"Easy, Willow," Miguel said, corning in quickly.
"Oh," Mommy cried. "I ache so badly!"
"I'll call Dr. Jacobi. Willow."
"What good is that? What will he tell you? Bring my baby back to me. Bring him back!" she demanded and began to pound her own body. Miguel had to hold her hands down. I winced with every blow as if the blows struck me. He held on to her firmly, and she stopped and settled down again, sinking back into herself like someone who wanted to disappear.
.
The funeral was so heavily attended that strangers thought a local dignitary had died. A sizable contingent came from the college. There were even some students of Miguel's. Of course, his family was large, relatives coming from Miami, as well as out of state. I never realized how many people Mommy knew and how many with whom she did business. I was surprised to see Daddy and half wondered if Mrs. Gouter hadn't been the one to remind him. Danielle was with him. too. I couldn't look at her. I was afraid she would have eyes full of accusations.
Mommy didn't seem to notice anyone. With glassy, empty eyes, she received their hugs and kisses and their words of sympathy, but I was sure she would remember none of it She was on some sedation and barely able to walk and stand. Miguel was truly a tower of strength, not taking much time to serve his awn grief until we were at the cemetery and the reality of little Claude's death was upon him. There, he cried softly.
When it was over, we returned to Soya del Mar. where Miguel and I greeted mourners. Daddy and Danielle did not come. but I was happy about that. Mommy didn't stay downstairs with Miguel and me. She just wanted to sleep. Food and drink and conversation lifted the shroud of gloom from our home for a little while, but after the last visitors expressed their final regrets and left, the pall rushed in with the power of the tides and once again d
eepened the shadows and the stillness in our house.
"Well," Miguel said, gazing at the empty room. "that's that. We've got to rebuild," he told me. I had no idea what that meant. but I nodded anyway. "I'll look in on your mother. Hannah." he said and went up to her.
Heyden had been afraid to come to the cemetery. I saw him at the church. but I barely acknowledged him. I was afraid to, but now I felt guilty about that. This was in no way his fault or had anything to do with him, vet somehow, he had been stained because I was at his home and had gone to him first after my fiasco at Daddy's house, rather than to Miguel and Mommy. If only I had... if only I had.
As far as I knew, Uncle Linden knew nothing of little Claude's death. I couldn't imagine Mommy 1.vanting someone to tell him about it. and Miguel wouldn't have done so on his own. After all that had happened and had been said. I wasn't going to suggest he be told. either. That bothered me as much as what was directed at poor Heyden. Uncle Linden should have been given the opportunity to be with his family, to comfort and console Mommy and me.
I would wait. I thought, for the right time and then ask Miguel to bring it up with Mommy. If they wanted, I would take on the responsibility of informing Uncle Linden. I really believed he listened to me more than he listened to anyone else now anyway, I would be the best one to bring him the news and help him understand it.
For the remainder of the afternoon, I sat alone on the rear loggia and looked out at the sea, watching the sinking sun change the shades of light and shadows, Eventually. Miguel came looking for me.
"How is she?" I asked when he stepped out on the loggia.
"As good as can be expected," he said.
I wanted to ask if she had asked for me. but I just looked out at the water,
"You should go up to her,' he finally said.
"Okay."
How sad it was that my going up to see my mother to comfort her and give her love was so difficult for me now. I walked with very tentative steps, delaying the meeting as long as I could. She was sitting up in her bed, sipping some herbal tea when I stepped into the room.
'How are you. Mommy?" I asked.
"How can I be?" she replied. It is truly as if a piece of me has been ripped away, a part of me has died. There's an emptiness in me that I don't think I'll ever fill. Hannah. My future has been taken away from me, and nothing will ever look beautiful, taste delicious, or feel good ever again. Pray to God every day that nothing like this happens to you," she said.
"It's happened to me. too," I protested. "He was my brother,"
"No one but a mother could understand," she replied. "The relationship is too special, too close. No relationship compares to it. These are things I have always known, of course, but it's different when it's actually happening to you."
She sighed. "I'm the one who always advises people to talk out their problems and feelings, and here I am hating every utterance. wishing I were mute. Perhaps I'll appreciate my clients more now." she said. "Just like them. I need time to mourn, to suffer."
"I don't want you to suffer. Mommy."
"Yes, well, it's too late for that, and it really doesn't matter what you want or I want, does it?" she said bitterly. "Miguel wants me to turn to faith. What did we do to have so deep and long a family curse put an us? How long do you pay for the sins of your fathers?" she asked. She wasn't asking me, of course. She was asking Fate itself.
She put her teacup down and lowered herself in the bed,
"Do me a favor, Hannah," she said. "and close the curtains. I want to sleep."
"But aren't you hungry or--"