take a sad song and make it better...
“God, I just know you’d be making fun of me.” Fiona pulled the sides of her sweater closer together as she knelt onto the grass before sitting down. She leaned back against the gray tombstone, the stone cool through the fabric of her cardigan. “Sitting there all smug while you made every pregnancy joke you can think of.”
Fiona had learned early on what life in a cemetery was like, an ironic thought to have in a place like this. But she knew loss, and she knew what these visits entailed. She had thirteen years of combined experience between losing her mom and Jude after all. At least they’d become more like therapy visits and a lot less like constantly reliving grief.
They were her confidants in a lot of ways, so thinking of these visits as therapy felt more accurate. Even if they didn’t physically talk back, there was something in her heart that would shift and make it feel as though they had.
She set down the fresh bouquet of sunflowers, yellow and bright against the green of the grass and the grey stone behind her. They reminded her of him.
“But at least you’d make it fun. Even if no one says anything, I still feel like everyone’s judging me for this choice I made. Like I’m a kid who got knocked up,” she muttered, folding her legs and resting her hand over her bump.
It had grown in the last few weeks. She was certainly more noticeably pregnant now, like a bloating that really had no intentions of dissipating, and according to her last doctor’s visit and the pregnancy app she downloaded, the baby was about the size of an orange.
Why they compared babies to fruits was beyond her.
Fiona rested one of her hands over the grass, as if reaching for his. “I just wanted to help, you know?” she mumbled before huffing. “I didn’t intend to sleep with him, my god, I’m not a monster. We just…”
She tugged on the grass, ripping out a few blades. “Look, none of that matters, okay? Regardless of how this baby was conceived, the outcome is still gonna be the same.” The slight chill that followed made her shiver, and for a second it almost felt like it was a response from him.
“I miss you, Jude. It’s been five years and it still stings, bud.”
She looked up at that, and sighed, a small smile forming on her face. “Q.”
Quincy Rochester. Big brother extraordinaire, and her sister’s worst nemesis. Ironically. She was going to kick these two, but another subject for another day.
“Hey, you,” he greeted, motioning for her to stay put when she went to stand, and instead meeting her down on the grass, taking a seat beside her. “Is this the only way I get to see you?”
Fiona smiled, twining her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder. Quincy dropped a kiss atop her head. “Two-way street, bucko. You know where to find me. The fact that you refused to come into town sounds like a you problem.”
“Well, that and two kids who have way too much energy and are in just about every single club with a name,” he quipped.
“Excuses. Bring me my nephews.”
He grinned. “So you can load them up with sugar?”
“Exactly. It’s in the super aunt job description, for all intents and purposes.”
“Liar.” Quincy let go of her arm and instead wrapped it around her shoulders, tugging her closer. “You didn’t tell me you were coming today when we spoke yesterday.”
Fiona shrugged, scooting closer to him. “Yeah, bit of an impromptu visit. I had some free time, and I drove by the flower shop and the sunflowers just spoke to me. All his doing, for sure.”
“Yeah, sounds like him,” he smiled, leaning back against the headstone, before glancing down at her. “How are you? How’s the baby?”
“We’re doing well,” she nodded. “Growing like a weed in there.” She rested a hand over her bump. “Morning sickness has mostly stopped for the most part, so that’s good. And you? And Cecilia?”
“Yeah, good. Cece’s good, too,” he told her. “Running the whole damn show like usual.”
“Waverly? She’s all right. Her arm’s been bothering her lately, but she’s been going to the doctor, which I’m glad for,” she told him, stretching her legs out and crossing them at the ankles.
“An overuse thing. She’s been working longer hours at Yesterdays. But you’d know that if you’d just… ya know… talk to your sister.”
Quincy sighed, sagging back against the stone behind him. “Fi…”
“Don’t ‘Fi’ me, you know I’m right. I say this to you every time you ask. I’m waiting for the day the two of you stop using me as a messenger. It’s been five years and you’re both being stupid,” she scolded, poking at his ribcage.
Her siblings had been at this stupid fight for way too long, and while she typically wouldn’t mind playing messenger, and despite understanding where they were both coming from, this was all getting to be way too ridiculous. This didn’t have an easy fix, this mess between them, but they were acting like children.
“We’ve all made a mess of our family over the years, some of it not by choice,” she continued. “But we can’t keep this cycle up. Life’s too fucking short.”
He didn’t say anything to that, instead bowing his head, clearly knowing she had a point. However, whether or not he’d listen was still up in the air. It went like this almost every time. She was an expert now.
“Are you still really doing this?” he asked a beat later, completely changing the subject. “Cause you’d make a great mom. A bossy one at that.”
Fiona snorted. “Shut up. It’s the right thing to do.”
“It’s your baby, though.”
“Biologically. Legally, she has parents.”
“Don’t tell anyone, I’m not supposed to be telling anyone. I’m supposed to tell a cake decorator for a gender reveal party I’m not even going to.”
Quincy shook his head. “Jude’d find all of this absurd.”
“I know.” She pressed her lips together. “He’d probably try to smuggle me out of the country so I wouldn’t have to give her up.”
He laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right. He’d probably already have the jet ready to go.”
“You know, we’ve been family for like almost fifteen years, and how rich you people are never ceases to amaze me.”
They giggled like children and continued to reminisce about their friend, their brother practically, as they tended to do whenever they met up here. Fiona hadn’t known Jude as long as her brother had, but he’d quickly become as important to her as Andi was. Losing him had been a blow she nearly couldn’t bear when it’d happened. But remembering him, and talking about it made it easier every single day.
Therapy. See? It was working.
“Can I tell you a secret, Q?” Fiona asked, resting her head on his shoulder again, looking out to the rows of stones in front of them.
“This baby thing… It’s gonna be harder than I thought.”
“Could’ve told you that.”
She frowned. “Don’t lecture me. I haven’t told Wave or Andi I feel this way because I don’t want a lecture”
“I’m not,” Quincy defended, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I just… I don’t want you hurt in all of this.”
“It’s gonna hurt regardless. For so many reasons.”
He pressed a kiss to her hair. “You’re not doing this alone. You’ve got us. And Jude and your mom are always watching over us. We’re gonna get you through this, no matter what.”
