You Must Be Rosie
I awkwardly tuck my hair behind my ear as people whom I don’t know or recognise offer me their condolences, and tell me how sorry they are for my loss. I just nod my head and politely thank them. I’m already finding it hard to keep my tears at bay, and hearing strangers constantly tell me how they knew my brother, Ethan, while pointing out what an incredible guy he was, only makes the large lump in my throat grow bigger.
I quickly make my way over to the empty pew at the front of the chapel, while at the same time trying to ignore my aching heart at the thought of both of my parents not being here with me. I had hoped my dad would be well enough to be here, but instead he’s lying in a hospital bed, unresponsive and in a deep sleep due to the coma he’s been in for the past three months. And as for my mom, I haven’t seen her since she walked out on me and my brother when we were just kids. My dad had refused to talk about her after the heated argument they had had the night she had left, and I know very little about her. What I do know about her is what my brother had told me, as he was seven years older than me, and had known her for far longer than I had. But it’s very little. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I wanted to tell her about Ethan’s funeral, but I had no way of contacting her.
I manage to force back my tears as I go to take my seat in the empty pew, only the pew isn’t empty like I had expected. Someone whom I don’t know is already sitting in it. He’s staring at the coffin, while fiddling with the programme in his hand, and he looks to be far older than Ethan.
I throw a scowl in his direction. Only my brother’s immediate family are allowed to sit in the front pew. I may be the only member of our family here, but I was all prepared to sit at the front of the chapel all on my own, even if the thought of sitting on my lonesome did seem a little embarrassing at first. This guy has no right to be sitting here, and I want him to know this.
After clumsily straightening the skirt of my dress, I make my way along the pew to where he’s sitting, and see that he’s still staring at the coffin.
‘Um, excuse me. . . but this pew is reserved for my brother’s immediate family,’ I tell him sharply, even though I keep my voice low, remembering that we are in a chapel.
The guy draws his attention away from the coffin just long enough to look up at me, and I feel my breath catch in my throat when his piercing green eyes meet mine. Shit! He’s gorgeous. He’s tall and broad shouldered, with an incredibly rugged face, and though the suit which he’s wearing seems cheap, it fits his toned body perfectly. Ugh, why does he have to be so hot?
I see his eyes move from my cleavage to my legs. He’s unabashedly checking me out, and even though this really doesn’t seem like the right place to do something so bold, I feel a faint blush stain my cheeks.
‘You must be Rosie,’ he says in a deep voice, and his strong Texan accent makes my stomach flutter. ‘Ethan told me a lot about you.’
I blink at him. ‘You knew my brother?’
‘Probably just as well as you,’ he replies. ‘I was in the air force with him.’
My eyes widen in amazement. ‘You’re Max?’ I question in disbelief.
‘The one and only,’ he says with a cocky smirk. Damn! That sexy smirk can make any girl go weak at the knees. ‘So, I think I have every right to sit here, don’t ya?’ His voice has taken on a commanding tone, and I bite my bottom lip at the slight shiver it sends up my spine. Ugh, he’s the whole package.
‘Well. . . I guess,’ I mutter, before I sit down on the uncomfortable wooden seat, while making sure there’s a small empty gap between us.
Ethan had only ever told me a few stories about him and Max, mainly from when they were both together in the air force, which was where they had first met. But I do remember him telling me that they were brothers in arms, and that Max had been like a mentor to him when he had first joined. Being ten years older than him, Max had already been flying for countless years, and he had apparently taught Ethan everything he knew.
I suddenly feel a little abashed for snapping at him. He has every right to sit here with me, especially as he had made the effort to come here to pay his respects, no doubt after seeing my social media post about the funeral. I had thought it would be a good idea to post the date, place and time online just so Ethan’s other friends whom I don’t know could attend the service too, and I’m pleased to see that the chapel is full of people. But at the same time I wish it wasn’t so full. I’ve never been good at speaking in front of a crowd, and butterflies fill my stomach as I think of reading my eulogy out loud in front of everyone.
I glance down at the creased sheet of lined paper which sits open in my lap, just as the service starts. I pray that I can get through it without breaking down into tears in front of such a large congregation. I know it’s expected of me, and no one would think any differently of me if I did, but I would still feel embarrassed. And I really don’t like embarrassing myself in front of so many people.
Though I try to keep my eyes focused on the service, I find myself stealing glances at the imposing figure who’s sitting next to me and staring at the coffin, while still playing with the programme in his hands. No matter how hard I try I just can’t take my eyes off him. Ethan may have told me a few stories about him, but I didn’t expect him to be so fucking gorgeous. I’ve always had a thing for older men, and him being seventeen years older than me only makes my attraction to him even stronger.
