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When a town loses a beloved resident, it can bring family and friends closer together. |
| [Introduction] ~ Russet Hills~ Despite it’s name, Russet Hills only briefly boasts the color of its namesake. Located approximately two hours outside of Denver, it’s a small, close-knit town that is typically covered in glistening snow during its long winters. During its fleeting spring and scorching summer seasons, the town blossoms with bright shades of green that all too quickly fade into the oranges, reds and, yes, browns of fall. With a population of just over 8,000, this jewel of the Centennial State is arguably the most beautiful and welcoming in the autumn. This is when the town is most alive, buzzing with the end of summer festivities, the hectic start of school, and the daily bustle of activity around the town square. This fall will be no different, with one exception. At the heart of Russet Hills stands the town’s lone inn, The Willow. Named after the aging landmark that sprawls across the front lawn, The Willow has been in the care of the Haywood family for generations. It is the town’s pride and joy, offering those who pass through a glimpse into the comfortable embrace of small town life. A native to Russet Hills, Dr. Daniel Haywood works at the local hospital, while his wife Sarah helms the inn. Their three children, Brody, Reese and Amelia, grew up among the cherry wood corridors, homemade diner food and various passerbys. But just as this summer began to fade, Russet Hills said goodbye to one of its most beloved residents. The passing of Sarah Haywood has deeply impacted the town. Daniel is unable to leave his post to run the inn, and Amelia cannot manage it alone. The other Haywood children have returned for the funeral to say goodbye to their mother and face the people of Russet Hills. The Haywood Siblings Brody Haywood, 26 - The eldest of the Haywood siblings, Brody left home as soon as he could, escaping to the sunshine of California where he chased waves and pursued acting while mostly tending bar. Standing just under 6 foot, Brody fit in among the Californians with his sandy, blond locks, fit build and blue eyes. He’s easy-going but sometimes speaks without thinking. He and his younger sister Reese have an often tumultuous and rather competitive relationship, while he has a soft spot for their adopted sister Amelia. He missed his family but wanted to have some adventures on his own. Author: mynt Reese Haywood, 25 - The middle child, Reese is a bit of a perfectionist. She’s intelligent, capable and ambitious. After high school, she was accepted to Stanford but turned it down due to her brother Brody’s plans to move west. Instead, she earned her business degree from Dartmouth. Since then, she’s most recently been serving as a hedge fund manager helping others invest their money (to the dismay of her more liberal-minded brother). Physically, Reese has a slim, 5-foot-6 frame with soft skin and straight, shoulder-length hair. Reese has always wanted to achieve success for herself and make her family proud. Author: Apoorva   The character's field of work can be altered if the author wishes. Amelia Haywood, 23 - The youngest sibling, Amelia was adopted as an infant and does not know her biological parents. Sarah and Daniel Haywood, both blond and tall, had children with similar appearances. Amelia, however, is petite with tan skin and long, dark brown hair. She used to be insecure about looking different, but the people of Russet Hills have always been good to her. Unlike her siblings, after high school, she attended the nearby university with her best friend Marin, so she could be close to home. She helps her parents run the inn. Author: Aiken4LOTR The Melendez Siblings Marin Melendez, 24 - Marin is, as she would say, the coolest big sister ever. She’s strong, smart and sassy. She protects those she cares about and isn’t afraid to speak her mind. She has her mother Ava’s curves and features (big brown eyes and black hair often dyed with pink streaks), but claims to have none of her father’s. She’s a musician and songwriter that travels to find work but never strays too far from home (where she teaches at the local music shop). She picks on her younger brother Matt but loves him dearly. Her mother Ava was close friends with Sarah Haywood. Author: Kat Matthew Melendez, 22 - With his mother’s long hours at the hospital and his sister’s unsteady work, Matt is the rock of the family. He had to grow up fast with his father leaving them at a young age. But despite this, he is exuberant, charming and funny. Lanky and lithe with broad shoulders, Matt is over 6 feet tall. Unlike Marin, he more closely resembles their father with his fairer skin, short brown hair and freckles. Sometimes he hates this, but his mother insists that he is beautiful. Matt is good with his hands and works at the local auto shop. He often visits The Willow to offer a helping hand, which Marin recognizes as an excuse to spend time with Amelia. Author: Professor Q  *Note: Some of my favorite stories include small town life and the relationships of the people that make them thrive (think: Everwood, Gilmore Girls, etc). The town is as much of a character as well, the characters. Also, feel free to create the other residents in the town as well as visitors to The Willow. The main idea is that Brody and Reese are returning, and The Willow is going to have to try to continue without Sarah Haywood. There are familial issues that might surface among the siblings, friendship dynamics that come into play among Marin and the Haywoods, and more romantic possibilities between Amelia and Matthew. Mainly, this is a story about people and the crazy lives people live. Please have fun with it. It can be funny. It can be sweet. It can be sad. But mostly, it should have heart. The story will begin on the morning of the funeral with Brody and Reese returning to Russet Hills. Amidst the mourning and consoling, questions will arise of how The Willow shall continue to run. From there, it can flourish as we see fit. All of our character positions have been filled. We will be starting the story shortly. Please let me know if you need anything.  Addition Order Amelia Haywood ~ Aiken4LOTR Marin Melendez ~ Kat Matthew Melendez ~ Professor Q Brody Haywood ~ mynt Reese Haywood ~ Apoorva |
