Fallen Elements (3 page)

By contrast, Derek Howland was an inch short
of six feet tall, and his hair - like his son’s - was dark and
thinning. Ryan had always thought it odd that in spite of the fact
the man ran five miles a day, he was a bit on the heavy side. Karen
had always attributed her brother-in-law’s portliness to the man’s
affinity for dry martinis with practically every meal.

Lucy wrapped her arms around Ryan, and the
scent of Clive Christian No. 1 wafted over her. Ryan’s aunt had
worn the jasmine and vanilla scented perfume for as long as Ryan
could remember. It wasn’t until Ryan was living in Baltimore that
she came across a bottle of the fragrance while working a holiday
season at Neiman Marcus. Ryan had nearly passed out when she saw
the eight hundred and ninety five dollar price tag.

“How was your trip? Have you eaten? Did
Natalie get you settled?” Lucy gushed as she looked Ryan up and
down.

Ryan had mastered the art of allowing her
aunt no less than three consecutive questions before even
attempting a response. “The trip was fine. I haven’t eaten yet, but
I can grab something from the kitchen. Natalie was very
helpful.”

Lucy frowned. “I’m in shock. You must be -”
The woman took a deep breath and releasing Ryan, fanned her hand in
front of her face. “Oh, I told myself I wouldn’t cry until the
funeral.” Lucy turned and leaned on the front of her desk. “I can
cry when I’ve done right by my sister.”

“What happened, Aunt Lucy?” The call from
Carol, and the subsequent rush to leave Baltimore, had left many
questions unanswered for Ryan. This one was the most pertinent.

Lucy tilted her head back and took a deep
breath. “She fell. She was getting into the bath, slipped, and –
that was it.” She squeezed Ryan’s upper arms, and then took a step
back, leaning on the edge of her desk.

Derek, who had been sitting on a brown,
leather camelback sofa perpendicular to Lucy’s desk, stood up, his
signature martini glass in hand. “I’m sorry about your mother. She
and I didn’t always get on, but I liked her.”

Ryan nodded, knowing that was about as much
as Derek was capable of. She wondered if his apathy was a result of
his alcoholism, or if he had become an alcoholic out of apathy.
Chicken or the egg?
Ryan thought.

“So she drowned?” Ryan didn’t want to be
morbid, but in spite of their falling out, how the woman who raised
her died seemed to warrant more detail than simply
she
fell
.

Lucy walked back around her desk and sat
down. “Yes. She slipped getting into the bath, struck her head, and
then drowned while unconscious.” Before Ryan could respond, Lucy
continued. “I’ve asked Carol to help you with something to wear.
There will be a viewing tomorrow night, and the services are
scheduled for Wednesday.” Lucy turned and began thumbing through
her appointment calendar. “I’ve ordered flowers from the family,
and took the liberty of ordering an arrangement from you.”

Ryan felt tears welling up. Her chest
suddenly felt very tight, and the air in the library seemed thick.
The idea of her mother drowning to death in two feet of bath water
brought bile to the back of Ryan’s throat. She wanted to be annoyed
with Lucy over the attention she was paying to mundane details, but
Ryan couldn’t muster the energy.

Lucy had always taken liberties with people
under the guise of being helpful. Lucy seemed to be perpetually
under-estimating people’s abilities to act on their own and in a
manner up to her standards.

“Thank you for the flowers. I’ve brought my
own clothes.” In the end, Ryan didn’t see the point of arguing. She
was tired, and after the next few days wouldn’t see any more of her
aunt than she had over the past six years.

Lucy put her hand on her hip, the platinum
and diamond Cartier tennis bracelet dangling from her wrist. “I’m
sure what you brought is fine, but fashions can vary. Particularly
between New York and Baltimore.”

Lucy had always considered Ryan’s decision to
move to Baltimore one of her more serious infractions. The city was
founded by the working class, and had been built up through the
hard work of factory laborers over the generations.

Ryan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’ll give Carol final veto on the clothes. Is that fair?”

Lucy pursed her lips. “Okay.”

Ryan nodded. “I’m tired, and am going to take
a nap before dinner.”

“Six o’clock sharp.” Lucy smiled.

“Always.” Ryan turned and left the room. She
was already exhausted and she hadn’t even gotten to the
funeral.

