rheenger
Their linked arms make Arden’s gait even more awkward. He trips over himself, shaking his head and snickering. It is nothing unfamiliar. Being buddy-buddy with Lucy again is like opening an old book and recalling the lines that stand out even years later. And though Arden spends most of his time ruminating in guilt and worry, there are these tangible pockets of joy, like clear lucidity. A younger boy from an older time, spotting his reflection in the creek just before it washes away.
“I think so, too,” says Arden. “I can’t see your mom really hating anyone just for being different.” He follows her lead down a small trail of cobblestones and suddenly wishes it were autumn. The colorful leaves and chilly breeze, the scarves and trench coats. It gives a trip like this an unsettling beauty that would have followed Arden around for days. “I wish our moms had been friends, at least for some time. My mom…she didn’t really have anyone besides me and my dad, yknow?” Arden shrugged, hands in his pockets. They approach a familiar gravestone and Arden gives Lucy a reassuring nod to step ahead. I think she would have helped my mom the same way you helped me, he wants to say, but instead he just smiles and squints in the light of the setting sun.
“I’m sure they would have been good friends,” Lucy says with a small nod. She wonders how different their lives would have been, if their mothers had been close, but the thought only lasts for a moment. Lucy tries to keep her mind focused on the here and now- thinking about what if’s, especially those regarding her mother, never ends well.
They reach the gravestone and even now, years later, after visiting it hundreds of times, the sight of her mother’s name feels like a punch to the chest. Alice Holloway. Beloved Mother and Wife. October 10th, 1944 - February 24th, 1982. Lucy places her hand on Arden’s arm and gives it a gentle squeeze before she pulls away entirely to step closer to the gravestone. The engravings are starting to fade, just a little around the edges, and Lucy kneels down to brush the gathering dust out from the letters.
“Hey mom,” she says, voice uncharacteristically quiet and small. “Sorry that it’s been awhile since I’ve stopped by. Things were kinda crazy for a bit, like, crazy even for me. But I’m here now! And Arden’s here too. We’re going to say hello to Mrs. Rhee next.” Lucy runs her fingers through the grass absentmindedly as she quietly tells her mother what she’s been up to- she tells her about her album and how it’s still a work in progress, about how Mitsuki is really starting to settle into her new life, about how Mr. Bishara still cuts his hair the same way. She rambles, talking so fast that she trips and stutters over her words, but she does it with a soft smile on her face, eyes never leaving her mother’s name.
“I finished a song the other day.” Lucy shifts and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a folded piece of notebook paper. She plays with it for a moment, wearing away at the already softened crease, before setting it onto the grave, leaning it against the smooth stone. “I don’t mean to brag, but it’s pretty damn good. I’ll come back and play it for you once it reaches number one on the charts.” Lucy kisses her fingers and presses them to her mother’s name before standing up. “And maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll bring Arden back here too.” She turns to look at him over her shoulder and flashes him a toothy grin.
