Page 95 of Burn Bright
Eliot mutters, “Terrific student.”
“The best,” Tom whispers.
They set their roses on the dirt.
Mom continues, “But you would also say,bird, and I found that endearing in its self-awareness. All in all, you weren’t bad.” She intakes a sharp breath. “I guess…I will miss you.” She eyes me and adds, “Very much.”
I smile now. That sounds like her, and it’s about as good of an admission of my mom liking Theodore as I’ll ever get. Dadsquats down and puts the white rose on the dirt. “Memoria De valens vivat tamque vestri.”
I can’t translate the Latin, but I think it has something do withmemorial…memory?
Audrey nods like she understands it, and I have no doubt Jane and my brothers know the translation too. But it’s one of those many times in my family that I’m not really in the mood to ask for it.
Charlie says nothing, just places the rose with the others.
“You’ll be missed,” Beckett whispers, crouching to rest his rose on the earth.
“Forever loved and cherished,” Jane says in her breezy tone. Another rose tossed.
Thatcher adds his flower to the stack, then helps Baby Maeve with hers. Jane is seriously smitten.
I’m up last, and my knees sink into the dirt. I press a hand to where I buried the shoebox. “We had a good run,” I murmur. “I’m sorry.” It was my fault.I’m sorry.“Thank you.” I nod a couple times, then stand back up.
No one says a fucking thing.
It is hilariously quiet.
“Any other words?” I ask them.
Mumbles ofno, non, nope.
I nod repeatedly, letting this sink in. “No one’s going to mention why Eliot and Tom named him Theodore?”
A wicked grin spreads over Eliot’s face.
Mom skewers him with a glare. “Your tongue will be in a jar on our bookshelffermenting.”
He puts a hand to his heart. “My own mother would make me mute.”
“A gift to the universe.”
“A gift to your bookshelf.”
Mom raises her hand. “We are at a funeral. This is aseriousmatter.”
Eliot stops grinning. It just vanishes from his face completely. He concedes way too early. I look around, expecting someone else to chime in.
“Charlie?” I ask.
He shrugs, appearing bored.
I frown at the earth, then the sky, squinting. It hits me suddenly. Maybe they feel like they’ve hurt me in the past by not being more respectful. And so they’re trying now. “I hope you all know I love you as you are,” I say so quietly, but in the harsh silence, they can all hear. “I might be nothing like any of you and you may’ve never loved my pets the way I did—but I’ve loved you for caring enough to be here. I’ve loved the chaos.”
My life would’ve been less full without it.
“Don’t change,” I whisper, even knowing in time everything changes, nothing is ever stagnant. The earth shifts beneath us even if we can’t feel it. Trees will grow. Eventually someone might cut them down for lumber, then hopefully plant a new one in its place. “Please.”
“Can we…?” Audrey glances not that furtively at our oldest siblings. “Should we…speak?”
