Seven Days at Maplewood Lane

Author's note: This story involves age gap while exploring themes of grief and loss.

I hope you enjoy.

***

It was too nice a day for a funeral.

The sun hung heavy in the clear blue sky, bright and fierce. A soft, steady breeze carried the pleasant scent of late spring, and the tune of cheerful songbirds.

Elijah brushed his silver-streaked brown curls out of his eyes and shifted in his seat, feeling trapped within the black button-down jacket and dress pants he had been wearing all day. They weighed heavy on him, leaving a thin sheen of sweat that clung sticky on his skin underneath.

The officiant had been speaking for some time, but Elijah had heard none of it. His mind was elsewhere, in the past, playing back moments of a life that no longer existed. His eyes held on the two wooden caskets in front of him, polished to a quiet shine and surrounded by a patchwork of happy moments he had helped frame and arrange. His eyes settled on one, of a man and woman smiling, youthful and happy in front of a beach somewhere, a young girl between them. It felt as though they were looking directly at him.

Maybe heaven is a beach,Elijah thought.

It was a silly notion, he knew. Or at least he thought he knew. Truth be told, he didn't know what to believe at times like this. He looked around, to the ones left behind to grieve in black, and wondered how many of them truly believed they'd see the dead again. He envied the ones who did. But there, surrounded by an ocean of chiseled stone, all he felt was emptiness, and a longing to see his old friends again.

You need to relax.

Mike's words echoed in the hallways of his mind. He had always told Elijah this, all throughout their long friendship. It had been his mantra, his life's philosophy, one he never outright stated but attempted to impart on him countless times. Where Elijah had been anxious, quiet, and high strung, Mike was cool, confident, and assertive. It was the sort of mindset that handed him many opportunities in life, and Elijah had watched on the sidelines as he collected, envious, but never jealous. Well, not never. Just once.

The past rushed to greet Elijah again. He was back to high school, a sophomore eating lunch, and when he had expected Mike to join him, alone, as he always did, he instead arrived with a girl at his side.

"Hey, man," Mike said, dropping into the seat beside him. The girl took the spot opposite his other side. "Lindsay, this is Eli. Eli, Lindsay."

"Hello." She waved at him weakly like a mouse, and looked as small as one. Still, she was pretty; even her shyness and drab sense of fashion couldn't hide it. Her wavy long brown hair was a pleasant dark shade that matched her eyes, and she was thin but full-figured in a way that Elijah wasn't surprised had caught Mike's eye. She certainly caught his.

"Hey," he said meekly back.

"So you finish Resident Evil 4 yet?" Mike asked, as if he hadn't just brought an invader into their territory. He held up the square shaped slice of cafeteria pizza and inspected it before taking a bite.

"No," replied Elijah, doing his best to hide his fear.He's going to leave me, it shouted.She's going to take him away from me and leave me all alone."I just got to the island. It's tough."

"Don't spoil it!" Lindsay shouted at him, her voice somehow still soft. "I haven't gotten that far yet. I'm still in the castle."

Elijah blinked, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. He turned to Mike, who answered him with a look that said,See? I knew you'd like her.

And so two became three that day, and remained so throughout the rest of high school, and beyond. Life brought the three of them together, made them a trio, inseparable, until a pair of cars and one fatal mistake broke them apart. Leaving just him. Just as he had feared all those years ago.

Elijah's dark green eyes flicked once more across the collage of photos, his attention now on Lindsay. In another time she might have been his, and he would have loved her in the way Mike had. But that was never meant to be. He had long made peace with that. Mike was good for her, brought the best out of her. Elijah had seen it himself, watched Lindsay blossom from that shy girl he met all those years ago into a strong-willed woman who knew what she wanted and enjoyed life.

But not any longer. Now she had no life. Now she was gone. They both were.

"And now, the daughter of the beloved deceased with like to say a word."

Elijah could already feel tears tingling behind his eyes as the young woman stepped up to take the officiant's place in front of them. She'd been crying of course; her nose was dripping, eyes red and puffy and outlined by thick smudges of mascara that matched her black mourning dress. Her hair, the same shade as her mother's, was cut pixie short, just enough to bare her neck and ears while still draping loosely across her forehead. The wind gently swept it side to side over her brow.