Slices of early morning light peeked through the blinds, casting odd shadows across the small, dark room. Its contents were minimal and organized, consisting of a shelf lined with books, a single filing cabinet and a desk. From beneath the desk, came the only sounds and motions in the building. Sharp, shuddering breaths escaped from trembling lips as a small figure hid below. With her back pressed against the aged oak and her shoulders hunched forward, Amelia Haywood sat alone. Her legs were curled beside her, her high heels poking out from under the desk. The crisp cotton of her black dress wrinkled from her position, and she could see new lines stretched in her stockings. To her right, a booklet of her mother's notes sat open, sprawled across the floor. Soft rays of sun filtered in, casting light upon the flowing cursive and kind words. This room had been Sarah Haywood's home away from home. In this room, Sarah and her husband Daniel signed the paperwork to take over The Willow. Among other things, Sarah hired her first employees here, booked her first guests, and helped her children finish their homework. When Amelia became old enough to help run The Willow, this became her office too. She had always complained that it was too small for the both of them. Now silent save for her quiet sobs, the room had never felt bigger. With one hand clutching the fabric of her dress, the other sat open on her lap with a string of pearls pooled in the middle. "She wore those at her wedding, you know," a soft, velvety voice spoke, followed by the clicking of heels. Amelia looked up as the figure bent down, their dark chocolate gaze meeting her tear-filled, green eyes. "And I'm sure she'd love for you to wear them at yours, too." Amelia nodded and accepted the other woman's offered hand, slipping the pearls into her palm. "Thanks Mags," Amelia replied shakily, turning around. She brushed her hands against the folds in her dress as the woman fastened the necklace clasp behind her neck. Magdalena Grayson was The Willow's cook and kitchen manager. She ran the diner, planning and cooking its menus for all the guests. But over time, she had become so much more than that. She was a dear friend to the family. A tall and shapely woman, Mags was bright, bold and nurturing. With her short black hair plaited into tight braids and her smooth ebony skin, Mags' unique beauty had always fascinated Amelia since she was a child. "I can feel your mother in this room, you know," Mags said, grasping Amelia's hands before pulling her into a hug. "Her love for people, for making them feel at home. Her love for her family, for you. This is a good room. I can see why you wanted to be here." Stepping back, Amelia nodded in understanding. "But it's not the place to be right now,” she sighed. Mags shook her head. Amelia knew it was almost time. Though they had been away for years, Brody and Reese both booked immediate flights as soon as they heard about the accident. It had happened so quickly and then, she was gone. No rushing to the ER, no pacing in sterile waiting rooms, and no watching as various tubes pushed fluids and medicine into the woman they loved. She passed away at the scene. Neither Amelia nor Daniel were there. They didn’t get to comfort her, hold her or say goodbye. Looking up at the clock, Amelia knew her siblings would have arrived at the airport by now. Her childhood friend Matthew volunteered to pick them up and bring them to the funeral home, which was immensely helpful as neither she nor her father were in any shape to drive. Her best friend Marin, Matthew’s older sister, and their mother Ava were already at Darby Funeral Home with Daniel, setting up the final details. No doubt the townspeople would be arriving there soon. She was such a terrible daughter. Her friends were helping, and she had holed herself up in the office, hiding from the world. "No darling, you deserve some time to yourself," Mags responded, reaching further open the door. "But you don’t have to get through this alone.” Closing the door behind them, the older woman ushered Amelia down the hallway. They passed the main floor guest rooms and stairwell, then the kitchen and dining area. Amelia tried to pace her breathing as each step began to feel heavier than the last. Mags wrapped a steady arm around her as they approached The Willow’s foyer and living area. Amelia stood quietly as she felt the familiar weight of fabric slipped onto her shoulders. Sliding her arms into the coat sleeves, her eyes settled on the thick doorframe outlining the main entrance. Intricate carving made the glossy, cherry wood appear as if it had grown out of roots, various stems folded and looped around each other. At the base, the roots disappeared into the hardwood flooring where the plant motif was later picked up in the various runners placed throughout the inn. But the most important details were hidden in the wooden pattern. On the left hand side of the frame, subtle lines were notched into the roots at various heights, each with a small letter written next to them--a “B,” “R” or “A.” The Willow had been in the Haywood family for generations, and Sarah had wanted to make sure her family--her children--would remain with The Willow for years to come. When Brody and Reese left Russet Hills, she always said a part of them still remained. “They’ll be so glad to see you,” Mags said, stepping up and reaching forward, her finger tracing one of the notches. Mags, now in her 40s, never had children of her own. With Daniel often away working long shifts at the hospital, she would jokingly refer to herself as the children’s nanny. Sarah would chuckle and say she appreciated the support. Looking at the frame, Amelia knew Mags had also helped make some of the marks. Slipping her arm into Mags', the two woman stepped out of The Willow and into the new, brisk autumn air. Outside a towering willow tree hovered over a small pond, its slender branches swaying. Like the people of Russet Hills, it was resilient. Typically, it would hold fast to its bright green hues, only turning golden brown at the cold beckoning of winter before losing its leaves. As they strode down the steps and onto the sidewalk--Darby Funeral was only a couple blocks away--Amelia saw it; the edges of the willow’s leaves were already turning. Blinking back tears and pulling her collar up against the wind, Amelia looked away from the willow and continued forward. Her family was waiting. It was time to say goodbye. |
Marin stepped to the doors of the main hall, fighting to keep her eyes from filling with the tears that never seemed to stop. None of it felt real, not the black dress she was wearing, not the smell of the lilies that lined the dark oak walls, not the sound of the piano playing. It was a bad dream and any moment she'd wake up. She bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering and entered the room in which the service would take place, a pile of programs held tightly under one arm. One at a time she placed them on the chairs, seeing that each was set with purpose and perfection, not just tossed into place. A lovely picture of Sarah graced the cover of the lily white program, her name printed in scrolling script beneath it. Marin couldn't look at it, not fully. She could still hear Sarah's voice, see her same smiling face expectantly waiting for her hug. Marin almost couldn't fathom it, loosing someone so dear to her, to her mother, to Amelia. “Marin, would you like to practice?” The pianist asked as he took his place beside the instrument, jolting her back to reality. “No thanks John.” She answered with a polite smile, finishing the task she hadn't