I’m pleased I’m the first one to speak during the service, as it means I don’t have to sit and worry about my emotions getting the better of me the moment I start to read my eulogy out loud. As I talk in a slightly hoarse voice about how kind, strong and loving Ethan was, I force myself not to glance at his coffin, which sits just to the side of me. I’ve already shed several tears upon seeing it. It had made me realise that all of this is real, and that he really was killed while on active service. It hadn’t seemed possible when I had been told the news. I hadn’t believed it. There was no way my brother could be dead.
But realisation had slowly snuck in during all the funeral planning, and last night I had broken down into tears in my bedroom, when it had finally hit me that I will never see him again.
My voice breaks on a few of the words, as my attention is being constantly diverted to the coffin, until Max catches my gaze, and as I look at him sitting in the front pew, I see him give me a firm nod. It’s as if he’s willing me to carry on speaking, and is trying to give me the strength I need to get through my hand written eulogy.
So, I force myself to keep my gaze focused on him, rather than look out at the large crowd of mourners in front of me, and when I reach the end I see him give me a reassuring smile, as I gingerly make my way back down the steps on unsteady legs. It couldn’t be any more different to the smirk I had seen earlier, and when I sit back down next to him he leans in to whisper into my ear.
‘You did really well. Ethan would be proud,’ he tells me. Though I try to listen to his words, his soft breath on my skin is distracting, and when he gently starts to caress my bare knee, I find I have to squeeze my thighs tightly together, just to stop my sex from throbbing so hard.
As the service comes to an end, and the coffin slowly disappears into the chamber where it’s going to be burned, I idly reach up to touch Ethan’s dog tags, which I’ve been wearing around my neck for the past month and a half, and in a choked voice I say a quiet goodbye to him.
‘You were a great man, Ethan,’ I hear Max suddenly muse quietly, as he watches the coffin disappear. ‘And one hell of a pilot. It was an honour to fly with ya, brother.’ I see him do a quick and awkward salute just as the coffin disappears, before he catches me watching him, and though he tries to be inconspicuous I see him quickly wipe away a few tears.
‘It’s all right to cry,’ I tell him gently as I wipe a few of my own tears away, while the congregation start to leave.
‘I never cry,’ he tells me firmly.
‘Really? Because I’m sure I saw you shed a few tears during the service.’
‘It’s just allergies,’ he mutters as we both stand up. ‘There’s a lot of pollen outside. . .’
I give him a pointed look, only for him to frown at me.
‘I’m serious,’ he says sharply. ‘It’s just allergies.’
‘All right,’ I say in defeat, before I notice that the chapel has almost emptied, and the sudden silence is rather jarring. Only Max and I are left, and as the classical piece of music which I had chosen for the end of the service fades out, I suddenly can’t hold back my emotions anymore and I start to cry.
Shit! I had promised myself that I wouldn’t embarrass myself like this. I had told myself that I had to put on a brave face for my brother, despite the pain in my heart. But it’s too painful to ignore as I realise that I’m now all alone in the world.
I feel my knees start to give way as my emotions start to consume me, but before I can fall onto the hard ground I feel a pair of strong arms catch me, and I realize Max is holding my trembling body in his arms as I cry into his chest. He doesn’t say a word as my hoarse cries echo slightly in the empty chapel, but he does gently rub my back, and he doesn’t stop until my sobs have finally subsided.
When I pull back from him, and swipe at my wet cheeks, I see him glance down at his grey shirt which is stained a little with my tears.
’I’m sorry I mutter when I see his unimpressed face.
‘It’s fine,’ he says bluntly. ‘It’s a cheap shirt anyway.’
After straightening my dress once again, which is far too tight on me, I ask him if he’s going to the bar for the wake.
‘Of course,’ he replies. ‘I’m expected to read out a eulogy of my own.’
‘Then shall we go together?’ I suggest.
‘Seems like the best idea,’ he agrees in that same blunt tone.
There’s only a few close friends of Ethan’s at the wake, as I remember him once telling me that he had wanted it to be as intimate as possible, and they each take it in turns to say a few words about him.
As I gingerly sip from my glass of wine, and listen to them talk about what an incredible guy he was, and how he was always there to help them out when they needed it, I ignore the large lump which is steadily forming in my throat. I had no idea my brother meant so much to so many people, and when Max takes his place by the large photograph of Ethan, and starts to talk about their shared life in the air force, and how he was like a brother to him, I see he’s focusing his gaze on me, rather than on the others. He’s reading from a small slip of paper, and as he nears the end of his eulogy, I notice his hands are starting to shake a little, though his face remains cold and impassive, until he raises his glass to Ethan’s photograph. As he bids him a final farewell, and everyone follows suit with their own glasses, I notice his eyes are glistening, and he downs the whiskey in one go before he quickly disappears out the back.
