or anything. It's not like I honestly believe I'll marry the first guy I ever kiss, but I don't want it to just be with some random guy at a party or something."
"I don't think that's stupid. As a girl who had her first kiss at a party as part of a party game, I can honestly tell you that it's not the most romantic experience."
There was a sharp knock on the door, followed almost immediately by Marla opening the door. She didn't even glance at me and instead said to Krista, "Mother Georgina died."
"Oh no." I felt a vague sadness, but I barely knew the woman. I had only met with her two or three times more after the first day I arrived. I expected to see some genuine sadness from Marla and Krista, but there was nothing. Marla left the room as suddenly as she entered it.
"Are you ok?" I asked Krista.
She seemed preoccupied, but I believed her when she told me she was fine. I'm not sure what level of grief I thought Krista would be suffering, but she certainly looked like she was doing ok. I excused myself to find my mother and Ramona.
I found them both sitting in the upstairs suite with Mother Georgina's body. "Marla told Krista and I that she died. Are you guys ok?"
Mom looked like she might be sad, but it was such a distant, disconnected emotion. It seemed like the kind of sadness you'd see from someone who just learned a celebrity died. Assuming it was a celebrity that they were barely familiar with. She nodded and continued to look thoughtful.
"We're fine. She was old and it was her time to go." Ramona was oddly full of energy. Instead of mourning, she seemed to be feeling jubilant. Unable to contain it anymore, she got up and started pacing the room. Her loose silk tunic rippled behind her as she did laps. I watched her for a minute longer, noting a faint smile.
What kind of sick woman was happy when her mother died? Would I feel that way if my mother died? Was I even capable of going on with my life knowing that someone close to me, however distant emotionally, died? I wanted to be able to say that I was able to answer that as a firm no, but unfortunately I was forced to the conclusion that I just couldn't know until the time came. I barely knew my mom. Losing her might not seem like such a great loss to me at all.
We buried Mother Georgina a few days later. It was an overcast day, perfectly suited for the mood I was in. The rest of the family was still strangely apathetic to the death except for Ramona who nearly capered with glee. I was confused and uncomfortable with the nonchalant way everyone was dealing with this loss. Ramona insisted that I stay home from school until after the funeral so I'd had ample time to assess the nonexistent sorrow. Given my upbringing I knew I wasn't a good person to judge what was normal, but this just seemed wrong.
The service was short and well attended. I couldn't be sure, of course, but it seemed like most of the town turned out. At one point I overheard Ramona telling mom that it was a good show of respect and she was glad to see that they were following tradition.
As we were walking back to the cars to leave the cemetery, Ramona said, "Thistle, when we get home change clothes and meet your mother and I in the library in fifteen minutes. We've got some things to discuss."
I wondered what they wanted to talk to me about. I regretted that I wasn’t riding with Krista so that we could have discussed it, but she was in a second car with her parents and Darcy. Desire is a small town and we were home within ten minutes. I slipped on my work out clothes with plans to go for a jog after my meeting.
Even though I took almost the full fifteen minutes I was allotted, mom didn't show up for another five minutes and we waited on Ramona together for almost twenty more minutes. She was a master of being fashionably late. I'd watched her arrive late to more appointments over the years than I could possibly remember. She was able to charm herself out of any kind of bad
"I don't think that's stupid. As a girl who had her first kiss at a party as part of a party game, I can honestly tell you that it's not the most romantic experience."
There was a sharp knock on the door, followed almost immediately by Marla opening the door. She didn't even glance at me and instead said to Krista, "Mother Georgina died."
"Oh no." I felt a vague sadness, but I barely knew the woman. I had only met with her two or three times more after the first day I arrived. I expected to see some genuine sadness from Marla and Krista, but there was nothing. Marla left the room as suddenly as she entered it.
"Are you ok?" I asked Krista.
She seemed preoccupied, but I believed her when she told me she was fine. I'm not sure what level of grief I thought Krista would be suffering, but she certainly looked like she was doing ok. I excused myself to find my mother and Ramona.
I found them both sitting in the upstairs suite with Mother Georgina's body. "Marla told Krista and I that she died. Are you guys ok?"
Mom looked like she might be sad, but it was such a distant, disconnected emotion. It seemed like the kind of sadness you'd see from someone who just learned a celebrity died. Assuming it was a celebrity that they were barely familiar with. She nodded and continued to look thoughtful.
"We're fine. She was old and it was her time to go." Ramona was oddly full of energy. Instead of mourning, she seemed to be feeling jubilant. Unable to contain it anymore, she got up and started pacing the room. Her loose silk tunic rippled behind her as she did laps. I watched her for a minute longer, noting a faint smile.
What kind of sick woman was happy when her mother died? Would I feel that way if my mother died? Was I even capable of going on with my life knowing that someone close to me, however distant emotionally, died? I wanted to be able to say that I was able to answer that as a firm no, but unfortunately I was forced to the conclusion that I just couldn't know until the time came. I barely knew my mom. Losing her might not seem like such a great loss to me at all.
We buried Mother Georgina a few days later. It was an overcast day, perfectly suited for the mood I was in. The rest of the family was still strangely apathetic to the death except for Ramona who nearly capered with glee. I was confused and uncomfortable with the nonchalant way everyone was dealing with this loss. Ramona insisted that I stay home from school until after the funeral so I'd had ample time to assess the nonexistent sorrow. Given my upbringing I knew I wasn't a good person to judge what was normal, but this just seemed wrong.
The service was short and well attended. I couldn't be sure, of course, but it seemed like most of the town turned out. At one point I overheard Ramona telling mom that it was a good show of respect and she was glad to see that they were following tradition.
As we were walking back to the cars to leave the cemetery, Ramona said, "Thistle, when we get home change clothes and meet your mother and I in the library in fifteen minutes. We've got some things to discuss."
I wondered what they wanted to talk to me about. I regretted that I wasn’t riding with Krista so that we could have discussed it, but she was in a second car with her parents and Darcy. Desire is a small town and we were home within ten minutes. I slipped on my work out clothes with plans to go for a jog after my meeting.
Even though I took almost the full fifteen minutes I was allotted, mom didn't show up for another five minutes and we waited on Ramona together for almost twenty more minutes. She was a master of being fashionably late. I'd watched her arrive late to more appointments over the years than I could possibly remember. She was able to charm herself out of any kind of bad
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