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“Why isn’t Mommy moving?” Maven tugs on my sleeve, “Is she asleep?”
I look down at my little brother, his eyes wide and blue and curious. He’s only 4, he’s far too young to understand.
“Yeah,” I look down at the casket. Elara was always pale, but she’s a different kind of pale now. What was once the looks of a woman far too busy for sunning is now the look of death, any color that had once filled her cheeks are gone.
Not that I think Elara Merandus has ever blushed once in her life. That woman was stone cold since the very first time I saw her. She probably faced her impending doom with an annoyed sigh.
“Something like that.”
People say that the dead look peaceful, like they are sleeping, but Elara was never a peaceful person. Not in life, and certainly not in death, she looks like she’s waiting for something, the clock is ticking, and she’s always ready to strike. Looking at her, I have to physically resist the urge to rip Maven from her side in fear she will claw out and steal him at any moment.
“Mommy,” Maven leans over the casket and grabs at her dark blue dress, trying to shake her awake with all his might. “Mommy, there are people here; you gotta wake up.” Elara doesn’t even rock in her casket, a testament to Maven’s tiny child arms.
Anabel’s heels click as she comes to my side, “Disgraceful,” she snaps, as if Maven has personally offended her by caring about his mother, “Doesn’t he know he’s making a scene?”
I look around the room, the blonde haired blue eyed Merandus’ linger around, looking at Maven with an odd mix of disdain, sympathy, and boredom.
I hated the woman, Elara was never kind to me and held nothing but distaste towards my mother and I, but seeing Maven try so hard for a woman long dead makes me want to weep. I don’t understand how every single one of them has dry eyes.
My eyes blur as I force myself to pull him away. Anabel is right, we have to keep it together in front of everyone.
“Say goodbye to Mommy,” I whisper down at him, ready to push him along to the next casket, Father’s casket. He looks up, just a spot of recognition in his eyes, and I think he knows, he knows his mother isn’t coming back.
“Where is she going?”
I bite my lip and hold back the deep urge I have to say hell. “A better place,” I whisper to him, and he looks at me, confused.
‘Millionaires Elara Merandus and Tiberias Calore killed by drunk driver.’
I sigh down at my phone, it’s all everyone is talking about. People calling every day, relatives I’ve never even talked to claiming to care so much. Some even have the nerve to ask about Maven, about who he is going to stay with.
Well, who he and his inheritance is going to stay with.
I don’t want to hand Maven off to someone who only wants him because he’s a good investment. I love my brother and I want what’s best for him, I just… haven’t figured out what that is yet.
I want to take care of him, I love him dearly and would certainly like to be there for him whenever he needs me. But I’m not sure I’m going to be good enough at it, I’ve never raised a child before and I’m so busy with Father’s company I worry I won’t be there when he needs me. He might be better off with Samson or one of Elara’s other relatives who would take him.
Maven sits on the porch, looking down at the concrete as a lone black ant crawls around in the triangle he created out of his hands. He watches it attempt to find an escape without crawling over him.
“Tracy,” Maven announces in victory, holding the tiny insect in his palm. He shines a bright smile at me, his front tooth is missing, knocked out from tripping face first into a doorknob less than a few weeks ago.
“Tracy?” I ask, setting my phone aside to give him my full attention, he shifts around on the concrete.
“Tracy,” Maven confirms and wobbles as he stands up, “Her name is Tracy.”
Maven waddles over to me holding out his palm so I get a good look at the ant. Tracy runs around on his palm.
“Be careful with her,” I remind him as he flexes his fingers gently around her, “You don’t want to crush her.”
“Don’t crush,” Maven repeats to me, staring at the ant intently, mesmerized by the tiny creature.
‘Tracy’ scuttles off of Maven’s hand and up his arm. His eyes widen in horror as the ant climbs up to his shoulder.
“Cal!” He shrieks, shaking his arm wildly, “It’s attacking me!” Soon mavey realizes that flailing does him no favors and stills himself.
I flick the ant off his arm with a slight chuckle, “Look,” I pat his arm softly, “It’s gone now, don’t worry.”
He looks down at his antless arm and up at me before he comes barreling into my arms.
“Thank you!” His voice crescendos as he buries his face into my shirt.
I don’t know what in the world I was thinking. I could never let go of him.
“Tomato souppppppp!” Maven screeches at the top of his lungs.
“I made macaroni!” I gesture in exhaustion at the steaming bowl of kraft mac and cheese I set out for him.
Maven woke me up an hour ago because he had a nightmare, he was shaking and crying. I offered to let him lay next to me; that way I could protect him from his nightmares but he said he was hungry so I made some macaroni.
Apparently Macaroni was not the correct answer.
But I don’t know how to cook, I never had to before so tomato soup is still out of my skill range. It’s 2 am, I’m not about to try and learn at 2 am.
“I want tomato!” Maven stomps his tiny foot, throwing a full-blown temper tantrum. His face flaming red in anger.
