Freeze-Dried Fiction Winner - Sister of the Bride by Jennifer Cooreman

Sister of the Bride

Ashes

Claire pushed past her mother, dragging her sister’s mahogany chest down the steps and through their back yard. “Claire, don’t make me beg. Her journals are all we have left.” For a moment her mother’s shoulders lost their rounded slump, her eyes flashed and she appeared ready to do battle with her oldest and only surviving daughter. 

But by the time she’d thrown a thin wrap over her nightgown, Claire had already reached the burn barrel and stood poised, ready to strike the match. Touching the flame to the first bits of paper, the fire started easily in the cold morning air. Whatever secret joys and sorrows her younger sister had recorded in her letters and journals became quick, bright tinder, envelopes and pages tumbling one after another into the roaring fire. 

As Claire stirred and banked the coals, wanting to be sure each scrap of paper was reduced to ash, she tried to tamp down her guilt and despair. When she lost a patient, when their father walked out without warning, she knew how to detach. This was her art, one she believed she had mastered.

But her sister was gone, and although she knew she was not responsible for her death, she could not separate herself from her sister's accident. She believed she could have saved her.

“Nonsense.” Claire spoke to herself as she stood near the dying fire, as if she was one of her own grief-stricken patients. “Think logically, Claire.” If anyone was to blame for Elise’s death, it was Clyde Davis. 

At the rehearsal dinner the night before their wedding, Elise’s fiancé had been vacillating wildly between laughter and tears, listening to his friends and family reminisce about his younger days, sharing his dorm room, braving the police academy together. As the night drew to a close, Claire pointedly steered Clyde away from the bar. “Better get a good night’s sleep so you’re in top form tomorrow.”  

Claire had never seen him so drunk. Was Elise embarrassed by his antics? She seemed oblivious and was glowing, radiant with excitement. Claire tried to hide her irritation. It was her sister’s night, not hers.

“After tonight, she’s yours for the rest of your life. How about letting me drive her home?” Claire tried to finesse her way past Clyde’s considerable male pride, the same way she approached difficult patients. Sideways. Telling him he was too blitzed to drive wouldn’t have gone over well, especially not in front of his police officer buddies. 

Elise shot her sister a warning glance. One that said, quite clearly, “Let go, Claire. We’re fine.” So she backed off, giving her sister one last hug.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Claire. Eight o’clock sharp. I know you can’t wait for hair and makeup!” Elise flashed a wide grin, and then she was gone.

It was only a five mile drive, Claire told herself. Nothing Clyde couldn’t handle.

 Gone

Claire returned to the restaurant to collect her things and drove home, looking forward to a good night's sleep. The ringing phone startled her. “What could Elise want now?” She was surprised to hear a stranger's voice, “There’s been an accident.” Annoyed, Claire shook her head. “I’m not on call tonight.”