Earring.

I wasn’t even inside yet and I was already a mess. My earring was nowhere to be found. I suppose I could take the other one out, then at least I wouldn’t look crazy. I would anyway; no one knew who I was.
“Excuse me, Miss? Are you alright?” I looked up and saw a handsome young man smiling down at me.
“I’ve lost my earring.” I said weakly as I stood. His smile widened. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” His beaming face was unwavering. I began to blush, feeling suddenly exposed. Without a word he ever so gingerly plucked the earring from my hair. I smiled too. “Thank you.” I said as I put slipped it back on my ear. He nodded, and with that he was gone.
I took a deep breath and headed toward the funeral home. I wore black just as everyone else did, but I sat in the back alone, hoping no one would see me. As I thought about it I realized I would probably be more inconspicuous if I was at least sharing a row with someone. I wouldn’t look out of place then. Hesitating for a moment, I got up silently and changed seats.
It was quiet. No one I could see looked sad exactly. They looked annoyed. One man checked his watch, another was texting away, and I think I saw someone reading a news paper inside of his bible. If only he could still hear us. They could all yell at him. ‘How dare you up and die! Taking away a perfectly good Saturday afternoon from all of us!’
That’s right, how dare he die. How dare he just leave me like that. How dare he make me love him. My eyes began to well. I gazed at the casket, glad it was closed. I didn’t want my last image of him to be that. I thought of the last time we were together.
We met for lunch at some random café. I chattered on incessantly as always, and he smiled and listened. Enjoying the few stolen moments we had. As we waited for the bill, I moved my chair closer to his so I could rest my head on his shoulder. He stroked my hair and softly whispered to me. We had sat there for a long time like that. He was late getting back to work. Again…
The silence was broken as someone stepped out from behind a curtain on the platform where the casket was. A hushed murmur swept across the crowd like a monsoon. As he walked by the coffin he put a firm hand on it and paused for a moment. He turned toward the podium and I saw who it was. It was the young man who had found my earring before. He must have gone in through a side door. The undertaker perhaps? I held my breath, waiting for him to speak.
“Thank you for coming today.” He said quietly into the microphone. He paused for a long moment, too long. “Sorry” His voice was horse. “My father was a good man.” He choked back another sob. His father. He took a deep breath, and continued with his memorial. Now completely composed. As he spoke his words melted away. My eyes burned.
When he came to the platform I thought he was the funeral director, and when we were outside -I couldn’t think about it. The man in the casket was his father and my lover. That’s probably why his smile was so comforting to me. It wasn’t his smile, it was his fathers. The smile I had grown to love, the smile I already missed. He rambled on.
I studied his features carefully. I knew he was only a few years younger than me, but I had never seen him before, not even a picture. I had never seen any of his family. That was the way I wanted it. I couldn’t have been with him if I had the image of the family I was destroying in my head. It had to just be about him and I. That was the way I liked it.
I touched my face, I was crying. I didn’t even realize. When I stood to go to the restroom no one looked up, no one even flinched. No one except his son. He locked eyes with me for a hard second. My heart jumped, I was like a deer caught in headlights. He didn’t keep me there long; he blinked and looked away after what seemed like forever.
All I could hear was the sound of his voice echoing behind me, chasing me away. I shouldn’t have come here. I locked the door to the bathroom behind me. I pressed the face against the cool wood of the door, and tried to calm down. My mind was racing. I could hear the muffled voice through the pine. I slid to the floor, collapsing into myself. I started to sob. I cried for all of the days I would never have with him, and all the days I took for granted. I would never feel his tender touch again, or be able to lean into him, breathing him in deeply.
The single muffled voice grew into many, and people began to walk past the door to leave. I stayed put. I couldn’t leave with all those people out there, not looking the way I did. It would be fine until they asked me how I knew him. And even if I could think of a clever quick lie, there would be no excuse for my extremely puffy eyes and red face.