The woman stopped a moment, looking out over the crowd with deep heavy breaths. Preparing to say goodbye in front of all to see.

"You can do this," Elijah whispered to himself. Her eyes met his, just a moment, as if she'd heard him, before shifting back down to the wrinkled paper in her hand.

"I was told that I should speak from the heart," she began. "To be honest, to myself, and to all of you, no matter how terrifying it feels. So here it goes..."

The young woman took a few more deep breaths. "The truth is that I don't want to be here today, speaking to all of you. I hate this. I hate this moment. I hate my life right now. I hate all of you. Not...truly, but I hate that you're here, and my parents are not."

Her words, raw and dark and deep, caused a mild stirring in the audience.

"I'm sorry if you all expect me to have something poetic or meaningful to say about them. You know I have a thousand happy times to choose from that I could share with you. Memories that would liven your spirits. And you know this because another honest truth is that my mom and dad were good people. Simple andextremelyflawed, butgood.It's so hard to say that about most and truly mean it, but they were the rare case where it is true."

She stopped again and pressed her skinny white fingers against her quivering pink lips. The tears came steady now, landing on her paper speech with a softtap tap.

"They were good, truly good." She forced it out through garbled sorrow, nearly unintelligible. "And now that goodness has been taken away from me...and the world feels darker..."

The girl broke. Some in the audience merely watched, while others mourned openly with her. The officiant sat up to steady her with a heavy hand on her back.

When finally she'd gathered herself, she didn't have much left to say. The tears had spoken plenty for her.

"I couldn't have asked for a better mom and dad. I love them so much it hurts." She crumpled up the paper, stepped down from the podium, and inserted herself between the two caskets, placing one hand over each. "Goodbye." She whispered it, so low the wind carried it away.

Goodbye.

Elijah closed his eyes and looked up, letting the unrelenting rays of the sun dry his face.

***

"It was bad, wasn't it?" Teagan took another sip from her over sweetened latte, her right leg tapping with a nervous energy so strong it made the café table between them vibrate. "I can tell, people didn't like it. Oh god, I ruined it didn't I?

Elijah scratched his salt and pepper beard as he searched for the right words. "It was...unconventional, and that's okay. You spoke the truth Teags. That's all that matters. They'll think what they think. Your grief is as valid as anyone else's. More valid, actually."

She nodded, her foot slowing down. "Iknowthat. It's just--"

"That's enough." The words tumbled out of him with a forcefulness that surprised him. "Ruminating only makes things worse. Trust me, I know better than anyone how insane being in your own head makes you. Your old man always tried to teach me how to quiet the noise, and it took far too long for me to listen." Mike's face flashed before him, and sadness stabbed his heart again. "But there's still hope for you, so you'd be wise to listen tothisold man."

"Right. Okay." Teagan blinked back tears and reached for a fresh napkin. A pile of them sat crumbled next to her.

"I'm sorry," said Elijah, "I didn't mean to make you cry--"

"No, it's okay," she assured him as she dabbed her eyes. "I'm not crying because of what you said."

Her parents just died you idiot, of course she's not crying because of you.

"I actually really appreciate you saying that," she continued. "It's refreshing to hear something actually helpful after days of nothing but 'I'm sorry for your loss,' and 'everything will be okay.'"

"I know it all gets so overwhelming," said Elijah. "Even annoying. But everyone's just trying to be supportive."

"I know, I know." She twisted the napkin in her hand. "I'm justreallyready for this day to be over."

"Good news then. It almost is." Elijah took a sip of his coffee and looked out the nearby window, to the setting sun peaking over the distant horizon, its dark orange light flickering through the gaps of the endless barrage of traffic passing by.

Teagan nodded and took another longer sip of her latte as she stared out at the sun with him. It had been her suggestion to meet up for a shot of much needed caffeine after the last of the mourners had left, and he couldn't refuse. Not her. Not that day.

"How areyouholding up?" asked Teagan. She turned back to face him. "I feel like I haven't asked you that yet."

"I'm sad," he admitted. He took another sip. "And pissed off. I miss them..." Elijah's vocal cords quivered, stirring tears behind his eyes. He looked away and held them back, not wanting to burden the girl with his pain, but before he could Teagan was reaching for his hand. He gave it to her, questioning himself for only moment until her skin touched his and his heart ached just a little less.

