“Did you see how many sunflowers they brought, Nance? You would have liked that.”
The kettle’s whistle startled me. I poured tea, only to realize I’d made two cups by habit.
My phone rang. I hesitated, hoping, against all reason, that it might be my mother, ready to break the family silence.
I found myself talking aloud.
It was Rosie. Her voice came through loud, forced-bright. The sound didn’t belong in my house today — too cheerful, too normal — like someone laughing in a hospital hallway.
“Cass, you sound tired. I wanted to let you know we moved the housewarming to today. The weather was too perfect to pass up. You know how hard it is to get everyone together.”
Hearing my sister’s voice, my fingers went cold around the phone, remembering how she’d rushed me out the door a week earlier — “Take Maple, it’s faster, Cassie” — before I could even finish packing Nancy’s snack.
“You know how hard it is to get everyone together.”
“Today… was Nancy’s funeral.”
