Page 190
Story: Melody (Logan 1)
"Right now," I said and started down the hill. I was running on anger and disappointment. He caught up.
"I'll just go tell Dad," he said when we reached the house.
"Just drive us there, Cary. Don't go asking for permission for every breath you take."
He looked at me, then nodded. "Okay, let's go."
We got into the truck and he backed out of the driveway. As we pulled away from the house, I saw Uncle Jacob step out and look after us. The moment we drove up Grandma Olivia and Grandpa Samuel's driveway, I opened the door. Cary hadn't even brought the truck to a stop. He hit the brakes and I was out, rushing toward the front door.
Cary slammed his door and followed. I pushed the buzzer, waited a second, and pushed it again. Grandpa opened the door, his face somber.
"Melody," he said, surprise overcoming sadness quickly.
"Where's Grandma Olivia?" I demanded. There was no sense talking to him, I thought quickly. She makes all the decisions in this family. I rushed in past him.
"Just what's going on here?" she demanded. She was standing in the sitting room doorway.
"You heard about my mother, your niece?" I fired. She stiffened.
"Jacob just called."
"What a terrible thing," Grandpa said, coming up beside me.
"I don't want her buried here. I want her buried back in Sewell beside my daddy," I said. "It's where she belongs."
"Sewell?" Grandma looked at Grandpa and then at Cary. "She's my sister's daughter. She doesn't belong there. She belongs here."
"Where she hasn't been welcomed for years and years," I spit back at her. "How can you be such a hypocrite!"
Grandma Olivia's face lost whatever color it had and became a pale, mean moon, bent on destruction.
"I'm no hypocrite. I have never said one thing and done another. I have never lied and I have always been a woman who keeps her word and her promises. Your mother was my sister's child and belongs in our ground near my father's and my mother's graves. She doesn't belong in some str
ange place beside a man who married her for all the wrong reasons."
"That man is your son," I reminded her.
"Was my son," she reminded me. "I will not lay out money to send her remains there. She should be with her family."
"Why couldn't you feel that way when she was alive?"
"You know the answer to that question," she said. "You're overwrought, emotionally disturbed. All of us have been taken by surprise. None of us wanted to see such a tragedy, but it's happened. It began some time ago and has finally been brought to this horrible end. The least we could do for Haille's poor soul is put her remains where she has some familial company. You're too overwhelmed to discuss the matter." She turned away.
"I'll dig her up and bring her back to Sewell. Someday I will. I swear."
"When I'm dead and gone, you can do whatever you want, but I would hope that by then you would have grown up," she replied. "I'm sorry for your sorrow. Losing a mother is never easy, no matter how your mother has treated you, but we must go on and do what is right, the things that are good. Cary, see that she gets home." She left us.
I stood there for a few moments.
"She's right, my dear." Grandpa put his arm around me. "She usually is. She's a remarkable woman."
"She's an ogre," I said. "The only thing that's remarkable is how you all let her get away with bullying you." I pulled away from him and marched out of the house.
Cary followed and we got back into the truck. "There's nothing we can do," he said. "We have no money, no authority--"
"I know. Let's go home." I lowered my head.
The house was deadly quiet upon our return. I went directly to my room and lay there, thinking, remembering, crying when I had built up some tears again. May came to my door to sign her regrets. I thanked her, but I didn't want to be consoled, even by her. I was still quite bitter and angry. Later, Aunt Sara sent May up with a tray of food. I couldn't eat anything, but I let her stay with me and tried to explain and describe Mommy to her when she asked me to tell her about her.
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