Too Far 01- Fallen Too Far

I would have. I doubted I’d ever smile again. “As soon as you’re ready.”
    She nodded and rubbed her red nose with her arm.
    “I’ll let Woods know. He’ll understand,” Darla said from behind us.
    “Thank you.”
    “You be careful. Take care. Let us know how you’re doing.”
    “I will,” I replied, wondering if it would be a lie. Would I ever talk to them again?
    Darla stepped back and motioned for Bethy to come stand beside her. I waved at them both and opened the truck door to climb in. It was time I left this place behind.

Chapter Twenty- Five

    The sigh of relief I expected when I drove under the first out of only three traffic lights in Sumit, Alabama didn’t come. The numbness had taken over completely on my seven-hour drive. The words I’d heard my father say about my mother replayed over and over in my head until I couldn’t feel anything for anyone.
    I turned left at traffic light number two and headed for the cemetery. I needed to talk to momma before I checked into the only motel in town. I wanted to let her know that I didn’t believe any of it. I knew what kind of woman she was. What kind of mother she was. No one would ever compare. She’d been my rock when she’d been the one dying. Never had I feared that she’d walk away from me.
    The gravel parking lot was empty. The last time I’d been here most of the town had come to pay their last respects to my mom. Today the afternoon sun was fading away and the shadows were the only company I had.
    Stepping out of my truck, I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat. Being here again. Knowing she was here but she wasn’t. I walked down the path to her grave wondering if anyone had come to see her while I’d been gone. She had friends. Surely someone had stopped by with fresh flowers. My eyes stung. I didn’t like thinking she’d been left alone for weeks. I was glad that I’d had them bury her beside Valerie. It had made the walking away easier.
    The fresh patch of dirt was now covered in grass. Mr. Murphy had told me he would cover it in sod for free. I hadn’t been able to pay any extra. Seeing the green grass made me feel like she was properly covered as silly as that sounded. Her grave looked just like Valerie’s now. The headstone wasn’t as fancy as my sister’s. It was a simple; it had been all I could afford. I’d spent hours trying to decide exactly what I wanted it to say.
    Rebecca Hanson Wynn
    April 19, 1967 - June 2, 2012
    The love she left behind will be the reason dreams are reached. She was the rock in a world that was crumbling. Her strength will remain. It’s in our hearts.

    The family that loved me was no longer here. Standing here looking at their graves it rang home how alone I really was. I didn’t have family anymore. I would never acknowledge my father’s existence after this day.
    “I didn’t expect you back so soon.” I’d heard the gravel crunch behind me and I’d known without turning around who it was. I didn’t look at him. I wasn’t ready yet. He’d see through me. Cain had been my friend since kindergarten. The year we’d become something more it was just expected. I’d loved him for years.
    “My life is here,” I replied simply.
    “I tried to argue that point a few weeks ago.” The touch of humor in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. He liked being right. He always had.
    “I thought I needed my father’s help. I didn’t.”
    The gravel crunched a little more as he stepped up beside me. “He still an ass?”
    I only nodded. I wasn’t ready to tell Cain just what an ass my father was. I couldn’t voice that right now. Saying it out loud made it real somehow. I wanted to believe it was a dream.
    “You not like his new family?” Cain asked. He wouldn’t let up. He would ask me questions until I broke down and told him everything.
    “How did you know I was home?” I asked, changing the subject. It would only sidetrack him for a moment but I didn’t intend to stand around long.
    “You didn’t really expect to drive your truck through town and it not become the number one source of headline news within five minutes? You know this place better than that, B.”
    B. He’d called me B since we were five. He had called Valerie, Ree. Nicknames. Memories. It was safe. This town was safe.
    “Have I even been here five minutes?” I asked still studying the grave in front of me. My mother’s name etched in stone.
    “Naw, probably not. I was sitting outside the grocery