realized she'd stopped. Her violin was already in place, but she didn't have the heart to pick it up just yet. Daniel had asked her to play during the service, something sweet, something hopeful in memory of the woman they all loved. Marin was honored to do it, and yet the closer the moment drew the more and more overwhelming it became. She wished Matt was here. He could always encourage that extra measure of calm in her in a way no one else could. The screeching of Mag's breaks at the front of the building alerted her to Amelia's arrival. She quickly finished her task and moved to the doorway, strengthening her posture and demeanor as she went. They had spent two days together crying, and now Amelia would need her to be strong, to be the encouraging, capable friend she always was. They had gotten each other through everything and they would get each other through this. Marin reached the front as Amelia stepped out of the car. Her friend's green eyes were mournful and distant, her posture tired as if the world itself was too much. It was enough to break Marin's heart. She took a few quick steps against the cold autumn wind and wrapped her arms around Amelia's neck without saying a word. “I don't think I'm ready for this.” Amelia whispered, sinking into her friends embrace. “That's alright, Ames,” Marin answered, squeezing her friend a bit tighter. For the first time in their long friendship she had no idea what to say to make it better. Amelia waited a moment and stepped back, wiping away a tear and taking in a quick and calming breath. “How is dad?” “He's quiet but okay, I think. He and mom are taking care of any last details.” She didn't say anything. It seemed she was not quite willing to pass through the doors just yet. “I got a call from Matt not long ago. He's on his way with Brody and Reese. They shouldn't be long now; if you'd like we can wait here and go in together.” Amelia nodded, tucking her arm under Marin's and turning her back toward the funeral home. Mags returned a moment later with Marin's coat and left the two girls to stand in silence, arm in arm, looking over Russet Hills and waiting. |
| If Matt didn't know any better, he'd say it was colder inside the car than out. It certainly felt that way, even though the windows were up and the AC turned off so the cold couldn't slice into his hands and face. Of course, between the silent woman in the seat beside him and the equally silent man behind, Matt thought he could feel icicles forming from his ears. If he weren't careful, he'd lose them to frostbite. Thank goodness for the small mercies of a small town big enough to have an equally small airport, or else he might have had to spend a lot more time with the Haywood siblings than was perhaps healthy for a warm-blooded mammal. When he'd volunteered to pick up Reese and Brody from the airport, he'd never realized that he had set out on a hero's quest. Honestly, he thought he'd rather be back at the funeral home with the weeping and ponderous silence than here right now, sitting in the middle of whatever it was that was going on here. Well, he sort of knew what was going on here; it was the same stuff that had gone on when they were younger, before each of them had wandered off into the world. Brody and Reese had never gotten along, not for as long as Matt had known them. And when Brody had run away to become an actor, Reese' antipathy had only grown more pronounced. Matt had always stayed out of it, mostly because he sympathized with both of them. He understood Reese's need to be successful and responsible; Hell, he lived that need every damn day. But she could be a huge bitch, and it wasn't as if Brody had abandoned his family. Of the two, it was Brody who kept in touch with Amelia, and that was something Matt would always appreciate. He loved Amelia very much; she was like family to him, and Matt never could stand to see people upset, especially those people he cared about. Finally, he pulled up in front of the Funeral Home, parking somewhere out of the way just in case the room was needed. Matt didn't like to inconvenience anyone; he wanted to make sure he was nothing like his Father, who always did everything he wanted no matter how it affected the people around him. Who'd just left when... Matt shook his head and got out of the car. This wasn't the time for him to obsess over his deadbeat dad. He needed to be there for Amelia now, and for Marin, and Mom. His sister would probably be freaking out, and she would need to find equilibrium if she was going to play without her hand trembling too much on the bow. Problem was, Marin would never allow herself to show her distress in front of Ames; she would feel the need to be strong for the sake of her friend. Once Matt was there, she would feel free to give way and cry. But only when he got inside. Reese and Brody followed him, still silent, though the reason for that silence had shifted. Instead of awkward, now it just felt sorrowful. And Matt remembered that Sarah was their Mother, too. Just like Amelia and Daniel, they had lost someone they loved; someone they had never been able to say goodbye to. Maybe the silence had always been sorrow. But no...there had definitely been a chill in his car on the way here. Getting out had felt practically like stepping back into summer. "Matt!" Marin called, the first one to see the trio as they approached the funeral home. She disentangled herself from Amelia and hurled herself into his arms. He could feel his sister struggling not to sob. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, willing her calm. "Oh, Matt..." "I know, sis." Matt was aware that the siblings were having a quiet reunion beside him. He wanted to go to Amelia, to make sure she was going all right, but this wasn't the time. This was a time for blood, and Matt had his own to care for pressed against him. "I loved Sarah, too." Growing up, Sarah Haywood had been Matt's second mother, and the Willow a second home. A whole home, with a loving family who cared for him as if he were part of it. Something he'd needed so much after his father had abandoned them. He'd needed that warmth to remind him that the world was still a loving place; he'd needed a place where he could be taken care of instead of having to take care of others. Losing Sarah was...It felt like a bear trap had snapped shut inside his chest. She'd been so warm and so kind, and Matt felt like one of the pillars holding him up was gone. He felt like the world was darker, and less secure. Matt knew that's what Marin felt. He knew that was what everyone felt. He would just have to be stronger for all of them. |
