Picking Up the Pieces

I stood stock still in my seat, my hands in my lap. My face betrayed no emotion, my eyes held no tears. To others, I looked like a cold-hearted bitch in mourning clothes, not shedding one tear for her deceased father.

I was an orphan, but I wasn’t so selfish as to be feeling sorry for myself. There were people who were as old as Lily and Renee and they were orphans. I was freaking twenty; there was no reason for me to be complaining. I was an old woman! And an old maid.

I mentally slapped myself. I was going crazy.

I took a deep breath and calmed my unsteady heart beat. The pastor was busy listing Dad’s good qualities in his dull, dreary voice. Like he knew anything about Dad.

Four years, four years he was missing. We heard nothing from him in those four years. And the first time we hear from him, he’s dead.

Apparently, he was ended up in a asylum in Hong Kong and stayed there for those four years. They had found him wandering around and took him in. Four years later, he died a death by himself. Unlike Mom, who was surrounded by her loving family, except her husband.

When they realized that he was dead, they got information and sent his body over to New York because they knew Seth and I lived there.

People who knew Dad were taking turns giving speeches about him. Seth had gone, and so had Steve, Dad’s personal assistant. Lily was sitting on the left of me, sucking her thumb. She was four now and had no clue what was going on. She had only seen Dad once in her life, and it hadn’t been for long.

Renee sat next to Lily, her thumb also in her mouth. They were only a couple of months apart and were like sisters and were best friends, even though they were aunt and niece.

They had already buried Dad’s casket, and I lifted Lily onto my shoulders to see him. She didn’t cry, just asked, “Why’s Daddy sleeping?” It almost made my stone-like heart explode. Then again, anything Lily did almost broke my heart.

Soon enough, it was my turn to give a speech. My hands were slightly sweating, and I stood up, smoothing out my new black dress. I walked slowly to the podium and positioned the mic to my mouth. I noticed people clucking at me in disapproval, and some saying, “Not even sad for her father, cruel girl,” and some saying, “Don’t say that. Poor girl’s probably broken inside.”

Lady, I said silently, I broke a long time ago. I took out my note cards from my purse and laid them down in front of me, glancing to make sure I remembered what to say.

I cleared my throat. “The definition of ‘dad’ is simple enough: a male parent,” I began, my voice shaking slightly. I steadied it and continued. “But my dad was more than that. He made time for his children, no matter how tired he was. He taught us everything we would need to know in life. He played games, told stories, was always there. Looking out for us.” I paused and scanned the crowd. Lily was looking at me in puzzlement and Seth gave me a nod of approval. “But my dad has a habit of running away from things when it gets bad.” There were gasps at that. “When Mom got pregnant, he left. And he stayed gone. Because he was scared. He came only once to see his newest child, my sister Delilah.” Peoples’ eyes got rounder and rounder. “I do not wish to speak ill of the dead. But I forgive him because I love him. I loved him to death, and he’s dead. I’d love him to life if he would come back to us.” There were scattered giggles, slight chuckled, a smile or two. “No matter what, there’s nothing I can do to clean my debt to my dad. After all he’s done to us, there’s still nothing I can do to clear my debt. I have no desire to. I just wish that one day...I could be half the parent he was. That is my one wish.” Another pause. “Thank you.” The clapping was soft and appreciated. I struggled to smile, but gave up and sat in my seat.

“What did you say, Jordy?” Lily asked.

“I said that Daddy was the best,” I said quietly as the next person took the stage, my dad’s mom.

“Okay,” she said simply.

When the funeral was over, a man dressed in a crisp black suit approached the microphone and tapped it to get everybodys’ attention. “Excuse me,” he said politely. “Everybody may leave, except for the late Mr. Hills oldest children, Miss Jordan and Mr. Seth.” Pause. “That will be all.” He replaced the microphone and sat down professionally on one of the chairs, perhaps waiting for the area to clear out.

I waited with Seth until everyone had left. Marie had shepherded Renee and Lily to their car to wait for us since they were starting to get fussy and hungry.

Seth looked nervous; he kept licking his lips and wiping his brow. He seemed to be sweating right through his tuxedo. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I think I have an idea what the will is going to say,” he said.

“What?”

“I think it would be better if you waited in the meeting room, Danny. Let me hear what he has to say, and then I’ll tell you.”

“Why?” I demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“Just go, Danny,” he said, in a tone of demand.

No matter how old I got, he was still my older brother and made me listen to him no matter what. I huffed and walked into the meeting room as Seth approached the man in the suit.

The meeting room was big, air-conditioned, and mostly held a long table and about thirty chairs. I hopped onto the edge of the table and crossed my legs, waiting impatiently for my brother to come and tell me what happened.

Ten minutes later, Seth slipped in, looking slightly hassled.

“What did he say?” I demanded.

“Uh...” He tugged at his collar. “You won’t like this...”

All of a sudden, I had a flashback:

“Also?” I prompted.

“It said that when the time comes, if you please would not be angry at her or Dad for long,” Seth answered.

“What? When what time comes? What are you talking about?”

“What did it say, Seth!” I exclaimed.

“You know Molly?”

“Of course, dumb-shit.”

“Shut up, Danny, and listen! You know how she got an arranged marriage to...uh, who was it? Mark?”

“Yes...”

“You remember how that one time when we were really young, Mom went out with Dad to go to a meeting?”

“Yes...”

“Do you know what was the purpose of that meeting?”

“No...”

“Apparently, for generations, since, I don’t know, six generations ago, Hills have been marrying the Travels closest to their age.”

“And that means...”

“Um...the thing is...you have to get married to a Travel.”

“But...aren’t we related if it comes down to that? Since Hills have been marrying Travels?”

“No, Danny. It skips two generations. You have to marry him.”

“Marry who?”

“Lucas Travel.”

And all of a sudden, my world crashed around my ears.

Oh shit.