I See You

Chapter Fourteen

        What did one wear to plan a funeral?

        Emma stared into her closet with a frown. The medical examiner's office had called her almost an hour ago informing her that she could have her Grandfather moved to the funeral home of her choice. But for some strange reason she'd been stuck staring into the closet, unable to make a choice on what to wear.

        Why was this the point where her thoughts derailed?

        The scent of strong coffee filled her nose, causing her to turn and wrap her arms around her robe clad body. She glanced at the bedside clock and realized she was running a way behind. Of course it made sense she wasn't wanting to get the day going. Today was the day she had dreaded since that awful phone call more than a week ago. Today she would have to plan a funeral for her Gramps.

        Emma sniffled and crossed to drop onto her bed, then curled up hugging her knees.

        "Rise and shine Emma Boo," Cindy entered her room carrying a mug of coffee.

        Emma sat up and pushed her hair from her face. She tried to smile at her bestie. "You know if you keep bringing me coffee in the morning I'm going to get spoiled and expect it all the time," she teased, accepting the mug with a grateful sigh.

        "You're getting special treatment because today is going to be hard, but someday soon I'm expecting breakfast in bed," Cindy replied, scooting back against the headboard. "You okay?"

        Emma sighed and settled in next to Cindy. Her head tilted to lay against Cindy's shoulder. "Honestly?"

        "If possible, yes."

        Emma felt the tears well in her eyes. "No, I'm not okay." She sniffled and wiped the escaping tear. "I can't believe he's really gone, and today I have to plan a memorial for the man who raised me."

        Cindy made a soft sound of understanding and patted her knee. "I know sweetie, but you've got me," she offered. "I promise you will get through this."

        "You really think so?" Emma asked with a huge sigh. "I don't know. I mean I can't even pick out a dress. How stupid is that? It doesn't even matter what I'm wearing," Emma caught the shaking breath and fought to regain her composure. She absolutely knew Gramps wouldn't want her sitting around crying all the time. He'd tell her to dust herself off and stand up again.

        "Aw, Em, don't worry! I got you," Cindy lay her head on Emma's and they both stared at her open closet. "Even if you have a dress from high school in there I'm sure we can find something that you'll be comfortable in. Today is a work day girl. The funeral is the day to look especially nice."

        Emma snorted softly and shook her head. "Cindy sometimes I swear you are a blonde under all that brown hair," she teased.

        "I beg your pardon! My hair is not brown, it is chestnut, you heathen!"

        This comment actually made Emma giggle. "Sweetie, chestnut is brown!"

        "No, it isn't. Chestnut is definitely way different from the color of mud," Cindy said, implicitly denying the fact. "Chestnut is a soft golden shade of mocha with subtle hints of auburn mixed throughout."

        "Don't church it up Cin, it's brown," Emma snorted with laughter.

        "Oh yeah? Don't make me beat you up shortie!" Cindy set her coffee mug on the table and slung her arm around Emma in a mock headlock. Emma couldn't resist the giggle that filled her chest.