Chapter 12 - REBECCA’S ASHESWe reached the lake two days later.

No camera crew.
No viral-video follow-up.
Just me and Maya.
Rebecca’s sister, Anna, met us there.
Maya carried flowers.
I carried the urn.
We scattered only part of Rebecca’s ashes.
Exactly as she wanted.
Wind took some toward the reeds.
Maya cried.
Then became furious.
“Mom is getting on my shoes.”
Anna laughed before covering her mouth.
I laughed too.
Maya looked offended.
Then laughed with us.
Grief is indecent that way.
It refuses to stay solemn.
Later Maya asked whether Mommy knew what happened on the plane.
“I don’t know.”
“If she did, she’d be mad.”
“Yes.”
“At the ticket man.”
“Probably.”
“And maybe at you for not arguing.”
That sounded exactly like Rebecca.
I stared at her.
“Who told you that?”
May you like
“Nobody.”
Apparently genetics could be rude.
Related Stories