Masterpiece

THE FUNERAL was held early Sunday morning, just two weeks after Megan's passing. Her mother and her sister stood on either side of me, sniffling under black veils as our local pasture said a prayer. I stood quietly, looking down at the shiny black shoes that I had only worn once before; at our wedding. The thought caused my jaw to clench and I had to look up to keep from crying as the pasture closed his prayer and the small crowd of Megan's closest friends and family muttered a simultaneous 'amen'. My eyes locked on the large, white casket and my breath caught. It was hard to believe that Megan -- the love of my life -- was lying in there, lifeless.

"Would anyone like to say a few words about Megan?"

No one moved at first and I could feel the pastor's eyes on me. I knew I should say something. I had prepared a speech over a week ago but now all I could think is how Megan knew I hated black suits and how she's giggle at the sight of me in one now. I tugged at the maroon tie my brother had lent me and continued to stare at the casket. Beside me, I felt Megan's sister shift and I knew she was about to make a speech. I didn't want to hear it, I really didn't want to hear about how the two grew up because I already knew how they grew up. Danielle used to follow Megan around when they were kids, copying everything Megan had done and annoying the shit out of her. They weren't close now and I didn't want to hear how Danielle regretted not getting to know her sister as an adult because I had my own regrets to think about.

"Megan was beautiful," Danielle started, scrunching her nose in a way that resembled Megan when she was about to cry. I ran a hand through my hair and tried to give her an encouraging smile as she looked at the crowd. "I remember growing up, all I ever wanted to be was Megan."

I stepped away for a moment, excusing myself as quietly as I could to her mother, Leah. She was weeping quietly, her entire body trembled beside me and I worried she might collapse on the ground. I wouldn't have been able to do anything if she had, I'd probably fall with her and we'd weep together as the crowd looked on with pity.

I pushed through the crowd and walked far enough away so that I couldn't hear the rest of Danielle's speech. I found a bench and sat down where, cradling my head in my hands, I began to cry. My clothes pushed against my body as the wind picked up and a few leaves flew into my hair. I quickly brushed them away and licked my lips, they had chapped over the past couple of days since the cold front had rolled in and if Megan had seen them like that, she would hand me her cherry chapstick and force me to use it every hour on the hour like she had every year since we had started dating. I fumbled around in my pocket for the small stick of lip balm and smiled when my fingers brushed across its smooth surface.

"Hey Vince."

Startled, I looked up to see my father standing before me. In the three years since I had last seen him, he had grown fatter and lost most of the hair on his head. He was dressed casually so I knew he hadn't been at the funeral earlier. He smiled and sat down beside me, placing his arm around my slumped shoulders. I couldn't look at him. Somehow, his presence here made everything real and I knew that if I looked at him, it would be like accepting that Megan was really gone.

"I'm so sorry, Son," he said. I could feel his body tremble when he spoke, as if he had known Megan well enough to actually be affected by the loss of her. "I know you loved her, and it's a sad thing to see someone so young-"

"Please," I whispered, causing him to stop mid sentence. "Please, just don't." I looked at my father with tears slowly forming in my eyes. He cast me another sad smile and nodded. Then, he removed his arm from around my shoulders and leaned back against the bench.

"You've never lost someone before, have you?"

"No," I muttered helplessly. My voice cracked and I wanted to scream. My father should know that I hadn't lost anyone, his own parents were still living and he had never let me have a pet when I was a kid.

"Well I have," he admitted, causing me to look at him. "It was a long time ago, years before I had even met your mother. I was about fourteen and there was this girl that lived down the street from me; I had fallen for her about a year before she passed. We had spent every day together until one day, she didn't ring our doorbell. I waited and waited for that damn bell to ring but it never did and I got upset. I cursed her name and swore I would never speak to her again even if she begged and that's when my mother told me what had happened to little Annie."

"Dad," I said. I sat up straight and looked at my father through squinted eyes. I caught the glint of his glass eye and frowned. "No offense, but I kind of already know where this is going and I really just... Don't want to hear it."

Anyone else would have thought that I was rude and probably would have left me alone right then and there but my father simply laughed and shook his head. He clapped his hand over my shoulder once more and gave it a tight squeeze. Nothing more was said between the two of us, we sat in an uncomfortable silence until people started to leave Megan's gravesite. I stood up, not bothering to bid my father goodbye, and headed back towards where Megan's mother and sister stood.

It might sound selfish, but I wished they would leave so I could be alone with Megan one last time before she was buried in the ground forever. I stared at the ground with my jaw clenched tightly even as the pastor walked over to us and placed his hand on each of our shoulders. He leaned in close to Megan's mother and whispered a few words before finally leaving. Danielle left soon after that, her boyfriend had returned after the service and helped her to the car; he returned only to ask if Leah would like a ride home. Much to my dismay, she turned him down, asking for a little more time with her daughter.

