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A thin film of sweat coats Ed’s skin where a bundle of wildflowers lies cradled in his arms. He shuffles through the untrimmed grass towards the cemetery. It isn’t the anniversary of his mother’s death yet, but it’s soon, and Ed likes to go when he can anyways. Winry assured him earlier that she didn’t need him for the afternoon, so he kissed her head and went to forage along the edges of the wooden fence for flowers.
He kneels at the headstone, taking a moment to bask in the relief of giving his legs a rest, and gently lays his bouquet in front. It looks like Al went recently too, judging by the semi-wilted roses in front of the stone and bare patches of disturbed dirt where he had pulled the weeds. He straightens out all the flowers before saying, “Hey, mom.”
A warm breeze answers, gently running its fingers through his hair. Summer had always been his mother’s favorite season, after all.
“I think Al was here earlier, but if he didn’t tell you...I asked Winry to marry me the other day.”
He pauses, almost like he’s waiting for a response. “I don’t think the stuff I said at the train station counted, so I asked her last Saturday. She was working on someone’s arm. She didn’t answer right away, and I thought she was going to slap me with it, but she said yes.” He laughs. "Thank God, too, because I didn't really have a backup plan if she said no."
“Al and his girlfriend, Mei, and Paninya––one of Winry’s friends from Rush Valley––have been going crazy planning the wedding. I don’t even know what half the things they talk about are. And Al is so much stronger and healthier now that I can’t just borrow his suit for the wedding, I have to go get measured and get a new one. I was so worried he would never regain all the weight he lost, but he did.” The breeze blows by again, this time bringing with it the warm scent of cotton laundry. “I wish you could see. He’s almost as tall as me. Almost .
“Winry and I haven’t even seen a wedding. Not that we can remember. But Al said he and Mei went to one in Xing, and they have these huge parties over there, with hundreds of people. Maybe we’ll have one like that. So many people helped us get our bodies back, Mom. You would like them. I just know you would."
He rolls a blade of grass between his fingers, watching the green burst and stain his thumb.
“Do you remember when we were younger how you and Al used to say me and Winry would get married? I always hated when he did that. I’d say she would love her stupid automail more than me, and she always said she’d never marry a man shorter than her. Joke’s on her now, and she has to stand on a stool to reach things on the big shelves. But I usually get them for her, ‘cause I’m a nice person like that.
“I didn’t think about her like that when we were trying to get our bodies back. Mostly I thought about how mad she was going to be if she found out I broke my arm again. I bought her earrings to make up for it, but that got old after a while. Or I thought about how much I missed eating her cooking instead of our traveling food. But I never really thought about marrying her until recently. I guess that’s kind of funny in hindsight. It’s like what you used to tell us––whatever happens, right? But she’s always been there.”
He pauses, and his voice lowers a little, like he’s telling a secret. “I was so alone. There were so many people around me, but I felt like a single rock in the universe. Sometimes if I was hurt really bad, I wouldn’t even be able to remember what Al’s face looked like. His real face. I could only see the armor. But I could always remember Winry’s face.
One time, Ling asked me if I loved Winry. I told him to shut up. The idiot said, ‘I’ll take that as a yes’, and I told him to shut up again. For someone as airheaded as him, I can’t believe he knew before me. Al said everyone knew. I guess it was just the obvious choice. Out of all the people I know, why would I want to marry anyone except Winry, you know?"
He stands up, wincing a little as he puts strain on his automail leg. Even so, he can’t help the grin spreading across his face. “It’s always been her. I couldn’t be in love with anyone else, even if I tried. But you knew that, even back then.”
The sun burns bright and summer bronze on Trisha's headstone. Ed smoothes his jacket and brushes the dust from his pants.
"We'll save you a seat at the wedding, Mom. And make sure Dad comes too. Granny misses having someone to drink with."