Crisis part 2
682 Words
Heather's pov
The cool night air seemed to carry my mom’s words straight into my chest, each one weighing heavier than the last. I held the phone tighter, my pulse quickening.
“What do you mean you can’t come to my wedding? Is this some kind of prank? Did Veronica put you up to this?” I asked, panic rising as my voice echoed in the street.
“Wait, Heather, let me explain,” my mom replied gently, her calm voice momentarily grounding me.
“Do you remember your Aunt Beatrice from the neighboring village?” she asked.
“Yes, Mom,” I replied, my tone barely holding patience. “What about her?”
“Well, honey, she passed away. Her family has decided to hold the funeral on the same day as your wedding,” she said softly, her words falling like a cold weight on my chest.
My heart sank. “What? Was she sick?” I managed to ask, the words catching in my throat.
“We’re not sure. Her husband hasn’t given many details, but there’s talk... it may have been a domestic case,” she said, the weight of her words filling the night air. “That’s why he wants to bury her so quickly.”
“Oh, God. I—should I cancel the wedding, then? I can change the date. I’d like to be there, too, maybe I could...”
“No, no, Heather!” she interrupted, and for a brief second, she slipped into her affectionate, barely-there Italian accent. “Mamma mia, what are you saying?”
I nearly laughed, a small smile surfacing despite the ache. My mother had always adored Italy; it was like a little piece of her slipped into character whenever she was emotional.
“Heather, this is your wedding. It’s a day you’ve dreamed about for years. We’re not going to take that from you,” she continued, her voice gentler now. “Your father will lead Aunt Beatrice’s funeral, and most of the neighbors will be there to support her family. Your siblings will be needed to take care of the farm.”
“Heather,” she said softly, but firmly. “I know how important this day is to you. And, honey, it would break my heart if you let go of your dreams because of this. Trust Jonathan’s family. They’ll be there for you, as will he.”
“But, Mom, that’s... I mean, how can I get married knowing you won’t be there?” I paused, my breath was coming faster now, and the cold night seemed to close in, the air too thin. “And I—” My hands shook, and I could feel the warning signs of panic clawing up my chest.
“Heather!” Sally’s voice broke through as she grabbed my bag, searching frantically for my inhaler.
M mom having heard the commotion said,
“Take deep breaths with me,” her voice breaking on the other end of the call. “In... out...”
I closed my eyes, breathing with her. The girls surrounded me, each trying to reassure me in their own way as I tried to steady myself.
“It will be alright, Heather. This is still your day, your dream. Don’t let it change. We’ll be with you in spirit, and we’ll celebrate when we can,” she said, her voice cracking in the way that always got to me.
“Okay, Mom,” I whispered, my voice steadying. “But are you sure?”
“Yes. Don’t change anything, honey. Just promise me you’ll have a beautiful day,” she replied, the resolve in her voice both comforting and bittersweet.
“Alright,” I whispered, forcing the tears down. “Please send my condolences to the family, and... I’ll be okay.”
“I love you, my Heather,” she said softly, her words lingering even after the call ended.
I stood in the chilly night air, the warmth of my friends surrounding me, as the reality of their absence settled heavily in my heart.
- Writer