“Was she everything you remembered?” Carol
was going up the stairs as Ryan descended.

“Picture of perfection.” Ryan teased.

Carol laughed. “And Dad?”

Ryan made a gesture as if she were swirling a
glass and drinking from it.

Carol tisked. “The question is never
if
my father is drinking, but how many.”

Ryan squeezed Carol’s hand and quickly
released it. “I’m going to lie down. Do you want to get a drink or
something after dinner?”

Carol nodded, a broad smile on her lips.
“After the past few days, I’m willing to give my father a run for
his money.”

Ryan laughed as she made her way back to her
room. Shutting the door behind her, she unlaced her boots, and
kicked them to the side of the nightstand. Pulling the comforter
back, she slid into the warm bed.

Ryan knew all families were inherently messy.
People brought their own baggage into the mix, and managed to
create new pitfalls and traumas along the way. She wondered if her
family was unique in how they seemed to revel in the disasters.

Chapter 2

Ryan stood next to the black Cadillac XTS
limousine with her hands buried deep in the pockets of her navy pea
coat. The chill in the air cut through the thin fabric of her black
boot cut slacks, and she was grateful for her coat as the thin
gray, V-neck sweater she wore under it offered very little
warmth.

She watched the stream of mourners wind their
way through the headstones that peppered the Trinity Church
Cemetery as they made their way to her mother’s gravesite. The
cemetery had been established in the mid eighteen hundreds as the
result of overcrowding in the original Trinity Church’s churchyard
cemetery.

Though sparse from the last pangs of winter,
the gently rolling hills and maple trees that peppered the cemetery
offered a stark contrast to the concrete and steel of the city that
surrounded the cemetery. Ryan thought if it weren’t for the
headstones and mausoleums she might imagine she was in a lovely
park.

Ryan stared at one of the nearby gray brick
and concrete mausoleums. Her eyes felt heavy and dry from a fitful
night of sleep. The name
Astor
came into focus, the word
carved into the stone in large block letters.

Ryan told herself she needed to walk, but her
feet seemed unwilling to move her forward. Lucy had already
chastised her when Ryan had asked for a few minutes before taking
her seat with the rest of the family. Carol had managed to distract
her mother, and spare Ryan the irritation, by complimenting Lucy on
the beautiful floral arrangements that had adorned the church
during services.

“It’s what Karen would have wanted. She
simply adored flowers.” Lucy had wiped at an invisible tear with
the pressed silk handkerchief she had been carrying with her all
morning.

Carol nodded, and looking up at Ryan,
smirked. Both women knew Karen’s affinity for nature, and how
active she had been throughout her life with local botanical
groups. Carol and Ryan also knew the last thing Karen would have
wanted was countless flowers and vines, in essence, killed for her
sake.

“It’s all so lovely, Mother.” Carol placed
her hand on the small of her mother’s back, and guided the woman
toward the cemetery.

“I’ll wait with you.” Ryan hadn’t realized
Andrew was standing next to her. His nose was red from the
cold.

“It’s okay. I just need a minute on my own.”
Ryan forced gratitude into her voice, but the truth was she loathed
her cousin, and his attentions were, especially today,
unbearable.

Shrugging, Andrew began walking after his
sister and mother. “Suit yourself.”

Now, Ryan wasn’t sure she could move at all.
Though the air felt thin with the cold, an unimaginable weight was
pushing down on her, and she thought she might break. Her mother
was dead. People had stood up and attested to it for the past hour
in front of God and some of the wealthiest people in New York.
Individuals Ryan didn’t know talked about how wonderful her mother
had been, and how selflessly she had given of her time and
resources.

Ryan had been shocked at how angry the scene
had made her. She imagined she had inadvertently wandered into a
stranger’s funeral. She didn’t know the person they were talking
about. Her mother had been cynical and judgmental. Her mother had
been selfish, and tried for years to shape Ryan into her own image,
with no consideration or compassion for the person her daughter was
or wanted to be.

Ryan tilted her head up. The sky was partly
cloudy and it smelled like it might rain. Standing next to the car,
she couldn’t remember when she had started crying. She wiped at her
face with the back of her gloved hand, the rough leather texture
scratching at her cheeks.

