Page 152 of Mourner for Hire
Harold Green hobbles over to me and asks for a dance and we do, even though he keeps apologizing for his bad knee, swearing he was the talk of the town once upon a time. I catch eyes with Dominic across the way. He’s mid-laugh—the kind that makes the lines around his eyes crinkle and the darkness in his eyes brighten. I think of his hard lines and his unforgiving nature he had when I first arrived. He was intimidating as much as I tried to stand my ground. But really, he’s just a softy with a big heart covered in tattoos and a false attitude.
Lucy pulls on my sleeve, disrupting my thoughts.
“We have fifteen minutes!” she shouts.
“Perfect! Help me pass out the glasses?” I ask, excusing myself from the dance.
She nods and immediately makes sure everyone has glasses while I stand on the porch, taking a fork to my hard cider bottle to gather everyone’s attention.
“Hi, everyone, if I could just have your attention for onesecond. The eclipse is about to happen in approximately ten minutes, so I hope you all are ready to watch day become night.” There’s hushed, polite laughter, and I pause to collect my breath.
“I also wanted to thank you all for coming to celebrate Annabelle and her life. I know that not only was she deeply loved in this community, but she will always be fondly remembered. I don’t have many memories with Annabelle. Understandably. And maybe that’s because those memories will pop up when I need them, and they’ll be just for me. And I hope that for you, too, Dominic. I hope there are memories that are sacred and wholesome and only for you. It reminds me of something I learned a long time ago: the first thing you forget about a person is the sound of their voice. Now, I haven’t heard the sound of Annabelle’s voice in decades.”
I smile, and we share a knowing glance across the crowd. “But I can still hear her voice. And I hope in the days and months and years of grief that follow, when you’re screaming at the sky asking God why her, why so soon, you’ll be able to still hear her voice, too.”
All eyes are on me, but I’m only looking at him. Tears are in his eyes, but he seems to be less devastated and more hopeful.
I make my way over to him while Lucy says, “All right, everybody! One minute. Protect your eyeballs!”
I laugh as I tuck myself into Dominic, eclipse glasses on both of our faces.
“You look good in these,” he says.
“I know,” I respond, and he shakes his head.
“Whatever, big head.”
“I thought we said no more name-calling.”
“I’ll call you whatever you want,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Just call me yours,” I respond, and he leans down to kiss me once more.
“Ten… nine… eight… seven… six…” the crowd begins to shout. The moon is already beginning to cast darkness over the sun, creating moon-shaped shadows across the sand. “Five… four… three… two… one!”
And with that final word, the world goes silent, and the beach is slowly blanketed in darkness.
The curve of the shadow is projected on the sand in tiny crescents until the moon finally reaches the sun’s center.
There’s a clatter of disbelief along the beach, everyone gasping for breath at the beauty and magic of it all. Lucy’s camera shutters, and she squeals in delight. I peer over at her, her excitement palpable. All eyes remain on the eclipse, and for a full two minutes, everyone is completely mesmerized by the same breathtaking experience.
I lean back into Dominic as he wraps his arm around me, his heartbeat an original symphony playing to the sound of what feels like the start of my life.
Everyone is overwhelmed by the magnitude of the event. Then, as the sun begins to reappear fully, Dominic slips something in my hand.
“I almost forgot: Lucy found this in the sand. It must have fallen off.”
The cold metal hits my skin, and I stare down at my charm bracelet. Only my bracelet is still very much on my wrist.
Dominic makes the connection at the same time I do, rubbing his thumb over the bracelet on my wrist and his other over the one in my palm.
“My mom’s.”
A rush of memory hits me. Nothing specific, more of a feeling. This reminder deep in my soul that I was once known and loved immensely by my mother. This memory floods me like a love I’ve never known. A love that is cinnamon sugar toast and dancing barefoot in the kitchen. A love that is goodnight kisses and sunset sand castles.
A love that is a soft landing and a safe place.
A love that feels like home.
