Janice Gorey opened her eyes, looking upright at the ceiling above her, and the catwalk she'd fallen from. The lights were still up, so at least she'd succeeded in that part of her job, she figured. She groaned as she tried to move, but quickly realized her back screamed in pain anytime she moved even a muscle, so trying to get up on her own was out of the question. She quickly heard someone racing over to her, and kneeling down. It was one of the other theatre girls, the one who often did set work. She had dark brown eyes, long sand blonde hair and, despite being in high school, still had braces.
"Oh my god, are you..are you okay?" she asked, putting her hands on Janice's shoulders and trying to move her, which only resulted in Janice screaming at the top of her lungs thanks to the pain in her back until she passed out. When she woke up, it was weeks later, and she was still in the hospital. Her life was never the same after this. For a while she had a backbrace while she did physical therapy to help her walk well again, and for a while after that her mother still didn't want her doing anything too physically challenging. And after a few years, her mother got her her job working as a janitor at the local middle school, just so she had something to do. Standing in the hallways, mopping up, watching kids who would eventually age past her mental state laugh and hang out together, Janice couldn't help but feel so angry. So very very angry. She would never have someone understand her the way others had. She would forever be stuck at a certain state in her life, thanks to the injury her brain had taken during the accident, and she would never ever feel like she belonged with anyone, around anyone, or to anyone. And then... ...and then Janice Gorey met John Reynolds. *** "Alrighty girls, napkins on your laps," Reynolds said, sitting in a booth at a diner as the waitress set down plates of waffles for his daughter, Clarissa, and of course Ellie Hawley, who had been living with him for a little over 3 months now. He himself had ordered scrambled eggs and bacon, and was pleased as punch when the waitress also put his plate down in front of him, before going to get the pot of coffee and refill it. "So," Clarissa said, cutting into her waffle with her fork and then spearing it, lifting it to her lips, "I'm excited to see how well you do at coaching." "Not well," Reynolds said, laughing, shaking his head, "actually, pretty badly. Somehow we're not the worst team in the county, but boy are we close. But it isn't about winning anyway, it's just about having fun and making sure parents have somewhere to put their kids while they try to ignore them for a few extra hours." Hawley snickered, and Clarissa smiled. She took another piece of waffle into her mouth and looked at Hawley. "Has he been a good dad?" Clarissa asked, "cause admittedly it's been a while since I've been around him." "He's a pretty good dad, even a good substitute dad," Hawley said, "but he's right, he's not a very good coach." "Thank you, glad we're in agreement," Reynolds said. Just then they looked at the side of the table, realizing Gorey was standing there. Reynolds smiled and scooted down to allow her to climb into the booth beside him. As she did, his eyes widened, and he noticed something new. "You got a nose ring!" he said, pointing at her, coffee mug in his fist. "I did," she said, "I figured if I act like a teenager I may as well look like a teenager." "Should I get a nose ring?" Reynolds asked, "Should we get matching tattoos?" "You keep making fun of me and I'll stick you with something right now," Gorey said, making him laugh; she grinned and tossed her bangs from her eyes, continuing, "anyway, I just thought it'd be neat. Switch things up a little, you know? Maybe next I'll buy a motorcycle." Reynolds chuckled and told Gorey to order whatever she wanted on his dime, so she did. After breakfast, she got in her car and said she'd see him at the school, while he put the girls in his own and started to head in the same direction. All in all, it was a pretty good morning. The girls even picked the radio station, and Reynolds even sang along with them. Hawley didn't know how it felt to have a family until these last few months, but now that she had one...she knew she never wanted to go back to being alone. *** "There's a level of uncertainty that comes with death," Delilah said, crossing her legs as she sat on her chair, "and I like to provide a level of certainty in that time of uncertainty. I like the people I help to know that they don't have to worry about anything, that everything is taken care of, and that they can just grieve. That's what you get when you hire my services." The man sitting across from her, in his