He got the call while he was at work. Standing in the alley behind the club, like he always does, Brody was having his second cigarette break. Despite the stench from the dumpsters and the refuse cluttered along the building sides, he found the alley way serene. There was the faint pulsing of music from the club and occasionally the chatter of people passing by, but otherwise he was alone with his thoughts and cigarette. He was leaning against the wall, sucking nicotine into his lungs when Eric poked his head out the door. “Paolo on the phone for you,” he said with the jerk of his head toward the bar. He remembers how weird it was, Paolo never called him at work. Brody patted his back pocket then, in search of his cell phone, but he must’ve forgotten it at home. Why else would his boyfriend call the club instead? All he had was the crumpled pack of cigs and the few bills he had for a candy bar and a pop. So he ground out the butt of his cigarette under his boot and headed inside. Eric, a funny little brunette that reminded Brody of the leprechaun from those cereal commercials, held the door for him. “And boss wants me to remind you that you gotta be fifty feet away from the door with those things or he’s mailing the fines to your house.” Brody grinned and rubbed his hand over the back of his head. “Right, sorry.” Everything else is kind of a blur. He answered the phone, it was off the hook, and that Paolo was very calm on the other end. Brody doesn’t remember his exact words, just that he was coming to pick Brody up and he needed to call his sister. He thinks he tried to argue that his shift didn’t end for another four hours, but somehow he lost and he was in his boss’s office saying that he had to go, that Eric could cover his shift. Eric was getting better at making the drinks and it was only for the night. Yes, he would absolutely tell the bar back that he was going to play tender tonight, and thank you for understanding. Paolo’s Crown Vic was out front waiting for him. He doesn’t recall getting in, just that he was in it. Paolo was handing him his cell phone, telling him that Mia called shortly after he went to work. She had something to tell him and whatever he needed, Paolo would be there. It was odd at the time, but now Brody knows that Paolo knew. Paolo knew and didn’t think it was his place to tell. He was really concerned then and he rang up his baby sister before they made it back to the apartment. She was already crying when she answered. “Brody,” she managed between choked sobs. “It’s mom.” The world fell out from beneath him, he remembers that. Amelia kept talking, but he didn’t know what she was saying. Maybe he dropped the phone. There had been an accident, he remembers hearing that. There had been an accident and now their mom was gone. Everything was all wrong. Russet Hills was supposed to be safe, unchanged. Accidents weren’t supposed to happen there. Everyone was meant to be happy and live forever. It was out in the world where people were swallowed up by the darkness. It was all wrong. He doesn’t remember when they arrived at the apartment or climbing the two flights of stairs to theirs. Brody does remember taking a shower, or at least being in it. The hot water thrummed against his scarred and tattooed skin, washing away his tears. The apartment was his sanctuary. It was the only place in the whole world where he could be weak, he could fall apart because his mother was gone. Once he boarded that plane he had to be strong, he had to be tough or else the world would eat him alive. Not for the first time his mind yearned to return to that dark place, where he could drown his pain in a golden haze and lose himself. The familiar itch was settling in his veins again. And if Paolo hadn’t been there, if he knew he wasn’t expected to be at the funeral in a couple of days- if he wasn’t seeing Mia, Brody doesn’t know that he would have been strong enough to say no. “Do you need me there?” Paolo asked, watching Brody pack the next morning. The answer was yes. Of course. Paolo was the only solid thing he had left to cling to right now. But how was he supposed to deal with his mother’s funeral, being strong for Mia, and coming out to his family? To Russet Hills? He just shook his head because he didn’t trust himself not to cry again. He couldn’t do both. Brody stood there shaking his head, holding someone else’s tie and staring into his suit case. It was filled with all his stupid band t-shirts and acid washed jeans, nothing appropriate to wear to a funeral. Nothing appropriate to honor the woman that had given him life, the woman who had raised him and helped him with his homework, and kissed all his scrapes and bruises. And then he was yanking things out and throwing them across the room. “Hey, hey.” Paolo grabbed him, pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay, you’ve got some time.” “I don’t have anything,” was all he could say. “I don’t have any time.” Paolo just held him. His brown eyed savior. The man that saved Brody from the demons lurking in the shadows, saved him from himself. The young Italian waiter made all the hell he’d clawed his way through worth it. He’d never had the opportunity to introduce Paolo to his mother and now he never would. He likes to think that she would have loved him, and he will always hate himself for not giving her the chance to. Brody doesn’t remember how long it took, but eventually he managed to pull himself together and started picking his things up. Paolo helped, just as he always helps pick up the pieces, telling him in that soft way he does that they could always find a suit for the funeral before the plane took off. They did. A friend’s. Brody changed into in the airport bathroom after the plane landed in Russet Hills. He didn’t want to wear the thing for the whole flight. Black. He dyed his hair black a few months ago, his blonde roots are starting to show and he wishes he would have done something about it before he left. What will his family think of him now? His black hair and eyebrow piercing, the tattoos climbing along his arms to hide the tiny scars in the crook of his elbow. Maybe he should wear a hat. A fedora might go with the shiny shoes and the red tie. If only he had one. He wants a cigarette. Or something stronger. His fingers find the little cool medallion in his jacket pocket and he rubs his thumb over the edges. His promise to be strong, to be okay now. Brody takes a deep breath and heads to the lobby where Matthew Melendez, and Brody’s other sister, Reese, are waiting. The east coast hasn’t changed her haughty expression any. He can almost feel her judging him as he approaches. The car ride to the funeral home is quiet. Reese claims the front seat, and maybe on any other occasion Brody would have argued, but the back seat suits him just fine. It’s a little cramped, and his sister being shorted probably would have fit better. He doesn’t mind. The pack of cigarettes against his breast are tempting but he won’t pollute someone else’s car, although he’s sure the look on Reese’s face would be priceless. He promises himself that he will sneak off and light up before the day is out. Once or twice he can see Matthew glancing at him in the rearview mirror, his jaw twitching like he wants to say something. They aren’t that far apart in age, but Brody doesn’t remember much about him. Someone that lived in town, maybe hung