Good Man

Because I could not stop for death
He kindly stopped for me
The carriage held but just ourselves
And immortality
- Emily Dickinson



Giselle had been beautiful; inside and out. Her eyes had always glittered with a certain je ne sais quoi even when she wasn't smiling. And when she was, others felt the sudden urge to smile more around her. She had a presence that demanded focus on her and she wasn't even famous like her sister and best friend, Caroline. Giselle knew how to get to the core of problems, help with them, and offer solutions to put your mind at ease. And when she was married to the man she loved, and caring his child, she glowed. She was intelligent, kind, funny, caring, doting and, yes, beautiful.

And now, three days after her untimely death, her coffin was being lowered into the ground; six feet below the surface of her plot at Mountain View Cemetery; a request she had made in her Last Will and Testament. She believed in returning to the earth and, despite having gone to medical school and becoming a doctor, albeit as a psychiatrist, the thought of cremation made her queasy.

During the viewing at the funeral home the day before, Giselle had been laid out in her solid black coffin which was lined in soft, white satin. She appeared as if she were merely sleeping peacefully in her lovely, purple dress she had been wearing the day she told Tre she was pregnant again. He had made sure she was wearing that outfit. Other than that, he was unable to make any further decisions about her funeral.

Her parents couldn't bare to take over the task; losing their youngest was too much of a blow. Caroline was at a loss at what to do next, as well. She felt as hollow as when she first lost Mike, and the many months that came after. It was a sharp pain in her heart and it wasn't going away any time soon.

The only person who seemed to be able to keep a calm and collected demeanor and handle the stress of organizing such an affair was Ellis. Despite the reason for the occasion and her own amount of grief, she was the only one who had experience organizing and heading up large parties and such. After living in New York City, the city that never sleeps, and being a part of that nonstop, in-your-face mentality complete with her own form of deadlines in the fundraising, charity business, this was, technically speaking, a cake walk for her.

Ellis had chosen the coffin, made sure the mortician did a wonderful job in making Giselle look as beautiful in death as she was in life, and ordered the arrangement of flowers to be displayed at both the wake and funeral. She put together an itinerary of sorts for the day of the funeral; what happened when. First, in the Gothic Chapel, right at Mountain View Cemetery, there was a slideshow of photographs of Giselle growing up, set to a series of songs she had a friend in San Francisco edit the day before while everyone was attending the wake.

That made everyone bawl.

There was not a dry eye in the entire chapel.

Ellis had asked certain people she was sure would not break down mid-sentence to read a poem or scripture here and there while a pastor said words of solace to ease everyone's spirit, while speaking of Giselle's life, love and accomplishments.

All the while, Ellis was hanging on a string to keep her own emotions in check while playing the party planner for her own sister's funeral. And, all the while, Tre was loathing Ellis, deciding she was the best scapegoat for his anger and sorrow. On a number of occasions in the last three days, he'd insulted her, snapped at her, and informed her that she was not welcome to show up at the funeral, even though it was thanks to her that there was one at all.

Of course, she came anyway. Everyone else made sure of it, but it was difficult to keep Tre in check. Whereas Caroline had been angry and ended up more so taking it out on herself, Tre took it out on everyone else. As mentioned, mostly on Ellis who obviously was undeserving of the abuse.

And now, the immediate family was all that remained at the cemetery; the other mourners having left to head to the Armstrong residence where, once again, another after-funeral reception was being held.

Standing in a circle, surrounding a six foot deep, rectangular hole in the ground, they all looked down at the coffin being lowered as white rose after white rose was thrown down on top of it.

Sniffles were heard among the small sea of Giselle's closest, clad-in-black family and friends as their watery eyes followed the descending coffin into the open earth before them.

Then, slowly, they all turned away and headed for the limos waiting to take them from the cemetery and to the Armstrong's so that no one had to drive.

Gerard was at Caroline's side, his arm around her shoulders as he turned with her, but she abruptly shook him off and walked further ahead, joining Estelle who was leading Chloe and Mikey away. The MCR frontman was a little stunned by the gesture but took it in stride as he simply followed behind.

The only person left lingering at the grave was Tre, who sank down and sat Indian-style beside the hole. The men who would be filling the grave back up with dirt stood a couple of yards away, leaning on random tombstones, smoking and talking quietly between each other, waiting to do their job. Tre sensed their presence but chose not to acknowledge them.