"I really appreciate all your help these last few days Uncle Eli. Helping with the arrangements and just...being here. I couldn't have gotten through this shit without you."

"Right back at ya, kiddo," he said. "And if you need anything else,anything, just let me know. Whatever it is. I'm here."

Elijah loved that she still called him "Uncle". He wasn't related by blood of course, but her parents had insisted on placing the label on him shortly after she was born. "You're basically her uncle," Lindsay had proclaimed, and he knew better than to protest.

Since then he had always tried his best to live up to the role. It was difficult at first. Elijah had never been fond of kids, so when Mike handed Teagan over to him fresh out of the hospital, swaddled and pink-faced, he took her begrudgingly. But it got easier over time. Soon he grew fond of her, and even sooner that fondness grew into a sort of love he never thought to have.

So he continued to hold her, and play with her, and love her, and watch her grow, all with a fatherly pride that warmed his heart and gave his life purpose. Now she was twenty-two, a woman fully bloomed, but you wouldn't know it at first sight. Teagan was exceptionally small even for her sex; well under five feet tall, thin-limbed and tight-waisted. She had inherited her mother's full lips and soft eyes, along with her father's broad nose and slightly oversized ears. The combination was a potent one, making her look cuter than she ever seemed to realize.

Sorrow is a good look for her,Elijah thought against his will. Her mascara had long melted to a day's worth of tears, leaving striking pools of black under her almond eyes that rivered down her rounded cheeks. He turned away and took another sip of his coffee, fearing he'd been staring too long.

"Actually, there is something more you can help me with."

"Shoot," said Elijah.

"I don't go back to school for another week, so I'll be staying home for a little while longer." Teagan crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders. "I don't think I can stand being alone in that house right now. It's so empty. Will you...will you stay there with me for a few days? I could use some help organizing their stuff too. I just...don't want to do it alone..."

"Hey." Elijah rubbed his thumb across the top of her hand. It was pleasingly soft. He kept rubbing. "Say no more. I'd be happy to stay and help."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. I still have plenty of time off work to use. I'll stay as long as you need. Let's finish our coffee, and I'll drive us home."

And for the first time that day, Teagan smiled.

***

She was crying again when he pulled his car into the driveway.

9835 Maplewood Lane. Mike and Lindsay's house.

It welcomed them with a sadness of its own, its upper story windows looking like a set of forlorn eyes staring down at them. When they stepped out, Teagan bounded toward the door and rushed upstairs to her room without saying a word. For the rest of the day she locked herself away, long after the sun had set and well into the night. Many times Elijah grew worried, and many times he checked on her, never knocking, just listening. Sometimes he could hear her sobbing through the door. Other times he heard nothing at all.

She'll come out when she's ready,he assured himself every time.

Elijah took some time to walk the house; to reacquaint himself with this familiar now unfamiliar place. Mike and Lindsay's ghosts followed him, through the living room and the kitchen on the first floor and up the stairs to the second, to the bedrooms and bathroom knitted side by side by a single narrow hallway, all of it garnished with lovingly framed snapshots of the life they'd built together. A life that was now dead.

When Elijah had finally decided he'd had enough grieving for the day, he freed himself of his jacket and dress pants, and only after did he realize that in his haste to bring Teagan home, he hadn't brought any of his own amenities.I'll just have to make do,he thought. He tossed aside the cushions from the living room sleeper sofa, pushed the nearby coffee table aside, and unfolded the bed hidden within.I've spent many nights in this bed.Its comfort called to him, and he let out an audible moan when he laid down for the first time that day. A slight pain poked his right hip, reminding him that his youth was long passed.

Another thing that's dead.

Sleep didn't come easy that night, as it hadn't since they'd passed. He laid awake, tossing and turning to the memories of Mike and Lindsay, and little Teagan, their only living legacy. Guilt, sadness, anger, it all whirled around in his head like a tornado. He cried and cried and cried some more, and when slept finally came, it was short-lived and beat against his skull.

