Cast & Fall by Janice Hadden Read Free Book Online Page A

anniversary of my mother’s death, a
painful reminder that whatever had happened to her must have been so
horrific that I completely blocked everything about her death. The
thought that I was the only witness and was unable to identify any
suspects and not able to give her justice and our family some closure
was a weight that I carried everyday. Steve had the hardest job of
explaining things to me while he mourned my mother’s death. For
several years he was afraid that someone would come after me and one
of the reasons we had to move.
    I
carefully placed the bouquet of flowers that were her
favorite—clusters of yellow roses, colorful gerbera daisies and
blue hydrangeas. I suppose not the typical flowers you would find at
a cemetery—but like her, she wasn’t typical. She was
special. Suddenly, strong hands tapped my right shoulder—it was
Steve. We came here every year to spend time with my mom. Though
every month we visited her on our own. Steve had missed her as much
as I have. Steve clasped his arms around me from behind and kissed
the top of my head. I took out both my hands that was warmly tucked
on the inside pockets of my blue pea coat and placed them on top of
Steve’s. A smile passed my lips, though, I knew he couldn’t
see my expression. But my mediocre attempt at composure ceased after
hearing his voice—the comforting words that I had heard once
before.
    “ Kat,
don’t ever think that it was your fault,” he softly
whispered. Steve felt the need to say the words that he knew I always
felt, that he didn‘t want me to feel— r esponsible.
    “ In
some ways I was glad that you don’t remember what happened. You
were much too young to go through something like that. You should
never blame yourself. Your mother wanted more than anything for you
to be happy. She loved you more than anything in this world.” A
silent anguished sob escaped me; I felt the stream of tears rolling
down my cheeks without a chance of going back. My emotions trickled,
tearing my heart out as it always did when I thought of her— oh
how I miss her .
She was taken away so soon. Echoes of her laughter reigned in my mind
as if she was gently speaking to me—her voice a whisper,
floating like a symphony. I knew she would want me to move on—that‘s
what she would want.
    Memories
of her came back to me at that moment, like in a dream-like
state—visions appearing, recalling a beautiful memory of the
three of us while hearing the most enchanting sound in the
background.
    She
had the most soothing voice. I was hearing it in my head, clearly. I
was glad, I still remembered how she sounded. Not one day had slipped
by when I didn’t think of her. But there was also another ache
that I feel when I think of her—a hollow, deeper sadness that
didn’t seem to root from her absence. I didn’t know what
or when it started. But it was always there.
    In
the past, I had wished I had gone with my mother. But I was glad I
was spared. I couldn’t bear thinking of leaving Steve now. I
was all he had. My mother was a lot like me in many ways; I looked
like her, my father said—her hair was dark, the same shade and
length as mine. Seeing from her old photos, the resemblance was
striking; her face was soft, eyebrows arched, her brown eyes were
always gentle like she was. She had the most beautiful,
porcelain-like skin and I was glad, I inherited the trait. Her hands
were soft. Her fingers were long and delicate when she played the
piano. I couldn’t play the piano though, she tried to teach me
but I wasn‘t a good student. I wasn’t as patient as she
was.
    Drizzle
of rain started splattering, turning heavy, washing away my tears.
Steve and I didn’t care, we stood there for as long as we
could. It was our time with her, and nothing was going to make us
leave. Rain soaked our hair and dripping clothes clung to our bodies.
We have spoken to her in our minds as we always did year after year.
    I
leaned against Steve’s shoulder. My heart felt