depressing.
Sadie smoothed a hand down the black dress that came to her knees, the tips of her black pumps dusty on the toe from the gravel she’d have to clean tonight. These were her favorite. She toyed with the single strand of pearls resting on the underside of the collar of her dress. Her grandmother’s gift to her on her deathbed, and Sadie’s most prized possession.
“Honey, sleep downstairs in my apartment tonight,” her sister, Theresa, pleaded. “I hate the thought of you upstairs alone with this day on your mind. Please stay with me.”
Sadie fought not to crumble under the pity in Theresa’s warm eyes and relented to her just to appease her sister.
Years ago when they inherited the brownstone, Sadie claimed the upstairs apartment as it held the most sunlight. From the bedroom window, she had an unobstructed view of Salem Park. At night, the moon lit the tops of the trees down to the open expanse of lawn.
“Theresa, I’d rather be alone tonight.” Approaching Theresa’s car, Sadie opened the door to the old Ford, and placed her purse on the back seat. Heat from the closed up car rolled out in moist waves. Gripping the stick holding the program, she fanned her face, sweat trickling down her back. The rain had stopped, and the humidity rose, curling the edges of her hair. She watched the hive of well-wishers swarming her way to offer condolences. The part she didn’t care for were the fake smiles and hugs that lasted too long to be appropriate.
If one more person said it was a blessing for them to go together, Sadie would scream. The grimace of her compressed lips must have scared off the next round of comments.
It was time to go home and get ready for the guests. She loved her family, but they hadn’t given her a moment's rest since the accident and all she wanted was to lie down and cry. Sadie scooted in, got comfortable then settled back to let her mind stop spinning.
She waited for the tears. They never came. In her heart, resentment for the careless driver ate at her soul leaving her too upset to cry.
***
At the house, cars lined the curb down to the corner to wrap around the block. Inside, she worked off the heels, setting them on the stairs. Sadie slid her feet into her well-worn greenhouse shoes while tying on an apron, protecting her dress from the overflow of food covering the table. She straightened the lace tablecloth bunched up around the dishes and platters of food covering the dining room table. Collards, green beans, black-eyed peas, fried corn, cornbread, spaghetti, fried chicken, a small plate of ribs, and enough desserts to open a bakery. Sadie reclined along the wall to the back stairs. She’d fielded her last marital status question and headed up to her apartment. By nightfall everyone had gone, leaving behind an echo in the house.
She changed into comfortable, although well worn, shorts and a tank top. Grabbing a garbage bag, she helped Theresa restore the first floor to the immaculate apartment they’d left before the funeral this morning. Before the mourners arrived, with mounds of tissue and stories that were partially correct and half made up along the way.
Mosquitoes buzzed in the twilight. She grabbed the trash bag from Theresa, still in her suit. There was no point in her sister going when she’d already changed and was on her way out to hang the clothes. She sprinted into the alley beyond the brick shed. The metal can lid clanked on the cement after she dropped it to lift the two bags of trash. She slid the lid on the can. The waning evening light caught and held her attention. Tomorrow’s a new day full of possibilities for a fresh mental start.
The grass gave off its leftover raindrops to coat her bare feet as she ran in then grabbed the basket of clothes she’d washed to keep busy. Outside, she fished out a pillowcase from the basket. She gave it a hard snap then hooked one end of the line. The close line creaked as she secured the clothespin over the