It was late in the morning when Elijah awoke to the sound of clattering pans and the smell of something sizzling. He slipped his dress pants and undershirt back on, making sure he was decent before stumbling drearily into the kitchen, where he found Teagan, toiling at breakfast in a pair of blue plaid pajama pants and a faded graphic tee.

"Good morning."

It was only when she didn't answer back that he noticed she had earbuds in, and was swaying her hips a bit.She's dancing, Elijah realized. He watched her for a moment. Teagan's movements seemed merry, minute yet graceful, and he could make out the faint outline of her butt gyrating against the thin fabric of her bottoms. It was a pleasant sight, he couldn't deny. He stared for too long before finally averting his gaze, ashamed with himself for noticing at all.

"I said good morning!"

Teagan yelped and turned, flailing her spatula and flicking droplets of grease into the air. "Jesus, you scared me!" She placed one hand over her heart and pulled the earbuds out. "Good morning to you too, you jerk."

Elijah crossed his arms and leaned back, unable to hide his amusement. He had always enjoyed scaring the girl. "What did I always use to tell you kiddo?"

"Keep your nose in the wind," she recited, as if on autopilot, "and your eyes on the skyline. Yeah yeah, I know."

She remembers.Elijah beamed with pride. His father had quoted it to him often, a line from his favorite movie, and since hehad no children of his own to pass these cinematic words of wisdom down to, Teagan had found herself the unlucky recipient. "Glad to see you up. How you feeling?"

"Better, I guess," said Teagan. "I cried so much last night I don't think I can cry anymore. At least for a while. So that's good." She turned her attention back to the stove, to a second skillet filled with scrambled eggs. "I assumed you wanted breakfast. There's all this food left in the house, and figured we shouldn't let it go to waste."

"You were right."

Elijah began to take a seat at the kitchen table, but Teagan stopped him. "Ah ah, not so fast, I have a job for you." She pointed to the toaster at the end of the kitchen counter. "Can you make the toast? Two slices each, with butter and jelly, please and thank you."

"Yes ma'am." Elijah opened the cabinet above the toaster, where he found half a bag of sliced wheat bread. He pulled out four slices, slipped them into the four-slotted toaster, and placed the bag back. "So, what were you dancing too?"

Teagan looked at him, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Hanson," she admitted.

"Wow." Elijah failed to stifle a laugh while he opened the fridge, grabbing a small container of butter and a jar of grape jelly.

"Hey, 'MMMbop' is a classic fromyourgeneration," she pointed, "don't pretend you don't know."

Elijah threw his hands in the air. "Hey, I didn't say anything. Just surprised is all. Surprised to see you dancing actually..."

"I know it's probably weird," said Teagan, sounding guilty, "but you know how they say that forcing a smile is supposed to make you feel happy? Well, I thought maybe listening to a catchy song and dancing could make me feel a little less sad. You know, force the happiness."

"Did it?"

"I'm not sure, you interrupted me. I guess there's only one way to find out." Teagan fiddled with her phone for a few moments, and suddenly 'MMMbop' by Hanson was blaring from its tiny speaker. She set the phone down on the counter and starting sashaying her hips. "Dance with me," she demanded in that familiar tone of hers that told him he had little choice.

Still, he tried to deny her. "No, no, I'm good."

"C'mon." She brought up the spatula to her mouth and began singing along. "Mmmbop, ba duba dop ba du bop!"

Just then the toaster spit up its toast with a metallicclank,barely audible over the song. Elijah began spreading the butter and jelly on the toast, hoping Teagan would back off, but she was relentless.

"C'mon!" she begged, swaying her hips more. "Don't make me dance by myself."

She needs me,Elijah reminded himself. He forced his foot to tap and his head to bob.

"That's it!" Teagan exclaimed, "a du dop ba du, yeah, yeah..."

As Teagan danced her desperate dance, Elijah was brought back to when she was eight years old, when she was a background dancer in some school performance he scarce remembered now, so eager to show him her moves. She had lacked finesse, obviously; her arms and legs were short and stubby, her moves cumbersome. But like all kids she made up for her novice shortcomings by sheer enthusiasm. She was so happy, and that was all that mattered.

Neither was the case now. Now her limbs were long and toned, her moves seasoned and oddly captivating. And where once she had been happy, now she was sad.