After a while it quieted down. I waited a little longer after that. Plenty of time for the stragglers and close family members to leave. I stood up slowly, and smoothed out my dress. Taking a step toward the mirror, I stopped. It didn’t matter what I looked like, there was nothing that could be done about my tear stained face. Looking at my reflection now would just prevent me from leaving the porcelain room. Peeking out of the door I couldn’t see a soul wandering the corridor. I proceeded with caution. I just needed to do what I came here to do and then leave.
As I stepped up onto the platform I could feel my eyes welling again. Taking a deep breath I moved painfully toward the casket. My heart was pounding out of my chest and all I could think of was running away. I could right now, I could abandon him just like he abandoned me. But I didn’t, I didn’t because he wouldn’t have. If he could, he would be there right next to me. He was in a sense.
I ran my hand across the smooth wood, and shuttered. It was stained a rich brown color, made to look like a better quality wood than it actually was. Pine, I thought. The cheapest lumber you could buy, why not just give him a cardboard box to rest eternally in.
The note I had written was everything I couldn’t tell him now. He probably had known them all, every last one of them. Although I had the habit of talking too much, the things I said didn’t always mean that much. What a fool I was. I could have told him anytime I liked. Told him that I loved him, and the way he loved me. It told him I was sorry for all the things I never said. Which too many people would make no sense. How could one be sorry for the things one never said? If you never said anything, no one would know the different… he would. I let out a loud sob.
“What are you doing here?!” A raspy voice from behind me called. I gasped and slipped the note under the edge of the flowers on top of the coffin. I knew who it was behind me. I swallowed hard and turned to face her. I had never seen his wife before. There was raw fury in her eyes. Despite my best effort she knew who I was. I didn’t need to fight her, or defend myself or my choices. There was nothing left to fight for. He was gone.
I stepped down from the platform, and headed for the door. Her eyes dug deeper into me with every stride. As I passed her, her hand shot out and grabbed my arm. She clamped down.
“Burn in hell.” She whispered loudly.
“Mom, what’s going on here?” It was him again, my handsome stranger, her loyal son. Her and I both paused and looked at him. I ripped my arm from her iron grip and walked briskly toward the exit. As I reached the front steps I heard a voice call out. I stopped. I don’t know why though. “Who are you?” He said breathlessly. I didn’t move or say a word. I wasn’t sure I had any left. “Who are you?” he said again much more harshly. I turned then and looked him right in the eye.
“I don’t think you really want to know that.”
“I don’t ask questions unless I want to know the answer.”
“I loved your father.” Silence. “I’ll go.”
“You selfish, bitch. How dare you come here in the first place.” He bellowed.
“Selfish? Selfish?! I’m not the selfish one. Your mother is the selfish one!” I knew I had gone too far. I was wrong about not having anything to defend.
“My mother is a proud, strong woman!”
“You want to talk about pride? As she sat there today listening to your words did she shed a tear for him?” I looked away, holding back another sob.
“You don’t know anything!” he screamed, losing composure.
“Today was about him, not her! Today she was selfish and only care about what others would think of her. Foundation and mascara stains aren’t exactly becoming. I loved him with every ounce in me and every tear I shed today showed that!” I hadn’t even realized I was crying until I felt the water droplets slip down my collar.
“You stole him away from her. How could you expect her to be mournful?” He was quieter now, defenses weakening.
“I didn’t steal him.” I nearly whispered. “He was already gone when I met him.” There was silence again. It was deafening. “I never asked or expected him to leave her, and he never took away time that I knew belonged to you. I wouldn’t have that. He loved you more than anything in the world and I could never damage such a precious thing.”
“It's just not right…” he trailed off.
“I know, it wasn’t right, but you never knew of me until today. Your father was a good man; he loved and took very good care of his family. You can’t fault him for wanting some personal happiness. Everyone deserves it.” With him completely disarmed I turned and left.
As I walked away I hoped his son would someday find happiness just like he had with me. But not with stolen moments and at the cost of others feelings. Just him and the one he loved. Lasting forever, everyday feeling brand new.