out with Ames. Or course, he’d be a liar if he said his memory was what it used to be before. Brody does feel bad for him, being saddled with picking up the two wayward Haywoods. Brody can’t remember the last thing that he and Reese said to each other, but he knows it was a fight. Maybe about him leaving to California. About them both supposed to be leaving for California. Whatever was said, it ended with them barely sharing more than a sentence with each other since then. He hasn’t been back to Russet Hills since he left for Los Angeles, only opening his home their baby sister on the holidays and whenever Ames wanted to come spend time at the beach. Brody thinks it’s probably messed up but he’s happy for the distraction, anything to keep him from falling apart again. It’s his job to pick up the pieces now. He has to put on the brace face for Amelia and their father. So he lets himself feel the nervousness of seeing his family and friends again for the first time in eight years, and the tension mounting between him and Reese. He lets those things distract him from the pain and the grief over the reason that they’re all together again. The funeral home already has a growing crowd by the time they pull up. Ames and Marin are waiting out front. He can’t think of anything to say to his little sister, so instead he pulls her tightly to him. He strokes her hair and lets her cry. He tells her it will be okay even though he doesn’t believe it. But big brothers are allowed to lie, right? |
| The familiar crisp air that filled Reese's lungs did nothing to soothe her mind. This was her home, the place she spent her childhood. If anything she should feel nostalgic, or maybe a little sentimental. Standing in her ironed black dress and heels and carrying a small suitcase, the only thing she could feel was how out of place she really was now that her mother wasn't here to tell her otherwise. Her siblings stood a little ways off, embracing and sharing in the sorrow they so easily expressed. She knew it was stupid, but Reese couldn't help the feeling of jealousy that settled low in her chest. If only she could share with the world how she had really felt when she got the news. It had been early in the morning when she found out. The night before, yet another one of her perfect little trust fund boyfriends had left her after actually getting to know her. It wasn't as though she cared all that much, but it sucked not being able to live up to her parents' expectations completely. When she had hung up the phone without saying a word, Reese had all but gone into shock. It was as if her world had just become insignificant. Everything she did with her life had been for her mother, the person she loved more than anyone else in the world, and now she was gone. Of course, Reese eventually pulled herself together and went to catch her flight at the airport. Her newest responsibility would be to stay strong for the others, take care of business with the funeral as she was always expected to do in any situation. Reese glanced at Brody and Amelia. They were so close, and Reese wondered what that was like. Of course, she never thought she'd be that way with Brody. All of their conversations tended to be arguments. "I'll take our things inside," she mumbled, not expecting anyone to hear. Taking her own suitcase along with Brody's and entered the funeral home, setting their stuff down by the entrance. Smoothing down her dress, Reese pulled out the folder they had sent her from her suitcase and went to a small table in a corner. Someone would need to take care of all the release forms before the funeral, and she sure as hell knew it wasn't going to be one of her siblings. The idea was depressing, signing forms of consent to allow her mother's body to be prepared and released to the funeral home temporarily. How do you 'temporarily' lend someone a body? Reese tried not to think of the fact that this was her mother. "Mom..." She whispered. "I really wish you were here right now. I think you were wrong; they won't understand." |
Sinking into the cushion, Amelia sat alone as she waited. Her hands lay flat on her coat, the wool still wet from rain. After the service at Darby Funeral, they had moved to the Russet Hills Cemetery. The ceremony was short--one last moment to say goodbye. It went by so fast, it didn’t seem real. Amelia had stood between her siblings, leaning against her brother’s strong shoulder and entwining her fingers with her sister’s while Pastor Song’s kind words washed over them. Brody had stood shoulder-to-shoulder with their father. Clouds overhead had started to darken and when Pastor Song finished her sermon, the sky cried with them. Mags, Marin and Ava helped escort the townspeople and Sarah’s out-of-state family back to the inn for shelter and sustenance. Amelia had started to join them, only for a familiar face to whisk her away. The armchair she now sat in was nestled between two dark, polished end tables adorned with various glittering treasures. Among their contents were a few cobalt blue vases and bowls, a dome-shaped lamp with dangling crystals, and a couple velvet-lined trinket boxes. The rest of the room was also cluttered with various pieces of old furniture covered in knick knacks and a thin layer of dust. Mr. Felix Denton, the 68-year-old store owner, insisted the dust was there on purpose. He said it enhanced the distinctive old but pleasant ambiance of any antique shop. Old and pleasant was also a good way to describe Mr. Denton. “Ah, here we go,” he shouted, gravelly voice echoing from the back room. Amelia stood and navigated through the narrow aisles between the towering stacks of valuables. She paused only when her trek was interrupted by Dawson--Mr. Denton’s beagle that miraculously zipped through the store without causing a ruckus. She entered the open doorway, spotting the sweater-clad man hunched over a box on his desk. He glanced up, index finger pushing at the bridge of his glasses. The dark frames and thick glass did little to hide the man’s gentle blue eyes. Scratching at the surviving strands of his salt and pepper hair, Felix motioned for the youngest Haywood sibling to join him. “This is it. These must have been some old things she didn’t want anymore. Maybe they were from the inn. I’m not sure.” Amelia nodded, coming to stand next to him. Slipping her hand inside, she flipped through a few items--what seemed to be some picture frames and books. Picking up a hardcover, she ran her fingers across the weak binding and soft, feathered pages. Little Woman had been one of her mother’s favorite books. This was probably an extra copy that she had worn out. Sarah loved it so much she named her youngest “Amelia Elizabeth Haywood” after two of her favorite characters--much to her husband’s dismay. Daniel thought it was trivial to name children after fictional characters. After the adoption was finalized, he became more upset when he finally read the book and hated the youngest March sister. From then forward, he