Dying Is Fine, But Maybe

Her delicate fingers absentmindedly traced a heart in the condensation formed from her breath against the freezing window she was slumped against, nearly paralyzed by thoughts she had all but forbidden herself to allow. Thoughts of that final night, of his lips warm against hers, of their bodies entangled, always familiar yet never dull, of his whispered promise of forever felt on every surface of her skin, the only promise she ever dared put faith in. But she must not think of such things, she couldn't, lest she lose her ever more tenuous grip on reality and shatter into a billion pieces.

The bus rattled along, pieces of other people's lives drifting in and out of her ears all but unheard. She could have taken a plane, easily, it wasn't a matter of the money, what with the life insurance. No, it was more about the journey, the mind-numbing hours spent staring out at the passing landscape. She hoped somewhere along the way from Syracuse to Seattle she would move from shock to resignation. It's not that she would be alright, she wouldn't. How could she be? But maybe, just maybe, she could find a new sense of normalcy, a sort of post apocalyptic survival mode.

The view from her window remained fairly unchanged as winter's hand painted a bleak picture from state to state. The trees dead, the lakes glassy, the grass all golden and broken, intermittent snow blackened with soot and pollution, piled up on each bank like so much forgotten trash. No sign of life anywhere outside of the constantly passing automobiles exhaling clouds of exhaust, windows rolled down only to dispose of ash and cellophane, litter floating to the ground far too gracefully only to aide in the decay.

“Five miles to Seattle,” the driver announced gruffly, his voice a jumble of static through the ancient intercom. “Continuing passengers get a half hour, departing passengers please gather your things.”

An army green duffel bag, patched and faded, and an oversize navy blue suitcase purchased years ago at a Goodwill contained all of Cora's worldly belongings. She hoisted the duffel bag over one narrow shoulder and lugged the suitcase down the worn out Greyhound steps with a whispered thanks to the bearded man behind the wheel.

Though there wasn't much in the overcast sky to ward against, Cora slipped on a pair of sunglasses that gave the effect of dwarfing her delicate face. Her lips, blood red and swollen from constant biting, stood out in stark contrast against the nearly translucent pallor of her skin. She looked as if she'd never seen the sun a day in her life. The woolen coat she wore did little to shield her from the icy wind whipping across the deserted parking lot, no matter how tightly she pulled it close. The physical discomfort came as a relief though, it was something else to numb herself against, another distraction. She welcomed it.

“Cora!” a voice suddenly shouted from across the lot. “Cora! Oh my God!”

Cora turned to see a familiar stranger running towards her bundled in a parka that seemed to swallow her alive, her golden brown hair bouncing merrily under her trapper hat.

“Oh my God I am so, so, so sorry I'm late!” she apologized, breathlessly coming to a halt, her arms laden down with coffee and a bag that smelled strongly of something sugary. “My car ran out of gas half way here and I had to wait for AAA and I had no cell reception and...and here's some Starbucks. I hope you still like chai tea lattes, I couldn't really think of anything to get you but black coffee and that just seemed really boring but then I remembered you liking these when you used to come visit with Gramma at Christmas...and oh my God I am like talking a goddamn mile a minute. I am so sorry. Just...just give me a hug you poor thing, oh my God.”

Before Cora could respond she was completely enveloped in her cousin's arms, the scent of vanilla and coffee filling her nose as, much to her surprise, she gratefully buried her face in Gemma's silky hair. She hadn't willingly touched another person since the funeral but something in Gemma's absolute sincerity touched something deep within her and she finally succumbed to the tears she'd been refusing. Sobs wracked her body as she clung to her cousin desperately.

Minutes later when Cora was able to somewhat compose herself she pulled back and gave Gemma an ironic smile.

“Hey, Gem. Long time no see.”

Gemma laughed, a merry sound that couldn't help but ease Cora's blinding pain ever so slightly.

“Yeah well it has been years hasn't it? Nearly a decade if I am remembering correctly. But we shall soon right that. We've got quite the car trip ahead of us to catch up.”

She looked up at Cora then, her cousin's nose still stuffy from crying and bright red around the edges. She couldn't even begin to imagine what she must be going through.

“Or that can wait till later,” she added softly, linking her arm through Cora's. “We have all the time in the world for talking, sometimes we all just need a little peace and quiet.”

Gemma's apartment was about an hour away from the bus station on a good day but with all the ice on the roads and the heavy fog that was curling low across the highway the drive took a good two and a half hours. Cora didn't speak a word the entire way, only responding to Gemma's occasional statements and questions with a nod of her head or a shrug of her shoulders. Some halfway decent indie music played softly through the shitty car speakers, muffled considerably by the myriad of squeaks, groans, and grindings of Gemma's beat up old hatchback. Cora closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in the white noise of it all between sips of the too sweet latte that was now room temperature at best.

“Here we are. Home sweet home,” Gemma said cheerily, easing the car to a gentle stop on the icy pavement in front of a quaint little brick building that Cora knew only contained two apartments, Gemma's being the upper one, the lower one being inhabited by a grumpy elderly woman named Lenore who made frequent complaints about anything and everything that Gemma did, including taking the parking space that Lenore had designated as belonging solely to her because she had a “bad back”, though Gemma said it was strictly due to utter laziness because even at her advanced age Lenore ran the Seattle marathon each and every year and didn't go a day without jogging the five mile radius of the huge park across the street.

