Terry and Gene 24

Terry didn't sleep. She sat in the corner of her bedroom, propped up on pillows, waiting for daylight so she could start preparing.

In the morning, she went down to the store and got some wrapping paper for the paintings. She wrapped each one and brought it down to the van. Then she carried the urn down. Finally, she showered and got dressed. She wore a black, floor length sundress with a matching scarf and her work shoes.

Ann drove her to the funeral home and helped her set up. They placed the urn on a pedestal and they put the photographs of Jason on easels on either side of it. Then they arranged his paintings in a semi-circle around it. There were refreshments on a table in the back of the room. They had Jason's favorite songs playing in the background. It wasn't a conventional set up by any stretch.
As the people filtered in, she was amazed at how many of them there were. It was only about a half hour before the place had become a party rather than a memorial. There were people talking and laughing and admiring his paintings. They had the home to themselves, so someone turned up the music and a few people started passing flasks around. Terry only knew about a third of the people there, although everyone seemed to have a story to tell her after they introduced themselves.

When the man of the cloth arrived, there was such chaos that she paid him his stipend and invited him to join the party. No point in trying to make a solemn occasion out of this. He joined the fray gladly.

Four hours later, there was only she and Ann left. Terry sighed and looked around. For all those people, there was almost no mess. Terry went to get the wrappings for the paintings and found Gene standing in the lobby, arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

Terry, who had managed to stay dry eyed all morning, felt the tears running down her cheeks. She walked up to him slowly, knowing she should say something, but not sure what. He watched her with those eyes that she had fallen into so many times. Now they were closed to her, cold and hard.

"That was quite a party."

Terry nodded with a little laugh. "It was very like Jason. I planned one thing and it turned into something else completely." She cleared her throat. She took a deep breath. Then, she bowed her head and stilled her thoughts for a moment. She took another deep breath and looked up at him.

Gene looked into her eyes. Terry could see them melting, but he didn't move. It was then that she realized that it was over between them. She swallowed hard.

"I still loved him. I lied to you and I'm sorry. I'm asking for your forgiveness, but I understand if you can't give it to me." She took a deep breath. "If you're ever lonely, call me." She bowed her head and walked away.

She found the wrapping papers in the funeral director's office. She picked them up and carried them back to the room.

With Ann's help, she wrapped the paintings and took them out to the van. Then, she returned to the room and took the pictures of Jason down and put them in the van, too. Finally, she returned to the room one last time. She stood before the urn and put both her hands on it, trying to feel him one more time. For a moment he was there, but then he was gone and only the cold urn was beneath her palms.

"Goodbye, Jason," she whispered and left him behind.

When they got home, she unwrapped the paintings and hung them up again. Then she laid down in the middle of the living room and stared up at the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" Ann asked.

"I don't know. I just felt like it." Terry said.

"Are you OK?"

"I will be," Terry said. "I will be."