insisted no one refer to Amelia as “Amy.” Daniel was grateful his older children had been more carefully named--they named Brody and Reese after people they knew. Reese was named for Daniel’s great grandfather Victor Reese Haywood, the first in their line of sons to become a doctor. Brody was named after Michelle Brody, the college friend that had introduced Sarah and Daniel. The more Amelia thought of her family, the more she realized she needed to be with them. “Thanks Mr. Denton, but I should head back,” she said, book still open in her hands. “Yes, of course. I just wanted to steal you away for a moment before you went back to the inn,” Felix answered, voice wavering, as he patted her hand. “I thought you’d want to see this. You know when she dropped this off, it was the last time I saw her. Just a couple days before...” He stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Amelia blinked back some tears. Mr. Denton had known her mother longer than she had. He met Sarah as a newlywed, saw her take over The Willow, and watched as she raised her children. It meant a lot to Amelia that the people around her had truly known and cared about her mother. A wet nose nudged against her calf. Amelia looked down to see Dawson’s big brown eyes staring at her, tongue hanging and tail wagging. Despite it all, she chuckled and kneeled down to pet him. “Thanks again. I’ll come back for the rest later,” she said as she stood and hugged Mr. Denton before heading to the front of the store. Stepping outside, she noticed the rain had stopped and the sun was beginning to peek out over the clouds. The park stood in the center of the town square, outlined by the road and then the sidewalk lining all the shopfronts. The Willow was across the square taking up an entire end with its massive, aging tree sprawled across the front lawn. “Unique Antiques” was neighbored by the bakery and coffee shop to the left, and his son Flynn’s music and bookshop on the right. Like his father, Flynn Denton was a dog person, but he had his Great Dane Dinah entertaining customers. Older brother Franco Denton, owner of the Franco’s Market down the street, was the family traitor. His tabby cat Bomber lurked outside at all times. Usually, the town was filled with people, noises and movement. Today, the shops were all closed. Their owners and customers were at the inn, remembering someone who had meant so much to their town. “I think you went to the wrong shop.” Amelia turned to see Matthew, still in his full suit, leaning against the brick storefront of “Novels & Notes.” He nodded at the book in his friend’s hand, his lips curving into a small smile. “Matty, what are you doing here?” She asked more for something to say rather than out of curiosity. She was just happy he was here. Matthew had been helping her family so much lately, but she hadn’t really had a chance to see him since the news of her mother’s accident. “I saw old Mr. Denton kidnap you,” he joked with a chuckle, the lines of his black suit pulling taut across his broad shoulders. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” The suit was simple with a white shirt underneath and a black tie. It was a tad short and a bit bulky, aside from where it fit his shoulders. Amelia reckoned it was his suit from high school. He had grown so much since then. Though she was a year older than him, Matthew had always seemed like more of an adult. Then again, stepping up to take care of your family would do that. As the youngest sibling, Amelia had been nurtured and cared for by so many. Matthew, on the other hand, had even more responsibility placed upon his shoulders. And yet, he was as charming and caring as always. She never understood how he did it. “Ames, are you okay?” Matthew asked, stepping forward and taking her hand in his. Looking up at him, Amelia saw the faint smattering of freckles across his cheeks and slightly upturned nose. His brown hair was a bit disheveled from the day’s earlier rain and winds. Amelia finally nodded, squeezing her friend’s hand before he pulled her into his arms. “Thanks Matty,” she spoke as his warmth seeped into her. Pulling away, Matthew wiped some tears from her face, stifling back a few of his own. “We should join the others,” she continued, turning back to face the inn. “Dad, Brody, Reese--I should see how they’re doing.” “Okay, Ames, let’s go,” Matthew responded, wrapping an arm around her. They stepped down from the sidewalk to cross the road and the town square. |
| Marin lifted the last pan of cookies out of the oven and set it on the stove top, taking a moment to hover and take in the sweet smell of peanut butter. “Don't get any ideas, miss.” Mags scolded playfully, raising knowing eyebrows and placing an over-sized spatula in the young woman's hand. There were few things in this world that brought Marin the comfort found in one of Mag's peanut butter cookies. In fact, they were a bit famous around Russett hills, and it would be rare for a local not to make a special trip to the inn just to secure one fresh out of the oven. “I'm being good.” Marin answered, lifting her oven-mitted hands in surrender before beginning to move the cookies onto the cooling rack. “Mmmm Hmmm.” Mags answered, not convinced but wearing a smile all the same. She had prepared everything in advance, and despite not needing the help she had put Marin to work. A fact the latter had very much appreciated. When the few chores Mags could invent for her ran out she was dismissed, sent out to face the group and refill the refreshment table. She searched the room for a moment, giving hugs and making awkward conversation with people she had known her whole life. It was funny how formality always made everyone a bit stiff. Amelia and Matty weren't in yet, and in truth she was a bit thankful for it. Matty would be good company for Amelia, even if the idea of the two of them being more then friends was still the weirdest thing Marin could think of. Not the worst thing, but definitely the weirdest. Reese stood beside her father, her usual proper graceful air looking a bit feigned. She couldn't blame her. Brody was no where to be seen and that worried Marin a bit, if only because Amelia wasn't here to be worried instead. She lifted an extra cookie off the plate and began up the stairs to what had once been Sarah's office, finding the eldest Haywood peering out the main window. “Hey Brody.” Marin said softly, leaning against the dark wooden door frame. He glanced over his shoulder, allowing the slightest hint of a friendly smile before turning his gaze back outside. “Hi Marin. It's nice to see you.” He replied. She approached and stood beside him, handing him the cookie and beginning to nibble at her own. “Already missing that California sunshine?” She asked. It was a stupid question, but it popped out all the same. She couldn't help it. “Among other things.” He answered, his eyes finding Matt and Amelia walking arm in arm, still a few blocks away. “How has she been?” “As well as can be expected.” Marin answered honestly, “Better now that you're here, I'm sure. I hope you can stay for a bit, it does the whole town good to have the Haywood kids back home.” She said with a slight smile, doing her best to make him feel welcome without placing any pressure. In truth she hoped he would stay too. He might not have been blood, but he was still family, even if they hadn't talked much in recent years. “We'll see.” He answered with a polite smile, biting off a corner of the cookie. “Well if that doesn't convince you, nothing will.” Marin answered playfully, nudging him with her elbow. She turned to leave, pausing a moment at the door, "It's good to have you home, Brody." She smiled over her shoulder, once again heading down the stairs and leaving him to his thoughts. |