nice suit and shiny shoes, sniffled and ran his hands down his face. His sister, in a tight black dress, put her hand on his leg and patted him. "It's been hard," she said, "she was our younger sister, so we feel like we failed her, even though it was something we never could've protected her from to begin with. But that lack of accountability still makes us feel bad, regardless." "That's perfectly understandable, and I can direct you to some wonderful grief counselors if you need that," Delilah said, "but aside from that, you do have to make a few decisions here. Open casket, closed casket, what kind of casket, on top of burial placement and whatnot." The man and his sister - Jeff and Leslie respectively - exchanged a quick nervous glance. "Closed," they said in unison. "Okay," Delilah said, jotting it down on a piece of paper attached to a clipboard. "We don't want anyone to see her face," Leslie whispered, "not after what she did to it." Delilah nodded, interested but not willing to pry. Her job was to provide help in a time of need, not push for information about something that wasn't even hers to know. Besides, she figured when the moment came, she'd find out anyway, seeing as she had to do all the embalming and whatnot. Delilah cleared her throat, tapped her pen on the pad and then looked back up at the brother and sister. "...are you two okay?" she asked. "We'll be alright," Leslie said, "but thank you for asking." "That's what I'm here for," Delilah replied, smiling warmly. She figured she may not ever be able to overcome her own grief, but the least she could do is help others overcome theirs. *** Come the afternoon, Reynolds and Clarissa were seated on the outdoor bleachers, watching the team practice. Clarissa was drinking a soda, while Reynolds was eating from a bag of minidonuts. As they watched, Reynolds held the bag out towards Clarissa, and she happily stuck her arm in and took a few, shoveling them in her mouth, making him laugh. "God, didn't I teach you any manners?" he asked. "Why?" Clarissa asked, speaking through a mouthful of tiny donuts, "is this unladylike?" Reynolds cracked up while Clarissa finished eating, and then washed them down with the rest of her soda, crushing the can in her hand and then belching. Reynolds leaned over and patted her back. "That's my girl," he said. "Your team sucks," Clarissa said, "I mean, no disrespect, I know they're middle schoolers, but still. Are they all this ridiculously uncoordinated, or is it just most of them? Don't you have a ringer, at least? The best player you have is that Tyler kid but one person can't carry an entire team." "Sure he can, they're middle schoolers, they don't weigh much," Reynolds replied, making Clarissa laugh; Reynolds shrugged, adding, "I don't really care, you know? I just know that this is a place for them to not feel so alone, and to work together. School sports outside of high school and college are rarely seen as something a child wants to do, and instead seen as an extension of after school babysitting paid for with tax dollars. Let 'em run around, blow off steam, be terrible at stuff. I'd rather they know they were bad than think they were good, only to eventually be crushed the overwhelming realization that they aren't actually talented." They heard the sound of someone climbing on the bleachers and looked to see Gorey, in her jumpsuit, seating herself on the opposite side of Reynolds, who also offered her donuts which she happily took. As she sat down and bit into a donut, she pulled her headphones down and let them hang around her neck. "How's things?" she asked. "Terrible," Clarissa and Reynolds said in unison, then laughing. "You guys are like twins, it's scary," Gorey said. Clarissa quickly hopped off the bleachers and ran onto the field, to talk to one of the players, leaving Gorey and Reynolds alone. "She's spry," Gorey said, "I used to be spry." "Yeah, when? When you were her age? Cause I'm pretty sure that was a universal thing," Reynolds said. "No, well, I guess, but I meant moreso before my accident, which I suppose was around her age," Gorey said, "but after my back broke, I've never really been the same physically." "God, are you ever gonna get over that?" Reynolds asked, smirking, making Gorey giggle and slap his arm; he shook his head and continued, "naw, I understand, and that sucks. I'm genuinely sorry about that. But it made you into the person you are today, and I happen to like that person very much, so I think the trade off was worth it." "Yeah, maybe for your benefit," Gorey said, "all I know is that I feel like a failure as an adult." "Most adults are failures, Jan," Reynolds said, "for fucks sake, look at me. I used to be a famous show host, now I do this. I think