After the Funeral

Regina finally escaped the crowd of friends, neighbors and people she didn't think she'd ever seen before and slipped out to the large porch that wrapped around the small clapboard home she shared with her grandparents.

'Just Pappy now, though,' she reminded herself sadly.

The rain was still coming down in a slow steady drizzle, wetting the whole world with its own tears. At least that's what Regina, in her odd state of mind thought in a flight of fancy. She sank down, slipping to a seat on the damp porch, clutching her knees to her chest and sighing heavily.

The windows to the house were open to allow the breeze to enter and cool the atmosphere that was currently being overheated by far too many bodies for the small space. Regina could hear snatches of conversation and, occasionally, bits of songs being played on her Gran's old spinet. Gran had had a gift for the instrument, coaxing the most lovely tunes from the old wooden instrument. Pappy had told Regina once that the spinet had been brought from England on a boat over 100 years earlier, but he was fond of telling tall tales and she didn't know if she should believe him or not.

"You possibly can't hope to raise her alone, John. It wouldn't be fair to either one of you."

"I know. I've made some inquiries, Maeve. Don't you worry about us. I know how to take care of my Regina."

From her seat outside, Regina knew she couldn't be seen. She breathed shallow breaths, hoping to hear more. She was 14, almost 15 and she didn't really need that much more raising. Gran had taught her so many things in the past two years. Why didn't Pappy think it wouldn't be fair. She could stay and take care of him. After all, she was a good cook -- even Pappy said so. And he could take care of the few horses and the livestock. They could both till the small garden and, with the help of neighbors and a few hired men, they could still make sure the hemp was harvested and processed.

"Don't wait too long, John," the insistent woman continued. "The girl will get false notions in her head and..." Maeve MacKenzie's voice fell so low that Regina couldn't hear what followed. But as soon as she heard her grandfather's roar, she knew it hadn't been complimentary. Regina sat frozen, waiting and listening.

"My granddaughter is not like your girls. She's got far too much sense in her head to go running after the first fair-haired lad who hands her a flower and a sweet word!" She heard Pappy drawing a deep breath and knew he was calming himself.

"And now, Maeve, I'll thank you to collect your things and leave. I need my privacy. After all," he said, "I just lost my wife." As if the woman was too stupid to remember the funeral and burial of just a few hours ago. And perhaps she was, Regina thought.