| It was almost two hours before anyone came to find him. "Matt, what are you doing down here all by yourself?" Marin stood on the stairs, her arms hugged tight against her chest as if they could protect her from the dust motes floating through the air like asthma kamikazes. "Mags made cookies and Amelia is looking for you." Matt smiled, just one corner pulling upward as he looked up from his work. He'd come down here to escape from the oppressive sadness and awkward reunions of the upper floors. Family was a complicated thing, and Matt always felt sort of awkward whenever it wasn't his family causing the complications. He wanted to be there to comfort his friends, of course, but he certainly didn't want to impose at all, and sometimes it was hard to know when well-meaning became cloying. When did a hug begin to strangle and an expression of grief become poison in one's ear? It was hard to know. He'd always preferred action. Even as a kid, he'd hid his emotions in work. When his parents were having problems--and when weren't his parents having problems back before Dad took off--Matt had always sort of disappeared, turning first to his toys, then his homework, and finally to his projects in the garage, rather than deal with the heaviness hanging in the air. Marin had dealt with the brunt of that; she'd been the one to stand between Ma and the deadbeat, and to slam the door behind him when he took off to the bars at night. She always had something to say, and never shied away from saying it. Matt had always been the one to clean up after the storm. He left the emotions to Marin; she was always the sensitive one. For his part, Matt wanted something to do; he wanted something to fix, to repair, to demonstrably wipe the stain of sadness or anger from their tiny house. It was why he was so good with his hands. When it came to making someone feel better, he was tongue-tied; he preferred to take care of things, to smooth away problems and wipe clean worries. That was why he was in the basement, elbow deep in the furnace, which had been giving Ames problems for weeks now. She couldn't afford to have it fixed, so Matt had learned how to do it on his own. He'd been taking classes down at the learning annex; one of the guys from the shop was teaching it and let Matt sit in for free. Since Dad left, money had been really tight, so Matt had learned to fix up and maintain the house on his own. He didn't have a license, or anything, but he'd made some money doing projects here and there for neighbors looking to help the kid out. Everyone knew he'd put his own dreams on hold to help out the family, and no one could ever resist his exuberance. It was a good way to save money. He planned on going to school one day. A lot of schools did on-line learning these days, even the good ones, and he certainly had the grades to attend a good school. He'd been a much better student than Marin, at least in the maths and sciences. In high school, he'd excelled in shop classes, and he thought it would be great to open his own business one day. Be a professional contractor, maybe. He'd always been good with his hands. "I'm working on the furnace," he replied after wiping his hands on a towel. "I, uh...I wanted to get it done for Ames so she had one less thing to worry about. I was thinking of working on the wiring, too. And I know there's been some trouble with the plumbing in some parts of the house..." Marin's face softened into a smile. "I understand." She unfolded her arms and leaned against the exposed brick of the wall. "I remember that the house was never cleaner or in better repair than after Mom and Dad had one of their blow-outs. But why don't you put down your tools for now and come upstairs? I think Amelia would prefer it if you were up there with her right now, and I know Mom and I would." Matt gestured toward his tools. "I'll have to, uh, clean up..." "Leave it, Matt. No one's going to come down here. C'mon...if you don't hurry, Mags won't save you a cookie." A smile dawned over Matt's face, lighting his hazel eyes with their usual exuberance. "Mags would never give away my cookie. She's been saving the last cookie for me since I was four years old." "That's 'cause you're such a good kid, Matty. C'mon sweetheart. No one is expecting you to do this. You don't have to fix every problem they have for them to know how much you care. Just being there is enough." Marin reached out and took Matt's hands. "Plus, you're filthy. You'll need to get cleaned up before dinner or else I know Mags won't give you that cookie. She's had the same rule for twenty years and I doubt anything's going to change it now." |
| The atmosphere inside the bar is heavy, weighed down with the day’s somber mood. The rain outside had stopped and Brody suspects it is a million times less dreary outside in the weather than inside the little corner bar. But he doesn’t leave his spot at the counter. He knows he should be back at the inn, he should be a shoulder to lean on and cry on. He is supposed to be the oldest, the big brother. Right now he feels like a child. Brody nurses his Irish coffee, imagining the bitter mixture of liquor and scorched coffee filling in all the cracks in his delicate armor. It was stupid and selfish to leave the inn, but right now he’s okay with stupid and selfish. He’s been that for what seems his entire life. There are memories of a boy that thought of others and tried to do the right thing but they feel far away, like a dream. The alcohol probably doesn’t help. Neither did the four years of China white. Some days his hands still shake, and he aches for something he knows will kill him. Several businesses were closed today, to honor a woman that had literally given her life to the community. But some places, like the little bar Brody sat in, didn’t dare close their doors. All people grieved differently. Some needed the tears and comforts, others preferred to weep into their beer. A part of him knew this wasn’t him grieving, this was him avoiding the inevitable awkward family time. He misses Paolo. Their late night picnics on the living room floor, scavenging beat up furniture from curbs, and listening to the young Italian sing in the shower. Everything about their little apartment, down