Crimson Hearts by Reeves Nicole

Author:Reeves, Nicole [Reeves, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: oct 2020, needs an amazon review, Social Themes, Death & Dying
ISBN: 9781735703701
Google: 53PbzQEACAAJ
Publisher: Nicole Reeves
Published: 2020-10-25T04:00:00+00:00

16 Dress Blues

I finally see Dad in the kitchen Friday morning. I can’t avoid him on this day, and I feel a little ashamed for hiding out so long. His back is to me, and he’s talking to a couple of his soldiers who have come to help with the funeral. Some of them will help carry the casket after the service—I’ve seen them do that in movies before but never in person. We didn’t have a big service like this for Nana; it wasn’t what she wanted.

He’s wearing his military dress blues; all of them are. I can almost pretend we’re all dressed up to go to someone’s wedding since everyone looks their best. Except they don’t, if you look close enough. They all have heavy eyes, dark circles, and pained expressions. It would be a horrible wedding if this was the mood of the crowd.

Dad’s hair looks even more gray than usual, and I wonder how many of those gray hairs were caused by stress and grief. He’s been through a lot of days like this in his lifetime but never one for his own flesh and blood, his child.

I already put on my dress and red shoes and wrangled my thick hair into a side braid. I couldn’t find the energy to do anything more with it. I opted out of wearing makeup, so the circles under my eyes stick out like some kind of raccoon. It’s hard for me to care what I look like on a day like today.

One of Dad’s soldiers sees me around my dad’s broad shoulders, and he makes what I’m sure he thinks is a sympathetic face at me. He looks more like he’s in pain than anything else, and I shrug my shoulders in response. His tortured reaction is enough to stop Dad’s speech mid-sentence, though; he turns to face me.

“Hattie,” he breathes, looking me over from head to toe, something he’s done my whole life. I always wonder what he’s looking for. Gashes? Broken bones? Evidence that we actually have something in common? His eyes come back to meet mine, and he reaches an arm out, grasping my right shoulder lightly. “Are you hungry?”

His eyes. This is the moment I’ve avoided. Danny’s eyes are staring at me, and yet, I only feel comforted. My shoulders relax.

Dad is still waiting for an answer, but eating is the last thing on my mind. I know everyone around here seems hell-bent on feeding me, but I have no hope of keeping my stomach calm today if there’s food in there. I don’t even have hunger pains—the pain is all centered north of my stomach region.

“No, I’m not hungry. Thanks, though,” I say instead. I touch his hand that lingers on my shoulder and smile weakly at him. He’s being generous, not asking me how I feel or why I’ve been avoiding him. Not that he would; he’s not like that. His concern is always for practical things: health and welfare, things he understands.

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