We stood side by side for a long time, so long that the men left with the task of burying Megan actually left. My feet began to ache so I sat down, staring at the gray slab of stone that towered over Megan's grave. I read the words over and over, each time the words seemed to make my heart ache even more than before. I could feel the familiar short breaths begin again and I knew that I was about to cry for what seemed like the millionth time. I closed my eyes and silently begged for the tears to stop. I tried to squeeze away the tears, even going as far as to press my fingers against my eyes but that only seemed to make it worse.

"I'm sorry you're having to go through this," Leah said. I was surprised to hear her voice, I honestly believed that we would never speak to each other again now that Megan was gone.

"I'm sure this is a lot worse for you than for me," I mumbled. It sounded like a heartless statement but what else was I going to say? I lost the love of my life but Leah, she lost her daughter. I tore my eyes away from Megan's gravestone to look at her mother.

Leah was a lot like Megan in the way that she carried herself. Never one to fear showing emotions, the older woman let tears freely cascade down her cheeks and drip onto the fabric of her black dress. She had lifted the veil now, revealing puffy dark eyes that matched her daughters only in color. They used to sparkle like Megan's but now, they seemed dull. Her skin was blotchy, the same way Megan's would get when she had a cold and kept blowing her nose.

"Love is love, Vince," she said with a shrug. The sentence puzzled me, I couldn't figure out what she meant and she didn't explain before placing a single kiss on top of my head and finally walking away, leaving me and her daughter alone for the last time.

I sat on the ground for a long time, just picking at the blades of grass around me. The wind was still blowing hard, sending the occasional fallen leaf my way, and the sun was still high in the sky when I finally looked at Megan's casket again. It was so hard to believe that she was really gone and that I would never get to see her again. I tried to remember the sound of her voice, of her laugh, but all I could remember was her smile.

"I miss you," I whispered. I looked at the casket with hopeful eyes but logic told me that she wasn't going to respond.

Finally, after a man cleared his throat behind me, I stood up and placed my hand on the casket. I closed my eyes, silently bidding my goodbye and walked away from Megan's grave site. The further I got from her body, the more it sunk in that this was it. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my slacks and dug around for the keys to my motorcycle. In one hand, I could feel Megan's lip balm as it clashed with my wedding ring while the other wrapped tightly around the cool metal of my keys. It took every ounce of force I had in me to start my bike up and even more to finally drive away.

I headed home, passing streets filled with people who were rushing down the business streets, probably trying to find a good restaurant or bar to spend their Sunday night in. Megan and I used to spend many nights out on the streets of New York, looking for the best of the best when it comes to food. We would sometimes go without eating because Megan could never find the perfect restaraunt for the night but I didn't mind. I liked to watch her look, her eyes would squint up almost to the point of being closed and she would purse her lips as she looked inside a restaraunt. Megan was a people watcher and if she saw an unsatisfied person, we'd have to move on to the next place and the next and the next until she found the perfect place. Usually, it was a hot dog stand out on the corner but it was still good and I enjoyed the time I spent watching Megan anyway.

Tears had filled my eyes long before I reached our building. Megan and I had rented out a studio apartment that was more than just a fixer-upper. We'd been working on it for over a year now, painting the walls, hanging up light fixtures, replacing shattered windows, and even putting in carpet. It was an apartment full of memories that I couldn't face just yet so I sat on the stoop that lead to the apartment and sighed.

Mr. Sholtz, the older tenant that lived across the hall from us sat down beside me with a cheerful smile on his face. I nodded, acknowledging his presence and then continued to sulk. He pulled out a box of cigarettes and offered one to me without a word.

I stared at the red box with a strange fixation. Megan had always hated the fact that Mr. Sholtz would smoke. There had been times where I had had to stop her from marching over to his door and making him pick up the countless cigarette buds that were scattered all over the stoop.

When I didn't reach for one, Mr. Sholtz shrugged and pulled one out and then set the box between us. He pulled a lighter from his jacket and lit the cigarette. My jaw clenched and I licked my lips before finally giving in and reaching for the cigarette box. Sorry Megan.

"She was a good girl, your wife," Mr. Sholtz said, blowing out a big puff of smoke and handing me the lighter. He leaned back and chuckled before saying, "she hated my guts though."

I smiled and nodded my head, lighting the cigarette that dangled heavily in between my lips. There had been plenty of times where Megan had muttered all too loudly about how rude Mr. Sholtz was for not caring about his littering habits. I smiled thinking back to the day Megan had imagined what the inside of Mr. Sholtz's apartment must look like.

"I bet the counters are full of dirty dishes and ash trays probably lie around overfilling with disgusting ash," she had said over a cup of coffee. "I bet the windows are filthy because of the smoke."

"I'm sorry about that," I said to him finally. He smiled at me and placed a hand on my back.

"Never apologize for something your wife does," Mr. Sholtz said. "Everything a woman does reminds you over and over again why you love her. My wife Ellie hated my smoking too."

Mr. Sholtz finished his cigarette and flicked it onto the sidewalk before standing up and giving me a final nod before going inside. I stared at the cigarette in my hand, feeling guilty about even taking the two drags I had had. I flicked it away and stood up, I took a deep breath and walked inside, preparing for the memories to jump on me like they had been for the past couple of weeks.