Page 90 of Poetry of Flowers

Tillie’s father bent down to me and looked over to the car, where Tillie was watching us through the window with her big brown Bambi eyes.

“Alright, I can’t force her to attend. Just promise me you’ll take care of her, boy?”

I nodded quickly, “She’s safe with me, I promise.”

Jonas straightened himself and looked over to his daughter again, who pushed herself away from the window.

I knew she was scared her father would be disappointed by her decision.

“I’m really sorry, Jonas.” I told him before walking back to the car.

Yellow roses caught my attention, they were growing by the side of the old gate.

I had never been to a funeral because when my grandma died, I was too young to remember, but was sure you bring flowers or something. Crouching down, I took a few roses and made a little bouquet.

My hands stung from the thorns, but I was okay, Tillie would love them, she loved flowers.

Maybe I could find a few more…

There were even some forget-me-nots! Perfect.

I bound them together with my tie. If I didn’t go to the funeral, then I didn’t need to look like an idiot, and with cloth wrapped around the flowers, Tillie wouldn’t hurt herself like I did.

Tillie was lying on her side again when I entered the car and locked the door behind me. This time she sat up when she saw me, and I handed her the flowers.

“Your dad says it’s okay, I brought you flowers to make you feel a bit better.” This was really not something it was good at, but I’d do my best.

Hesitant, she took them from me but didn’t really look at them, her attention was on my hands.

“They hurt you,” she mumbled and took my hand in hers.

I shrugged my shoulders, “It’s okay, they didn’t even hurt that much, only a little sting.”

“But they still hurt you,” she argued.

“They made you smile a bit, so it was worth it, this is the first time you talk again.”

My best friend had stopped saying full sentences since the accident, it was mostly gestures or single words.

“You hurt yourself to see me smile?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“Well, not really like that, I just got hurt in the process.”

Tillie leaned down and pressed a light kiss to my fingers before she blew on them softly. Her mom had taught her this, every time she had fallen and scraped up her knees or her elbows, her mother blew the pain away. Of course, it was just the placebo effect, but I was sure my fingers burned less.

“Thank you, Kayden.”

“Anytime.” I smiled and nodded to the front window, watching our families sit down in front of the coffin.

“It’s starting,” I told her, and all of her attention transferred from me to the scene.

We watched the priest who started by saying words we couldn’t hear from the car, but it seemed like Tillie didn’t care, we just stayed quiet and watched his mouth move.

“Mom told me once that in France they made sure there were no open water sources near the deceased body because they believed the soul of the loved one will fall into it and drown.” Tears rolled down Tillie’s cheeks, but her eyes never left the scene.

“Do you think my mama’s soul drowned in that lake with her body?” she turned her head to me, and I could see that she was trying to hold her tears back.

I shook my head, “No, I believe that an angel rescued her soul before it drowned too. She’s probably in heaven with Debbie.”

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