They were, after all, there to officially bury his wife. He knew that once the dirt filled the grave, all that would be visible was a brown mound of earth. Patches of new grass would placed over the mound in time and in about a week's time, the tombstone Ellis had ordered would be placed at the head of the grave, marking where Giselle would be laid to rest for all eternity.

However, when five minutes alone with his thoughts turned into fifteen, Billie Joe hopped out of the limo and walked back over to Giselle's grave, leaned down and placed a hand on Tre's shoulder.

"Tre, man. C'mon," he muttered, much in the way he had to Caroline less than a year ago. His tone was sympathetic, urging, pained and tired.

"No."

"Yes.

"No," the drummer insisted with a pinch of venom hissing in his voice.

"And I said yes," Billie Joe snapped back. He was not about to see Tre take the same path Caroline did immediately following the death of Mike. "Get your ass off that ground and join us in that goddamned limo before I drag you to it."

Tre stumbled up to his feet and got right in Billie Joe's face. "How dare you speak to me like that, today of all days? I'm grieving my wife!"

"And you're the only one? We may not have all lost a wife, Tre, but we still lost Giselle, too. Caroline and Ellis lost their fucking sister and they're not falling apart like you. Mostly because Ellis hasn't had the time to because she put all this together without anyone's help and Caroline's clearly a bit too numb to deal with losing her husband and now her sister in less than a year. Paul and Joanne lost their little girl, Avarielle lost her mother and will never know her in person, so she'll need you to get with it and be there to tell her all about how Giselle was," Billie Joe spoke harshly but in a whisper as to be respectful of where they were.

"Fuck you."

"Like I haven't heard that before." The green-eyed man rolled his eyes, thinking back to Caroline shrugging him off at Mike's funeral. "C'mon."

"Go off without me, then!" Tre huffed and pushed his best friend away. "Leave me here."

"No," Billie Joe once more repeated. "You need to come with us and be with your little girl who needs you." He was, of course, referring to Avarielle who had come home from the hospital the day before and was mostly being looked after by Adrienne and Tre's sister, Lori.

"She'll be fine."

"You think being around your baby girl is gonna remind you of Giselle, and losing her?"

Tre was silent, but his silence said that he agreed with Billie Joe's question.

"Tre, you can't do that. Remember what Caroline went through? Remember how she pushed her kids off on everyone else, and when she was alone she tried killing herself?" Billie Joe sighed desperately. "I'm not gonna let you attempt the same thing and possibly lose my other best friend."

"Who said I'm gonna kill myself? You think I'm weak like that?"

"Caroline's not a weak person and she almost did. Grief, love...all of it makes us do some crazy ass shit, dude. It doesn't have to be like this. Think of what Giselle would want---"

"---She'd wanna be alive so she could be here and watch our daughter grow up!" Tre cut in.

"Well, she's not here anymore, not coming back ever again, just like Mike's never coming back, but we all have to deal with it and move on. You can grieve all you want, for as long as you want, but don't shut everyone out like Caroline did. Be the man I know you are and take all this in stride as best as you possibly can, man." Billie Joe reached forward and gripped Tre on the shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze. When Tre momentarily tried to maneuver out of the older man's grasp, Billie Joe held on. "Do it for Giselle, Tre. Do it for Ramona, Frankito and Avarielle. Do it for me, Adrienne, Caroline, Giselle's parents. Fuck, do it for Mike." A beat. "Do it for yourself."

Casting his blue eyes upward and over his friend's shoulder, toward the awaiting limo, Tre let out an agonized sigh; his own shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Fine." He caved. "But keep Ellis away from me. I don't wanna be near her right now. If ever."

"That's harsh, Tre."

"Well, if you want me to be a good boy and play nice while I grieve, return the favor by having her keep her damned distance."

Billie Joe frowned and caved as well. "If you say so."



Ellis walked around Billie Joe and Adrienne's house all day, after the funeral, in somewhat of a daze. With nothing else needing organization or her focus at all, she was finally at liberty to let her emotions play catch up. Billie Joe had already pulled her aside and expressed Tre's request, and she didn't care. She spent most of the time sitting alone, anyway, out in the backyard, on an Adirondack chair, drumming her pristine, manicured fingernails along the wooden armrests as she stared off into space.

