car. Its muted grey color was oddly fitting for such an occasion; so much so that it almost made her smile. Almost.

“Summer, wait up,” a voice called after her.

She gritted her teeth, already picturing the face that would soon swim into view. After a few seconds, she turned around to find a bouncy man in his late fifties scuttling towards her, scraggly beard waving in the wind. Jacob Hunter, her parents’ lawyer, had been trying to contact her the past few days, and each time his number had shown up on the caller ID, she’d ignored it. Now, however, she had nowhere to hide. She supposed she could always run him over, if the need arose.

He skidded to a halt in front of her, panting slightly. “I tried calling,” he began, smoothing his beard, “but I think your phone is broken. You should get that fixed.”

Summer waited for him to continue. She was too exhausted to play games today.

“Anyway, we need to talk. About your parents’ will, that is. I have it at my office, and we need you to come down next week to take care of it. Would Tuesday be okay?”

“It’s not like I have anything else to do,” Summer muttered, which Jacob took to be her consent.

“Great. Stop by around eleven, and we’ll get everything straightened out, all right? I’m really sorry about Margie and Bill. They were good people,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

With that, the older man hurried away, and Summer sank into the front seat of her car, resting her head against the steering wheel. The coolness of the vehicle’s interior caused a blanket of goosebumps to rise up on her skin, despite the cardigan she had donned for today’s miserable occasion. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. If she gave in to the emotions threatening to overpower her, she had a feeling she might drown. And so, with a sniffle and a deep sigh, she shoved the key into the ignition, and pulled out onto Cemetery Road, heading home.

Tuesday morning dawned cool and rainy, not unexpected for a city like Seattle. Summer lay on the couch, staring out at the drizzle as the TV blared in the background. The clock read 10:30, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up and function. For the past four days, all she had done was sleep and stare blankly at the television. Andi, her best friend, had come over every afternoon to make sure she was still eating, but Summer hadn’t been able to stomach much of anything. She’d cleaned out the fridge after coming home from the funeral, getting rid of every carton of leftover takeout, and dumping saran wrapped plates containing leftover potato bake and pot roast; she didn’t want to be reminded of her parents every time she tried to eat. It was bad enough without having to stomach the bitter taste of loneliness.

She heard the lock click as someone turned a key. The sound of pouring rain grew even louder, then became muffled again as the door slammed shut. A few seconds later, the end of the couch sank beneath the added wait of her friend.

“What if I’d been a murderer?” Andi asked, shaking out her long black hair. “You didn’t even get up to see who was there.”

“I knew it was you,” Summer mumbled into the pillow caressing her head. “I didn’t need to check.”

“But what if I’d been someone else?”

“You weren’t.”

Andi sighed, patting her friend’s outstretched legs. She’d watched Summer’s slow deterioration over the past week, and it made her sick to see her in such bad shape. The girl hadn’t showered in days, and her auburn hair hung limply around her face in greasy strands. There were dark circles beneath her eyes, and her skin looked pallid and gaunt. Andi doubted she’d eaten anything since she’d stopped by the day before, and reached into her bag, pulling out a box of chocolate ice cream and a spoon. Summer stared at it for a moment, then focused her disinterested gaze on the TV.

Andi glanced at the cartoon children running around in circles on the screen. “Rugrats?”

“It’s the only thing that was on.”

Scowling, Andi turned off the television and stood up, pulling Summer with her. “Well, it doesn’t matter. Isn’t your meeting with Mr. Hunter in half an hour?”

Summer nodded dully.

“Do you want a ride?”

She shrugged.

Andi took that as a ‘yes.’ “Okay. Why don’t you go grab your coat, and I’ll put this ice cream in the freezer. That way you can have it later.”

Without a word, Summer shuffled off towards the hall closet, not even bothering to change. She’d come home from the funeral and pulled on her father’s favorite sweater over her mother’s leggings, and hadn’t changed since. She didn’t care that navy and black didn’t go together, or that she wasn’t wearing actual pants. All she wanted was to be with her parents again, and the closest thing she could come up with was to wear the clothes they had left behind. If she had a choice, she would probably never change again.

Andi was waiting in the entryway when she came back, and led the way to her car, carefully holding the umbrella over both their heads. The drive was quick and painless, and fifteen minutes later Summer was sitting in one of Jacob Hunter’s expensive and unnecessary leather armchairs, Andi in the other.

