“J-James’s death.” replied Gloria with some hesitation, mixed with a deep sigh. Upon hearing this, Emily immediately wrapped her hands around the hands of Gloria and gave a tight squeeze. A rush of immense love traveled up and down and all over the spine of Gloria. It send shivers inside and out of her body, yes, this was the love of James. There was such an abundance, all at once, her empty heart was being filled with compassion.
“Oh, mom.” answered Emily now, embracing Gloria tenderly. Secretly, Emily had been trying to forget about her dad, since the moment she knew he was dead. Gloria knew this for a fact, she could read it right off of Emily's eyes. Frequently, Gloria could sense when Emily would recall and reminisces about James, little snapshots appearing from long ago. Gloria, often wondered how Emily felt when she first realized, that all those precious moments would stay frozen in time forever. How did she feel to be forced to accept the cold truth that he was long gone? Did Emily just wanted rid herself of that overbearing feeling? Why? Gloria, couldn’t fathom such an outrageous notion; why on earth would Emilly want to forget? Gloria refused to forget James, she was safekeeping everything about him, every single detail, she wouldn’t let any of his belongings erode with dust.
Every way Emily looked, she saw another object symbolizing the past, giving way for more memories, Gloria knew this, but dared not neglect anything that once belonged to James. Gloria still kept his office exactly the same way he left it, she would regularly dust it and vacuum it. It as if the entire house was trapped in the past! Emily had tried to tell Gloria how she felt about the car accident, about Abigail, about the house, but all of her attempts and efforts fell short. Why couldn’t Gloria let go? Why can’t she just move on?
However the instant, Emily embraced her mom, Gloria knew that she finally understood why she never stopped the tradition, never stopped giving care to all the little nick nacks that were once his property, it was her way of keeping him alive. It was her way of keeping the family knit together and deep down inside, Gloria knew that Emily wanted to keep holding on as well, at least just for a little longer.
“Okay,” answered Emily with a long sigh, “Tomorrow, we’ll sign up together...” Gloria was glad when she heard those words flowing through her eardrums.
“Thank you, Emily. I love you.” said Gloria in a hushed voice, but loud enough for Emily to hear it. They embraced each other one more time and proceeded to stroll down the little dirt path. Gloria and Emily walked hand in hand. It was abundantly clear, that their bond was grounded with love and intimacy. A kind of union that would be forever cherished. Gloria felt so peaceful, so secure, but there was a voice calling out to her, in the back of her mind, “Gloria, what are you doing?”
Something wasn’t right. Emily’s hand began to blur and fade away. Gloria looked down and saw that the orchids were dying. All around her, the garden was deteriorating and the voice was echoing louder and louder, “Gloria, what are you doing? Come here.”
What was happening? Gloria was returning to current events, to the present. The flashback was coming to a close. Her daydreaming was fading away so rapidly, all at once, Gloria, heard the once faint whisper, turn into a clanging cymbal, yanking her back to reality.
“Gloria, are you okay? Come on, get up,” it was the voice of Abigail, but it was not as lively as it was four weeks ago. Her voice sounded drained, but it was also as if, she was trying to hide her exhaustion. Gloria, slowly came to her feet, her face was glassy and her eyes were distant, it would seem that Gloria was taciturn, she had been this way ever since the beginning of the investigation. Abigail knew she had to do something to make Gloria better.
“Gloria, there’s someone here, who wants to talk to you, he wants to help you,” said Abigail, softly leading her back inside the household.
“Who is it?” asked Gloria in an extra hushed voice.
“His name is Dr. Weber, he can help you get better,” Gloria did not answer back, all she did was nod. Once they entered the house, Abigail took Gloria to the living room, where Dr. Weber was located. He was wearing a brown suit with elbow paddings. He was holding a black notebook and fountain pen with marble patterns.
“Hello, Miss Gloria how are we today?” he asked rising to his feet, extending his hand for the traditional handshake. Gloria did not reach out her hand, she didn’t even look at him, all she did was nod, with an expressionless face.
“Yes, well,” he replied putting his hand down, “If you would be good enough to sit, anywhere is fine, I’ll just be a moment with your daughter, in the kitchen.” Gloria sat down, in a rather slow fashion. Abigail led Dr. Weber to the kitchen.
“What is it doctor?” she asked a little tuckered out.
“How long has she been acting like this?”
“She has been improving, I mean compared to what she was like the first week,” answered Abigail trying to contain a yawn, which she was unable. Dr. Weber nodded his head in agreement most likely, “And what about you? How do you feel today?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You look exhausted,” said Dr. Weber very blunt.
“I am trying to solve the murder of Emily, keep good grades, help Gloria and-”
“And you are wearing yourself down, working to the bone,” interrupted Dr. Weber.
“Hey,” answered Abigail slightly annoyed, “I’m doing what I can for Gloria.”
“You don’t refer to her as your mother? Why is that?” questioned Dr. Weber, who was now opening his black notebook, jotting down notes. The nerve! Abigail’s tiredness was being replaced with anger. She didn’t like where this conversation was going.
“I’m not the one you should be asking questions to. I don’t need help, Gloria needs help,” Abigail was trying to keep her voice down, but she was doing a poor job. Just when she was about to say something else to Dr. Weber, probably another complaint, she took a breath instead, “Look... everyone says, you’re the best at what you do. You’ve been successful for years.”
“Only because I earn the trust of my patients,” said the Dr. Weber with affirmation.
“I am not your patient, Gloria is. She rarely eats, she rarely drinks!,” Abigail was trying to contain herself as best she could.
“In order for me to fully help Miss Gloria, I will need to know both sides of the story. I cannot promise you full recovery, unless I have full cooperation from both parties,” explained Dr.Weber very professional like.
“At the moment, all you need to hear is Gloria’s side of the story,” scoffed Abigail, “She’s...been through hell.” Dr. Weber nodded his head, left the kitchen and proceeded to the living room. Abigail heaved a sigh of exhaustion mixed with frustration. What if Dr. Weber was right? She’s been working herself exceedingly, and for what? To solve a homicide case that can’t be solved? Abigail had thoroughly analysed several reports, her eyes were weary of looking at the same thing for hours on end. Repeatedly, she had studied crime scene photos, along with leading detectives, and found nothing of any importance. No fingerprints, all the DNA they had found proved profitless. By the end of the month, the spirits of all the officers in the case had deflated. What was left?
* * *
By the end of the fifth week, the police department gave up, Abigail protested loudly against this, but that didn’t stop the inevitable. All the reports, photos and medical files were put away, along with the other cold, unsolved mysteries. The police moved on to other more serious crimes, that needed their attention. The case was close, forcing Abigail to quit. That once intense urge to solve the murder of Emily had vanished. All those sleepless nights, seemed pointless now. Gloria was unaware of this, she didn’t know the case was closed. Ever since the murder, she had detached herself from reality. Her mind was seldom in the present, it was bent on the past. Gloria had been reliving past events with Emily, fond memories, when she had security, certainty, but most of all peace. She was clinging on to false hope, that the police would find the culprit and bring that bastard to justice.
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