Tears welled up in her eyes, she blinked them away, yet they still fell down her cheeks. She wasn't crying, however. It was more as if her tears were simply a side effect of staring off without blinking for a certain amount of time having passed. Then, when she did blink, a tear or two rolled down.

She wasn't sure what to feel. Yes, clearly, she was upset with her loss, but to what scale could she compare it to the loss others were feeling? She'd only known her sister a matter of days the first time around. She'd been five years old then, back in 1981, and Giselle just a few days old; just a newborn baby. The car accident which claimed their birth parents' lives would place them in foster care and separate them for thirty-one years. And just when Ellis had finally found her sister after so much time having gone by, after so many moments having missed out on, Ellis loses her again after only six months.

Perhaps it would've been better if she'd never found Giselle at all. Perhaps then she wouldn't have to deal with this pain. She'd lost her birth parents, and then her adoptive parents within the last five years -- both of whom to different branches of cancer, lung and breast, respectively -- and now, Giselle.

This is possibly why Ellis never married. At thirty-seven years old, she had no husband, no children. No familial attachments.

Well, of course, that was until she found Giselle, and learned she could have the sister she thought she'd never see again, and gained a brother-in-law, who apparently wanted nothing to do with her now, and a niece who was a beautiful bundle of joy, but such a reminder of her now-dead sister.

"Would you mind some company?" came a weak, female voice.

Ellis blinked again, another tear fell, and turned to her right, looking upward.

Caroline stood beside her, dressed in her rather somber, black skirt with a black and gray blouse that hugged her nicely. There were dark circles around her eyes, which were puffy from days of crying. There was not an ounce of makeup on her face, but her hair looked quite well-kept.

Ellis nodded and gestured to the other Adirondack chair, parallel to hers.

Sitting down casually, Caroline slowly leaned back and emitted a faint breath as she swallowed back a lump in her throat that was possibly another attack of sobs she'd successfully beaten.

For a few minutes, they lay in silence; the dull murmur of voices and music seeping just barely from inside the house.

"I don't know what to do now," Caroline finally spoke. Ellis didn't know what to say in response so she waited for Caroline to continue, which she did. "I haven't had the chance to mourn my own husband for a full year and I lose my sister, my best friend. That's just..."

"Cruel?" Ellis offered.

"Wrong," Caroline added, however agreeing with Ellis' suggestion. "Where do we go from here? How do we move on?"

Ellis shrugged. Fuck if she knew.

Caroline looked down at her lap and let her mind wander for a moment or two before suddenly smirking. Ellis caught the smirk out the corner of her eye and turned fully to inspect the gesture further.

"What's funny?"

"I was just..." Caroline laughed ruefully. "I was just remembering this one time when I was about six, Giselle was five, and we were playing with a really old scooter that, I think, belonged to the older girl across the street who used to babysit us from time to time. We had come home from church, from Sunday school, and we jumped out of the car and ran toward the backyard to play with that damned scooter...in our Sunday best," she recalled, her hazel eyes glazing over with the distant memory. "We were both in matching outfits, matching braided pigtails, but I think I was wearing sandals. I dunno. Our dad has a picture of it somewhere."

"Sounds nice," Ellis commented, mildly jealous of the childhood she didn't get to share with her sister.

"It was. We had so many great times together growing up. It was always an adventure. We played Barbies and My Little Ponies nonstop, watched She-Ra: Princess of Power and Fraggle Rock, and made forts out of couch cushions, blankets and pillows. No lack of imagination between the two of us." Caroline looked over at Ellis, a smile on her lips but her eyes void of any feeling. She still grieved and felt even more hollow than before. "It makes sense that I used my mind for artistic venues and she used hers for intellectual ones."

"A dastardly duo," the older female joked, listlessly.

"Yeah," Caroline agreed. "No power in the universe could stop us."

It grew silent between them once more.

Time ticking away.

Minutes passing effortlessly.

"I don't know what to do now..." Caroline spoke again, revisiting her earlier comment.



By the end of the week, Caroline's home was closed up, suitcases were packed, and she was on a plane with her two children, leaving behind California for who knows how long.