Perpetual Grief

Lacey looked in the mirror and smoothed the front of her dress with her hands before scowling at her reflection.

I look stupid.

She wasn't one for dresses and ribbons in her hair. But one of the girls at school invited her to a tea party and her grandmother insisted on her attendance.

Mother wouldn't have made me go.

But her mother was gone.

Both of Lacey's parents died in a horrible car accident the year before when their car slipped on the ice and toppled over the side of a cliff. After the funeral, Lacey's grandparents sold the home she grew up in and she moved in with them.

The whole experience was an experiment in pure torture.

Lacey's grandmother bustled into the room.

"Oh my, dear, that hair just won't do at all. The other girls will think you're a heathen."

"They already do, Grandma. I don't even know why I've been invited. Those girls hate me."

"Oh, Lacey. Hate is such a vulgar word. Please, try to be a lady for once."

Lacey's grandmother pulled on her hair as she twisted it into a hideous pile of curls on top of her head.

"Ow!"

She watched in horror as her grandmother inserted a few more bobby pins, securing the ugly disaster.

"There, it's perfect!" Her grandmother clapped her hands in delight.

"It's awful."

"Lacey Callahan, your manners are what's awful. No wonder you're having such a hard time making friends. No one wants to be friends with a rude girl."

Lacey spun around to face her grandmother.

"They're the ones who are rude! Grandma, why won't you believe me? It's awful at that school. And this party...I know they didn't invite me out of the kindness of their hearts. Not one of those girls likes me, not even a bit!"

"Now, now. Come here, little one."

Her grandmother held out her arms and Lacey allowed herself to be enveloped in the embrace. As soon as she did, tears started to pour down her face and a sob wrenched through her body with shivering violence.

"Please, Grandma. I don't want to go."

"It won't be so bad, dear. It's just a simple tea party. It will be an excellent opportunity for you to show off your manners and let those girls know that you know how to be a proper lady."

Lacey violently pushed her grandmother away.

"I don't want to be a lady! I want to go hunting with grandpa."

Her grandmother's face twisted as she fought for composure.

"Listen here, Lacey Callahan! You are going to this tea party and that's that! I don't care if you don't want to go, and I don't care if you don't want to be a lady. If you are going to live under my roof, you will follow my rules. And so help me, I will make you into a lady if it's the last thing I do! Now wipe those tears and go splash some cold water on your face. A lady doesn't go out in public with a swollen, splotchy face!"

With a huff, Lacey's grandmother turned and bustled out of the room, leaving Lacey behind to deal with her feelings alone.

Again.

She collapsed onto the floor and sobbed silently until she couldn't breathe and felt as though she would never produce another tear in her life. Then, she solemnly rose and went to the bathroom to wash her face. She rested a cold washcloth over her eyes and cheeks to reduce the swelling and cool down the redness.

Once she felt that her face was acceptable, she walked out to the living room where her grandmother was quilting.

"I'm ready to go now, Grandma."

Her grandmother finished up the row of stitches she was working on without looking up at Lacey or saying a word. Lacey stood uncomfortably in front of her, knowing that she was expected to stand tall and still until she was called upon.

When she finished, her grandmother neatly stacked her quilting square on top of her sewing basket, stood up slowly, and smoothed the front of her dress with her hands. Then she looked at Lacey for the first time since she entered the room.

"You look acceptable, dear. Now hurry along and get your coat. The nice one, not that ratty thing you wear when you go out with your grandfather."

"Yes, Grandma."

A few months later, Lacey shoved her hands into the pockets of her nice coat as they lowered her grandmother's casket into the ground. The jacket no longer fit her properly and the sleeves were too short. She had a growth spurt but her grandmother had been too ill to notice. Still, she knew Grandma would have appreciated the attempt to look like a lady.

Is it acceptable to have a splotchy face at a funeral, Grandma?

___________

Thanks for reading my story! If you enjoyed it, hearts are nice, and sharing it with your friends is better, as I get a teeny bit of change every time someone reads it, even if they are not a Vocal member. I also dream of doing this for a living someday, so pledges and tips help me get closer to that goal as well.

You can also become a supporter on Patreon and get early and exclusive access to content before anyone else. Learn more.

If you want to read more about Lacey, who is a character in my upcoming novel, you can find another story about her, here. 👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