“I don’t know how to make that,” I growl at him. I know I should keep my temper in check; Elara would have never yelled at her son, but it’s just so frustrating! Why is he being so irrational?
“Mommy always made tomato soup after a nightmare!” Tears roll down Maven’s face. The words make me stop, my frustration bleeds away.
“Mavey,” I kneel down to him and he looks at me with those sad blue eyes of his, glimmering with tears.
“Where’s Mommy?” He whimpers, his voice quivers and he hiccups, “When is she coming back?”
“She’s dead Mavey,” I pet his hair softly, “She can’t come back.”
Maven’s collapses onto the ground sobbing so hard it racks through his body.
“Why-” He tries to choke out but his words are mostly drowned by the tears, “Why did she leave me behind?”
I shush him and continue petting his hair, gently carding my fingers through his curls.
I was older than he was when my mother died, I understood what was happening and what it all meant. Maven doesn’t, he didn’t get that childhood. He lost his father and mother in one go.
At some point Maven drifts off to a deep sleep, exhausted by all those emotions and tears. I carry him back to his bed and resolve to learn to make tomato soup.
Or at least to buy the cans of it at the store.
“Well hello there little man,” Walsh kneels down to look Maven in the eye. Maven shyly clings to my pants, peaking at her around the dark fabric, “My name is Ms. Walsh, what’s yours?”
“Maven,” he whispers, almost inaudible. Maven never did fantastic around strangers, he isn’t the social butterfly I was as a child, but he’s been doing better with it. Allowing other kids to swing next to him on the playground instead of huffing off when they so much as approach the swings.
So, I think I’m doing a good job at parenting.
“Maven,” she smiles brightly at him, extending her hand to shake his. He glares at it suspiciously before deeming that she is fine and allows her to take his hand, “I like your name.”
“Mommy picked it,” he asserts, and whips his head to hide the flush of his cheeks.
Cute.
“She has good tastes,” Walsh looks up towards me before standing to face me, “I assume you’re his guardian?”
“Older brother,” I laugh awkwardly, patting Maven’s head as he huffs.
“Fantastic,” She claps her hands together, “I need you to sign some paperwork and then you’re all free to go.”
I take the papers from her as she turns back to Mavey, “Maven, do you want to play with the other kids while you big brother here does all the boring stuff?”
“No.” Maven snaps shortly before clinging harder to my leg.
Walsh blinks at the sudden mood change, I chuckle.
“Mavey doesn’t want me to leave,” I explain to her, “You said go, and he hates it when people leave.”
Walsh nods with a smile, “Most kids like that start screaming when their parents even suggest leaving,” she smiles back at Maven, who’s attention is across the rooms somewhere, “So him being standoffish is honestly quite the relief.”
I turn my attention back to the paperwork with a smile and Walsh is called by a crying child across the room.
“Pretty,” Maven mutters and I look over at him, still looking on the other side of the room. I follow his gaze to see a woman awkwardly standing between two fighting children.
I smile, of course Maven thinks she’s pretty, she has purple-tipped hair, his favorite color.
And well, she is pretty.
When I return later that evening to pick Maven up, Walsh is nowhere to be seen, it’s only the purple-haired woman.
“Hello,” I smile at her and she blinks at me bored, “I’m here to pick up Maven.”
“Psh,” she leans against the desk, there’s purple paint smeared under her eyes brown eyes, “Good luck with that.”
She flicks her head towards Maven, who’s sitting on the ground staring intently at a chattering boy.
“He’s been attached to Thomas’ side all day,” she sighs, handing me a clipboard.
“At least he’s making friends,” I say, signing Maven out.
“Mavey!” I call, his head pops up, and he looks at me with bright blue eyes, “ready to head home?”
He nods, turning and standing, wobbling a bit. Thomas rises with him, continuing to chatter away while gesturing his hands wildly.
The pair make their way over to me, Maven quietly smiling.
Thank god he made a friend.
“I’m Cal,” I turn back to the woman who was still leaning against the desk, “I’m Maven’s older brother.”
“So I’ve heard,” She fiddles with a pencil, “I’m Mare, I’m one of the new teachers.”
“And then BOOOM the monster? Dead. Dead Monster!” Chattered Maven’s new friend.
“Wow,” Maven whispers back. He looks up at me and flushes with a small, timid smile.
“You got everything?” I ask him, and he nods.
I turn back to Mare, “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Sure hope so,” she gives me a tiny smile.
I look down at Maven, who is being pulled into a tight hug. Thomas lifts Maven off the ground and twirls a bit.
“Bye-bye, friend!” He basically screams after setting Maven down.
Maven frowns, annoyed by the loud noise and is about to say something before he is cut off by Thomas grabbing his face and smooshing their faces together, “Mwah!”
“Thomas!” Walsh runs over, I snort a chuckle and watch Maven turn beat red, “What are you doing?”
“Saying goodbye,” Thomas whips his head around at all of us as Maven sinks to the floor in embarrassment, “Mama and Papa always kiss goodbye!”