to the radiator with the mind of its own and the yowling cats that sit on the fire escape at 2am. Brody doesn’t want to be sitting here in Russet Hills, avoiding the people sharing the loss of his mother. He wants to be somewhere it doesn’t quite feel so lonely. “Haywood. I barely recognized you, man!” Someone thumped him heartily on the shoulder, almost making him spill the remnants of his drink. There’s a snarl on his lips and acidic words on the tip of his tongue as he spins around to face the oaf interrupting his pity drink, but it falls flat in the face of the man behind him. “Joyner?” Brody blinks at the heavyset man, once the star of their varsity basketball team. The moustache and accompanying beard are also new, but the bright green eyes and crooked smile are hard to mistake. Brody can’t remember the last time he saw Joyner, probably high school graduation. “I’d ask where the rest of the team is, but it looks like you ate them.” Joyner laughs and sits down on a stool beside him. “If I woulda known you were gonna come crawling in like a sick emo band reject, I woulda saved you some. Shit, Haywood, a strong wind might take you out.” They share another laugh, no doubt helped along by the alcohol in their glasses. “How was Hollywood?” “We call it Los Angeles, now,” Brody says. “And it’s… okay.” Joyner rolls his eyes and nudges him with his elbow. “You run away for eight years and all you come back with was okay? Tell me about all the hot chicks and the bikinis at the beach. Did you meet any celebrities?” “I went to some tattoo parlor one of those guys from some band owns.” He shrugs. “But that’s they closest I ever got. As far as I know they don’t usually wander around the streets waiting for people to harass them.” “Knew those commercials were lying.” Joyner snorts and takes a gulp from his beer. “All that ‘come visit California and meet Betty White’ stuff.” “You always did have a thing for older women.” Joyner huffs but doesn’t say anything. The silence settling between them is unwelcome and Brody has a feeling he knows what’s going to come next. Condolences for the loss of his mother, questions that he doesn’t want to answer. So instead he takes a sip of his coffee, letting the curious mixture of caffeine, cream, and liquor steady his nerves. “How’s Sam doing?” he asks. “Ah, yeah you didn’t hear, man.” Another long pull from his beer bottle, and Joyner is gesturing to the bar tender for another. “She left. Took the kids and went to stay with her mom out in West Virginia.” Brody looks down at his mug, suddenly feeling the urge to get a refill. These are the kind of things that happen in eight years. “I’m sorry, man.” “Nah, no big deal. I still get the kids on holidays and during the summer.” Joyner takes a big gulp of his fresh drink. “We started fighting a lot at the end. She wasn’t happy being married to a plumber and I wasn’t happy being married to her.” He laughs but it’s a weak, half-hearted thing. Brody tries to imagine his high school friends becoming bitter enemies, locked in a loveless marriage. He can remember them skipping classes to go make out in a janitor’s closet, or to go off in his pick-up truck. And how he would cover for them because his honest smile and dimples could get away with murder. Brody doubts it would work like that anymore. “Anyway, don’t you have somewhere to be, Haywood?” Yes, he does. Or somewhere he should be at least. Brody doesn’t think he has had quite enough to drink to face his family again but he shouldn’t be spending his mother’s funeral at a bar, hiding. He pulls a couple of crumpled bills out of his pocket and drops them on the bar top. “We should hand out while I’m in town,” he says as he slides off his stool. “Sure man, that’d be cool.” The smile Joyner gives is tired but genuine. “And Haywood? I’m sorry about your mom.” Brody nods his thanks because he doesn’t know what he can say, what he’s supposed to say, and he hurries out into the rain. |
"...don't you think?" Reese snapped out of her daze, cutting her stare from the foyer to her father who stood solemnly beside her. He was nervous. Of course, it wasn't as clear to all people, but Reese knew how he dealt with pain. Instead of facing it head on, he'd simply occupy himself with the minor details. "Um..." Reese looked at him apologetically, eliciting a sigh. "I guess I'm just a little shaken up still." Dr. Haywood chuckled nervously, though the sadness in his eyes spoke louder than any words Reese could have spoken. She had never felt as comfortable around her father as she had her mother, though that was by all means her own doing. Reese couldn't help the feeling that even now, as successful as she was, she had disappointed him. Of course, Dr. Haywood had always been the one to talk logic and sense into her when she needed it during her younger days, but her mother had been the one to offer her the silent comfort that she would have given the world for right about now. "I miss her too, dad," Reese replied, knowing that behind his words, she was all he could think of as well. Her father simply cleared his throat and nodded. Standing beside him, she overlooked the area, appearing to stay rooted in her responsibilities even as her mind drifted further and further away. As if he had waited for that perfect moment, Brody walked in looking slightly off-balance. Reese could easily guess where he had been. One of her most vivid childhood memories came back to her, as it often did. She had been eight at the time, and had just gotten back from school. School had never been her favorite, all those kids making fun of her glasses and pointing out her weight. Her mother sat with her after every one of those days, but this time she had more to say. Sarah had insisted that, if no one else did, her siblings were the ones who would understand her the most. Reese shook her head, scoffing to herself. This was yet another example of how wrong she had apparently been. Brody was an amazing brother to Amelia, but Reese could never get herself to see past the fact that he had left home in a hurry with no concern about her. Logically, that wasn't the truth. Brody had seen an opportunity and taken it. However, the way Reese saw it, he was doing the same now. He had gone and gotten drunk, taken the edge off for himself, instead of staying and facing the tragedy with the rest of them. Reese muttered an apology to her father and left to go clean up. "Hey, Reese." Turning to face the owner of the voice, she saw Marin and Matthew coming upstairs. "Oh... Hi. I was just going to go..." Reese looked over her shoulder, not knowing how to get out of another awkward conversation. Marin smiled. "Mags baked her peanut butter cookies, if you would like one." "Um..." Reese took a deep breath, her business-like manner back as if it were armor. "I think I'll pass, but tell her I said thank you." It had been a while since she had turned down one of Mags's delicacies. Reese turned and walked briskly away. |
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