“Would you like a tissue, miss?” The middle
aged limousine driver was standing next to Ryan, a pastel colored
box of tissue held out in front of him. “There’s water in the car
if you would like.”

Ryan pulled a tissue from the box and wiped
her nose. “No, thank you.” She managed a weak smile at the kind man
before taking a tentative step forward.

“It’s done so quickly.” The man said
casually.

Turning her head, Ryan looked at the driver.
“The day has been a whirlwind.”

The man grinned. “No, miss. Life. Life is
done so quickly.” Shaking his head, the driver turned and walked
back around the car.

Ryan felt an odd calm wash over her as she
crumpled the tissue and put it in her pocket. She would be through
this in relative seconds, compared to the entirety of her life. She
would feel hollow, stripped and inside out, but then she wouldn’t.
She would resign herself to having only known a portion of her
mother, a small spot in what was certainly an expansive woman.

As she walked down the slight hill toward
where her mother was to spend the rest of eternity, Ryan was able
to let go of her anger from earlier. Regardless of her mother’s
failings, she had many successes too. Her mother was riddled with
contradictions, but Ryan couldn’t think of anyone that wasn’t.

“You okay?” Carol took Ryan’s hand as she sat
down in one of the narrow wooden chairs that lined the opening to
her mother’s grave.

Squeezing Carol’s hand, Ryan was grateful for
her cousin, her friend. “I’m good.”

Glancing around Carol, Ryan saw Lucy, head
lowered, real tears having finally found her. “Aunt Lucy.” The
woman was startled as Ryan reached for her hand. “Thank you for
doing this. Mom would be thrilled.”

Lucy smiled. In spite of the crying, her
make-up was perfect as she dabbed at her wet cheeks. “Thank
you.”

“Friends and family, as we gather to pay our
respects…” The pastor’s voice faded into the background as Ryan’s
eyes scanned the large crowd. She and her mother hadn’t spoken for
over six years, and with the exception of a few distant cousins,
Ryan didn’t recognize any of the mourners.

Her eyes stopped, and it was several seconds
before Ryan was able to process who she was seeing. Standing near
the back of the crowd, her face partially obscured by the collar of
a black Chesterfield coat, was the woman from the train.

Ryan’s mind raced as she recalled their brief
exchange. The woman had said she was coming to New York to visit a
friend. Apparently the friend was actually Ryan’s mother. The
coincidence made her head spin.

“What’s wrong?” Carol had taken notice of
Ryan tightening her grip around her hand, and her cousin’s focused
gaze across the sea of mourners.

Leaning in, Ryan whispered in Carol’s ear.
“The blonde woman, with her coat collar popped. Over there.” She
struggled not to point. “Here name is Leah. Do you know her?”

Carol’s eyes scanned the crowd. “I don’t know
her, but I don’t know half the people here.”

Ryan leaned back in the chair, and couldn’t
take her eyes off of Leah. After several minutes, Leah’s eyes found
Ryan, and a look of recognition, quickly followed by shock, flashed
across the blonde’s face.

Ryan managed a polite smile, and fought the
temptation to get up and walk over to Leah. She wanted to know how
she knew her mother, and was she as amazed at the coincidence as
Ryan was. Mostly though, Ryan was happy to have another chance to
talk to the woman, and maybe get to know her.

You can’t seriously be thinking about
picking a practical stranger up at your mother’s funeral?
Ryan
chastised herself, a blush shooting up her neck.

Twenty minutes later, Ryan fought her way
through a sea of people, each intent on offering their condolences,
toward Leah. The blonde was halfway back to the cemetery’s service
road when Ryan caught up to her.

“Leah. Hey, Leah.” Ryan was trying not to
yell at the woman, but subtlety wasn’t working. “Leah!”

The blonde stopped, and after a second,
turned to face Ryan. “Ryan.”

“Yeah, hi.” Ryan couldn’t help but smile,
relieved the woman remembered her name. “Why are you here?”

Leah looked over Ryan’s shoulder at the
disbanding group of mourners. “Karen’s funeral.” Leah looked at
Ryan, her eyes narrowing. “Are you family?”

Ryan nodded. “Her daughter.”

Leah gasped, and then quickly covered her
mouth as she took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she had a
daughter.”