Studying the Dead

I swept my hand along the counter studying the grains that were etched into its surface, this was the counter I’d worked behind for over 3 years now and everything was so familiar to me.

There was the dent in the cupboards from when a rowdy drunken teenager had kicked out when we refused to serve him, there was the old coffee machine that Trudy, our boss, swore was older then her but was still trusted enough and had never broken down, and on the floor the skid marks from after hours when we’d had fun sliding on the linoleum when we were supposed to be cleaning.

‘We’, that was wrong. I kept saying ‘we’. I kept thinking ‘we’.

There was no ‘we’ anymore.

Trent and I had never been the best of friends, he was just the guy I’d known a while and got along with really well. But it hurt me so much now to think that he was gone.

He was never going to walk in the door with that huge grin on his face, never going to drop and break bottles on the floor when he was trying to learn new ways of serving up the drinks, never slide on those floors with me again.

Never.

We’d worked together for 3 years, he was in a few of my classes, I’d talked to him in the hallways and sat with his friends at lunch a few time and he used to drop me home after work because my house was between work and the dorms.

That was how much I knew him.

I was the kind of girl who knew just about everyone though. I got along with basically every person I’d ever met and everyone knew that, so I doubted Trent ever thought I was friends with him for any reason other then fact I got along with him.

But if that’s all he thought then he was wrong.

The urge to cry that I had been suppressing ever since the funeral suddenly overwhelmed me. I sagged to the counter, pressing my forehead against the cool dark surface, covering my head with my arms. But the tears that had poured out so freely at the funeral didn’t come again, it was like I was all dried up.

“Caitlin?” a soft voice asked, breaking through my brief moment of weakness. I straightened up quickly and wiped my hands across my eyes, acting like nothing had happened.

I coughed and started wiping my cloth over the bench like that was all I had been doing all along. Trudy came up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You should have taken a few days off like I suggested, sweetie.” Her hand rubbed circles on my back, in attempt to soothe me.

“It’s fine.” I glanced at the seeing her knowing look on her face. “I’m fine,” I said firmly, looking away again quickly.

“Cate,” she said sympathetically, trying to tug the cloth out of my clenched hands. “You’ll just end up being an inconvenience for yourself, you need time to mourn.”

While her words sounded caring and true enough I knew that she was completely wrong, I needed to be at work. I needed something to keep my mind preoccupied and going home was just going to give me time to think about it more.

“Do you really mean I’ll be an inconvenience to myself, or do you mean an inconvenience to you?” I snapped almost viciously, yanking the cloth to my chest. This was completely out of my nature; I was never vicious or snappy at anyone. Trudy didn’t take it to heart though.

“Honestly? You’ll be both. We can’t have you scaring off customers with your breakdowns every five seconds, that’s the second time today Cate. Plus you do really need some time off,” she said, painfully honest like always.

That’s what I liked so much about Trudy. A lot of women I knew reminded me of my mother, but not Trudy. Trudy didn’t tip toe around anything, if she had something to say she’d say it and even if it hurt, you knew if was better to hear it then rather then find it out later from someone else. Mum was the complete opposite.

I turned to look at Trudy again and saw the compassion in her eyes. She really was just looking out for me.

I sighed and let my shoulder droop, a feeling of numbness washing over me like a wave.

“Go home, sweetie, I can manage here without you for today,” she said kindly. I nodded dejectedly, letting her give me a one armed hug before going out back, throwing my apron in the wash basket and collecting my stuff from my locker.

I started walking down the street towards home when I realized this was the first time I’d walked home in ages, Trent had always been on the same shifts and always give me a ride home.

I let a sob escape from my throat, tears coursing down my face, standing stock still in middle of the street while people walked past staring at me like I’d grown a third arm.

I hadn’t even known him that well.

What was wrong with me?