“Thanks for coming, Summer,” Jacob began, leaning back against his desk. Beneath one hand was a manila envelope, and Summer felt her stomach turn. Her parents’ last wishes were in that folder, and she didn’t know if she could handle it. She reached across the space for Andi’s hand.

Jacob patted the envelope and smiled down at them. “As you may have guessed, this is your parents’ last will. It is my job to make sure you read it, and that their final wishes are carried out.”

Summer thought it was strange that a man who couldn’t possibly know what her parents would have wanted now, essentially, held her life in his hands.

“Let’s begin.” He went around to take a seat behind his overcompensating desk, then pulled a large document from the folder. “Would you like to read it, or should I?”

Numbly, Summer held out her hands. The paper was crisp beneath her fingers, and she immediately recognized her mother’s handwriting. Drawing in a shuddering breath, she began to read.

Dearest Summer,

If you’re reading this letter, it means that your father and I are obviously both dead. And we are so sorry to have left you alone in this world without your parents. We can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now, but know that if we could be there, we would.

Something caught in Summer’s throat as she re-read the word. Dead. It looked so official, written there in her mother’s loopy doctor’s script. Biting the insides of her cheeks, she continued.

If you’re reading this before you turn eighteen (which, we hope, you aren’t), we want to make sure that you aren’t without a guardian, so you’ll be going to stay with your Aunt Sue and Uncle Joe in Port Summer. We know you think Aunt Sue is a little whack (I believe those were your exact words), but she’ll grow on you – just give her a chance. She makes a mean cherry torte. We’re sorry to make you move, but we don’t have anyone in Seattle that could take care of you. You probably want to stay with Andi, but we couldn’t ask that of her parents. Moving is going to suck, but you’ve always been good at readjusting. We’re sure you’ll be fine. Maybe not at first, but eventually.

Everything in our bank account is yours now. So is the house, when/if you’re ready to move back someday. We hope that you don’t hate us for uprooting you and sending you across the country, but Maine is nice. Hopefully you’ll grow to like it. Remember, your father and I met and grew up there, so it can’t be that bad. It’s your namesake, after all.

Also, even though our money is yours now, please give a small amount of it to your aunt and uncle – they’re doing a great thing by taking you in. They don’t have much, but they have enough, and they love you. Let them know that this is our way of repaying them.

We’re attaching two other letters with our will, for you to read whenever you feel ready. Don’t let Jacob force you into reading them – it’s your decision.

Lastly, there’s one thing we need you to remember: Remember that we love you, Summer. No matter what happens, we love you.

Love,
Mom & Dad

Summer stared down at the words blurring before her eyes, her mind a whirlwind of activity. Words like ‘move,’ ‘Aunt Sue,’ and ‘Maine’ jumped out at her, but she couldn’t quite grasp their overall meaning. Desperately, she shoved the paper into her friend’s hands. Andi skimmed over it, and when she looked up, her eyes were wet with tears.

“You can’t leave,” she whispered, squeezing Summer’s hand. “You can’t! It’s not fair!”

Summer snatched the letter back up and re-read it, hoping she had misunderstood her parents’ words. You’ll be going to stay with your Aunt Sue and Uncle Joe in Port Summer. In Maine. On the other side of the country. Alone.

“Do I have to?” she asked Jacob, who had remained silent this entire time.

“’Fraid so, kiddo. You’ll have to call your aunt and uncle and book a flight as soon as possible. You’re a minor, so unless you want me to call social services…”

“No,” Summer muttered, handing back the letter. “You call them.” She pulled her coat tight as she stood up. Without waiting for Andi, she marched out of the office and into the afternoon drizzle. Water caught in her hair and coated her cheeks, seeping into her clothes and making her shiver. She wondered if it rained a lot in Maine.

Taking a seat on a bench outside Mr. Hunter’s office, she watched people as they hurried past, lost in a sea of umbrellas. Most of them were smiling, chatting away happily with their companions. Little girls clung to their mother’s hand, squealing as water filled their shoes. Summer watched this all with a tight-lipped frown, wishing her own mother was there to hold her hand.

A while later, Andi came out and sat down beside her, a defeated look on her face. A manila envelope lay forgotten in her lap as she rested her head on Summer’s shoulder. “You leave on Friday morning.”

In that moment, Summer didn’t think it was possible to feel any more alone.

Copyrighted by SamanthaNicole