between the two of us you're still coming out on top, all caveats considered." "The comparison game is fun and all, but I for one like to believe I'm at rock bottom. If I can't be the best at something, at least boost my self esteem by being the worst at everything," Gorey said, and Reynolds nodded, pointing at her. "Now THAT'S some solid planning," he remarked. *** Ever since Clarissa had arrived, she and Hawley had been sharing a room. The room Reynolds have specifically given to Hawley and let her decorate and make her own. But Clarissa didn't care about decorating. All she needed was a bed and a place for the few things she did bring with her. Still, Hawley couldn't help but feel a little weird about having to share the one space that had been somewhat reserved for her with someone else, even if that someone else was Reynolds daughter and even if they had gotten along super well. Lying on her bed doing her homework that evening while Reynolds was out with Rebecca Little at dinner, Hawley could hear Clarissa rummaging around in the kitchen, clearly pulling some kind of metal out from somewhere. She finally set her pencil down and rolled off the bed, headed down the hall and arrived in the kitchen to find Clarissa setting a baking sheet on the countertop in the kitchen; Clarissa waved at Hawley as she entered the room. "What are you doing?" Hawley asked. "I'm making cookies," Clarissa said, "Do you wanna help? Baking's always more fun with two people, plus it's a rooted in femininity, if only because society has claimed it to be." Hawley smiled and nodded, approaching more. Now on the other side of the counter, Clarissa pulled the fridge door open and pulled out a roll of cookie dough and then a knife from the butcher block, handing both to Hawley as she started to spray the pan and line it with tinfoil. "So just cut those into thin slices," Clarissa said, "but be careful you don't cut yourself though. I don't know where dads first aid kit is." Hawley giggled, and did as she was instructed while Clarissa got the oven prepared. While she waited, watching Hawley do her bit of the work, Clarissa walked over to the radio her father kept in the kitchen and turned it on, finding a pop rock station and bouncing around in the kitchen joyfully. She came back to the counter after a moment and jumped up on it, sitting there. "I never had a sister," Clarissa said, "I always wanted one, but mom and dad were always way too busy with work to think about having another kid. And then, of course, once it was obvious their marriage was over, why bring another child into the family at that point? So this is cool. It's cool to have a little sister." Hawley blushed as she finished cutting the cookie dough and started handing them to Clarissa, who plopped them carefully down onto the foil covered baking tray. "I never had any siblings either," Hawley said, "so, yeah, it is cool. I'm just glad you don't hate me." "Why would I hate you?" "For taking your dad away, or..." Hawley trailed off and looked away, then exhaled and continued. "Right before you showed up, he took me to a concert," she said, "and while I was there that night I met some girls who I thought were being nice to me, but once they had me alone, outside and away from everyone else, they attacked me. Kicked me on the ground. Told me I was a fraud and that I was just trying to take things away from 'actual' women." "Well, then they're just plain stupid," Clarissa said, "cause you're as much a girl as any other girl, okay? And if anyone says otherwise, I'll just kick their ass." Hawley grinned and nodded. Clarissa really was like her father, and honestly, the more Reynolds around the better, Hawley felt. *** Rebecca ran her long slender fingers through Reynolds hair, grinning as she pulled her lips from his and then backed away. Reynolds exhaled and leaned against the inside of the passenger door, shaking his head a little to regain his composure. Rebecca Little had come and picked him up for date night, just so if anyone drove by his apartment they'd see his car there and hopefully not bother the girls thinking he was home, and now they were parked only a mere block away, frenching. "I don't think I've gotten busy in a car since high school," Reynolds said, chuckling. "Gotten busy? You also apparently haven't updated your lingo since high school either," Little said, pulling her rearview mirror down and reapplying her lipstick. "Where'd you learn to kiss so well?" "I taught myself using a pillow with a picture of an actors face taped onto it when I was a teenager," Little said, shrugging, "it's a right of passage I think for most straight girls." "How come everything a girl does is super cute but if a guy does the same thing he's a weirdo?" Reynolds