“Watch yourself on the steps,” Gemma said, taking Cora's suitcase and leading the way to the multilevel staircase that ran alongside the building and up to her mustard yellow front door. “I salted them right before I left this morning but it's easy to miss a spot. These things are really just a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“It's not much,” she said, fumbling with her keys for a moment to unlock the front door and then holding it open to allow Cora to walk past. “But it's mine. Or ours I should say. Feel completely free to make yourself at home. The bathroom is the first door to the right down that hall and your room is the last door on the left. I had no clue how you might want it decorated so I kept things pretty simple for now. But you are definitely more than welcome to do anything you want in there. Paint, wallpaper, pictures, anything really. There's an IKEA about twenty minutes away. I figured we could hit that up in the next few weeks so we can get this place feeling more like home for you. There's also a lot of really good thrift stores around here that usually have some pretty good finds in the way of art and furniture, we just have to make sure to steer clear of weird stains, smells, and bedbugs.”

“Sounds good,” Cora said quietly. She looked around the living room and saw Gemma's shabby chic style clearly reflected in the brightly patterned, overstuffed furniture and eclectic art adorning every wall. There was something very comforting about the way everything seemed so lived in, nothing stark and unapproachable, nothing that looked as if it belonged in a museum or that couldn't be sat upon. This was definitely a room you would be able to eat in while watching an old movie on a cold winter night without worrying about stray crumbs or spilled tea. The huge fireplace on the far wall was just begging to be lit, the fluffy, cushion covered window-seat seemed perfectly made for curling up on with a good book, and there was definitely an abundance of those on the floor to ceiling bookshelves lining one entire wall of the room. This certainly did seem like a place Cora would be able to call home, or at least as close to it as she was going to find in her current state.

“If it's alright with you I'm gonna make a quick run into town to stock up on some groceries,” Gemma said, not bothering to remove her coat or boots. “It's the one thing I neglected to do before you got here. I figure that'll leave you some time to yourself to get settled in. Do you need any personal things like toothpaste or shampoo or a razor? Those are the things I usually forget to pack for myself when I go on a trip. I can pick 'em up for you at Walgreens if you just let me know what brands you like.”

“Well Gem,” Cora said, another ghost of a smile on her tired face. “I've been on a bus for nearly five days. I don't know that I could have done that without toothpaste or my breath would be more than a little funky. But, now that you mention it, I am almost out of conditioner and I would absolutely kill for a long, hot shower right about now. I'm pretty sure I'm covered head to toe in bus germs.”

Gemma laughed again, her pretty face lighting up. “Well by all means please shower then. I beg you. I have almost endless hot water even in this old place so take as much time as you need in there. I have tons of different shampoo and body wash and conditioner, there's even like twenty different kinds of bath bombs from LUSH if you wanna bubble bath instead. Help yourself to any and all of it. I'm kinda a bath product junkie. And if you wanna light some relaxation candles there are like a dozen or so of them in the linen closet, and take whichever towels you want too. If you need a robe I have a spare one hanging on the back of the door for guests. It's one of those really fluffy ones from Victoria's Secret. I think the matching slippers are in the basket by the hamper in there. And if you get done before I get back and wanna start a fire you are more than welcome to, the wood and the newspaper are already set up in there, you just need to light it.”

“It sounds like you've got it all covered.” Cora said, with a slight laugh.

“Call me if you need anything,” Gemma said, keys in hand as she pushed open the front door. “It'll take me awhile to get to town and back with the roads like this so don't expect me for a couple of hours. But I totally don't mind turning around and heading right back if you think of anything even if I'm already on the way home. With the snow and ice that's supposed to hit tonight I won't have much chance to get back there in the next two or three days. We gotta make sure we've got all the basics covered. Oh! And there's Netflix too. Just turn on the TV and I'm already logged in. Watch whatever you want and help yourself to whatever food I might still have hanging around. There's at least some really good tea and some Godiva truffles I have had enough self control not to gobble down in one sitting yet. They're yours if ya want 'em!”

With that Gemma disappeared down the stairs, the door closing tight with a loud click, and Cora was left by herself for the first time in what felt like weeks. The silence crept in on her like a thick fog and she immediately went over and switched on the plasma screen TV. Gemma's instant queue was filled with everything from romantic comedies to historical documentaries. Cora selected the first season of Downton Abbey and walked into the spacious bathroom to run water for a bath. Deciding that a relaxation candle was probably a good idea, she lit a lavender vanilla one and added two pink and purple bath-bombs to the luxuriously deep tub, their heavily scented perfume filling the air with a rich jasmine scent.

She undressed slowly, her body still cramped and aching from her days spent on the unyielding bus benches, and pulled on the thick pink robe hanging from the bathroom door, tying her heavy dark hair up in a bun. She forced a glance at her reflection in the mirror and was shocked to find she barely recognized herself. The weeks following Jasper's death had resulted in a massive decrease in her appetite, if not an absolute cessation, and she'd dropped nearly twenty pounds from her five foot ten inch frame. She'd already been thin and now she looked close to skeletal, her cheekbones even more prominent than usual and her collarbone sticking out at an almost grotesque angle. The dark shadows under her blue eyes were unnatural and lent her the look of someone who'd been on the wrong end of a left hook or two. Sleep had been all but elusive for days and was surely playing a large part in the ever present fog her brain now lived in. Even ordinary thoughts were hard to gather, but maybe that was best. Cora didn't mind the absent feeling, it was kind of comforting, it meant she didn't have to think about anything truly difficult. There was something akin to bliss in the veritable void she was left with.