Coloring Outside the Lines

Chapter Thirty-One

"Hey, this is Ray, leave a message and I'll get back to you."

I sigh and put my phone on my counter. I proceed bobby pinning my hair into a bun on the top of my head. I refrain from putting on any makeup. My dress is the only black one I own, a simple one that my mom got me for my grandma's funeral.

And it still fits two years later, for the second funeral I'll be attending.

I've been asked by Lizzie's Grandma to give a few words there, which I'm not especially comfortable with, but I told her I would. The poor lady keeps murmuring things to herself about how she was supposed to go far before her granddaughter. She's having a serious breakdown, and it's really heartbreaking.

I still haven't heard from Ray who probably hates me since I ditched him. I'm actually really upset with him because instead of ignoring my calls, he should at least let me explain. I can't believe he would abandon me like this, especially when I need him most.

"Jordan," Jacob stands at my doorframe in a suit. "It's time to go."

I nod silently and follow him out the door without another glance in the mirror.

My mom is waiting in the car in her black attire, hair pinned back. We all are silent on the drive. My family's been leaving me alone a lot, since I guess I've been taking this hard. They're careful about what they say around me. They don't make me do jobs. The pity is really wearing on me.

"Here we are," my mom says quietly, stopping the car.

I nod and step out of the car carefully. Jacob follows behind me. He puts an arm over my shoulder and walks with me into the church. This last week with the grief, Jacob has really been there for me, especially with the absence of Ray.

There are lots of people standing around the church room where the funeral is being held. A closed coffin with white roses on top of it stands on a table where Liz's grandma stands, accepting people's kind words, tissue in hand.

"Hello, Miss Fields," I say with the most of a smile as I can muster.

"Jordan," she nods, "I'm glad you could come. Thank you for speaking."

"I wouldn't miss it," I promise her.

Another reason I'm infuriated at Ray for abandoning me, he isn't here for Lizzie. He should at least have the decency to show up to the girl's funeral. If he had answered even a single call, not rejecting all of them, he would know.

"Hello, friends and family," Miss Fields says. "We welcome you to the celebration of the life of Elizabeth Maggie Fields. She will be greatly missed, we know she's in a better place."

I can hear sniffles and sobbing surrounding me as I take my seat in one of the middle rows. I'm not usually one to cry hysterically in public. Silent tears are falling down my cheeks.

******************************

Following the funeral is the open house, where we all walk through and see pictures and artifacts and such. This is the part of funerals that I really don't understand. After we all cry and talk about personal things we had done with the dead person, they bring us to the house so we have a setting for the memories?

The walls are covered in old photos of Liz as a baby and a little girl. There are also ballet shoes and old pictures she drew on tables.

"Jordan, can I have a word with you?" Lizzie's grandma asks me, coming to stand beside me.

"Sure," I nod.

I follow her up the stairs, where nobody is since the open house is only downstairs. Lizzie's room has a sign on the door clearly stating that nobody should enter without permission.

Inside, the room is covered in pink walls, colorful bedspread, bookcases, picture frames, stuffed animals, and dolls.

"Why are we in here?" I ask quietly. It must be hard for her to come in here.

"I found something I want to show you," she opens a drawer in the white dresser by Liz's bed.

A stack of envelopes is in her hand as she comes back to me. "You should know," Miss Fields explains, "that Lizzie really looked up to you. You meant a lot to her. She would talk about you all the time."

The thought makes me smile.

"I found these in her desk."

She hands me the stack of envelopes. I take them and look at the front of the first one. It has my name on the front. I rip it open and find a paper inside.

Dear Jordan-

I wanted to tell you today that you're super nice and funny and you make me laugh so hard. You're so pretty and I am lucky to be your best friend. I am your best friend, right? Even if I'm not, you're mine. You came to my birthday party today, so now I'm nine. I wanted to thank you for the present you got me. I've already started the first book in that box. Also, I was wondering if you wanted to come over this Christmas because sometimes it gets lonely with just the two of us. I can even help you make some brownies or something of you want. I'm really good at cooking ad baking. Oh! My school has an art contest after Christmas and my teacher asked me to make a painting for it. Do you think this idea looks good? (The draft is in the envelope too).

:) / Lizzie Fields

*****

The picture that goes with it is an orchard. Apples are on the ground and in the trees and there's a basket in the middle.

"I didn't know she was an artist," I whisper.

"She was always such a talented girl," Miss Fields nods. "You can take those home with you and read the lot of 'em."

"Thank you, Miss Fields," I give her a small smile.

"Of course, darling, of course," she smiles, admiring a picture of Lizzie and her parents. I can see tears welling up in her eyes. "Her family, they're all up there together now. That's the only thought getting me through this in one piece."

I nod and smile at the thought. I remember a long time ago, Lizzie told me that her parents both died in a car crash. An entire family lost in the same way. At least they'll be together again, as Miss Fields said.

"I'm sorry," I say. "About all of them."

She shakes her head, taking a tissue from her bag. "It's quite alright, dear. I'll be gone soon enough myself. I'm okay. I'm fine. It's hard, it always is, but you take note of this. You'll see them again."

"Right," I nod. "It's just the feeling of them not being there anymore. You want to call them or talk to them or anything. And you realize that they're not actually there. It's terrifying."

"It is, but you learn to accept it. Soon enough," Miss Fields nods.

I pick up the picture frame of Lizzie's family. She looks just like her mom, long blonde hair and green eyes. She looks a lot younger in this picture, maybe five. She still had that same wide smile.

"Are your stitches healing alright?" I ask, studying the faces of Liz's parents.

"They'll be fine, yes," Miss Fields says. "Thank you for your concern."

"And your car?" I ask, taking a new picture of the dresser.

"Insurance is helping out with that. I've got a temporary one until its fixed. Not bad damage, though. Not as bad as the other car got, at least," Miss Fields nods.

"Really? It was bad? What kind of car did they have?" I ask, smiling at Lizzie's crooked teeth in this picture.

"A silver Honda Civic."

The picture frame falls out of my hands and drops onto the floor, shattering.