asked, "Like, if I told people I cut out the face of an actress I liked and then attached it to a pillow so I could learn how to kiss, they wouldn't think that's adorable, they'd think I'm a serial killer in the making." Little threw her head back, laughing, as she capped her lipstick tube and dropped it back into her purse. She sighed, tossed her hair and then looked back at Reynolds, who was adjusting his tie and rubbing the stubble on his face. After a moment he noticed her looking at him, and he looked back, their eyes meeting and both laughing nervously. "How are things at home?" she asked. "Really good," Reynolds said, "for the first time in a long time, it feels like I have family again. I missed having family. And the girls are getting along just beautifully," he pulled out a carton of cigarettes and slid one out, putting in his mouth before stopping and looking at Little asking, "you don't mind, do you?" "No, just roll the window down and don't exhale in the car," she said. "Right, cool," Reynolds replied, lighting it and taking a long drag, puffing the smoke out the window and ashing it out the car before continuing, "anyway, I think it's good for them to have eachother. Hawley doesn't really have any girls around her age she can bond with, and Clarissa always wanted a sister, so I think in a way it's a mutually beneficial situation for all involved." "Any word from her mom?" Little asked, and Reynolds grimaced. "Eh, she's called a few times, and we've spoken about Clarissa being out here, but she also is so busy she doesn't really have the time to make a fuss about it, so for the time being she's just gonna be out here and that's that," Reynolds remarked, shrugging, "but it's all good. Everyone's happy, which is nice." Rebecca Little smiled and watched him smoke for a few minutes in total silence. He was the best man she'd dated in years, but there was something about him that she couldn't put her finger on that made her nervous. Perhaps it was his unwavering devotion to his daughter, and perhaps - selfish as it may seem - Little wanted that attention for herself. Still, she loved the times she and Reynolds were having together, and she did really care about him. She sighed and started up the car, heading around the block and towards his apartment. As they arrived, he climbed out, went around to her side of the car and kissed her through the open window before saying goodnight and heading inside, where here came upon freshly baked cookies, and two very happy young ladies. *** Delilah pulled the cold steel door open and headed down the stairs to the basement, where she did all her embalming. The brother and sister she'd met with yesterday and gotten the body to her this very morning, and she was admittedly curious as to why they wanted a closed casket, so she figured the best way to find out was to simply start the embalming procedures and see the girl for herself. As she reached the bottom and turned the lights on, the brightness gleaming off all the metal downstairs from the tools to the tables, she couldn't help but feel somewhat put off for once. Normally this work didn't irk her, but something about the way they'd spoken about their sister... Delilah pulled the rolling slab over to her with their sisters body on it, still zipped tightly in a body bag. She exhaled, grabbed the zipper with one hand and steadied the cart with the other as she slowly brought the body bag down around her corpse, only to stop midway through and turn away, putting one of her gloved hands to her mouth in almost a purely reactionary state. She leaned against the wall, far away from the table and took some deep breaths. Now she understood why. Their sister had taken a shotgun to her mouth, in a clear act of suicide. Delilah was surprised by how troubled she was upon seeing this, because, as said, normally this sort of work didn't bother her. But...but perhaps others grief were beginning to make too much sense to her, having still a lot of grief of her own to work through. Still, she had a job to do. Delilah took a few minutes, then finally turned around and reapproached the table, picking up her tools and deciding to get to work. As she started to cut into the young woman, she realized she was crying. "I'm so sorry nobody helped you," she whispered, "but I'm helping you now. I'm helping you now." She knew the woman couldn't hear her, but it was all she could do to get through the day.
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GRAVE INNINGS is about A funeral home that has sponsored a local little league, the coach who is a disgraced reality show host, a young transgirl and the odd family they create for one another. Archives
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