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“Impossible…..Really?” Fareeha fidgeted with the phone cord as she nodded attentively, her eyes wide as she heard the news. “O-okay. I’ll let her know. Thank you.”
“What was that about, sweetheart?” Angela called from the living room couch, snacking on a bag of chips as she looked up from her book. “Sweetheart?” A crash came from the kitchen. Angela jolted up, throwing her book down as she burst into the dining room. Fareeha was kneeling on the ground, her face in her hands. A multitude of items had been knocked from the counter. “What’s wrong?!” Angela quickly bent down to her wife’s level, grabbing her by the shoulders as panic flooded her body. Fareeha briefly broke away from her hands, letting out a dry sob before looking up with tears in her eyes.
“It’s David Song….He passed away.”
Fifteen minutes and a glass of cold water later, the pair sat at the dining room table, Angela wiping the stained tears from Pharah’s face as she recounted the phone call; Hana’s father had been part of a recon mission on a terrorist compound, an accident occurred and the building they were stationed in had collapsed. Fareeha choked as she described the death of her ex co-worker, Angela listening with a motherly expression. “I just don’t know how we’re going to tell Hana. How are we supposed to tell her something like this?!”
“Shhhh. Don’t fret, mein liebling. She’ll listen to you. Just tell her what you would’ve wanted to hear when you thought your mother had died.” Angela gently massaged her wife as she held her head against her bosom, refusing to let go until Fareeha had stopped shaking. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“But….How are we going to break the news? I mean...her own father . I know..I know she is, was, always afraid for him, you know that. How on earth do you consol someone when their deepest fear happens? How-” Fareeha stopped talking, interrupted as Angela gave her a deep kiss in response, allowing Pharah to melt in her arms as the familiar warmth of their embrace calmed her.
“It’ll be okay, sweetheart. We are a family and nothing will change that. We’ll wait until she gets home before telling her, together.
The front door creaked before bursting open. “Moms! I’m home! I met a new friend today named Somb- Is something wrong?” Hana stopped dead in her tracks, her cheery smile disappearing as she looked at her sullen parents. Angela was the first to speak up, pulling a chair out for her daughter.
“Sweetheart, come sit down.” Angela offered a small smile, unable to betray the look of sadness in her eyes. Fareeha stared at her hands, steeling herself as not to weep in front of her child. She rubbed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling. Their daughter slowly sat down, looking mortified as she glanced between her two mothers. When neither spoke, the gamer opened her mouth.
“Is...Is this about money again? Can someone tell me what’s going on? You’re freaking me out here.” Hana rubbed her arms, uncomfortable. Fareeha slowly got up from her chair, stepping forward and embracing her child in an endearing hug. Angela swallowed, setting a hand on Hana’s shoulder before looking her in the eyes.
“Your father….passed. I’m so sorry, Hana.”
Hana froze, the touch of her parents no longer warm as the world seemed to shrink around her. Pharah had begun sobbing into Hana’s sweatshirt, her protective, muscular hands wavering. Hana stared at the far wall, her mother’s explanation fading into white noise as all her senses seemed to leave. Alone. Vivid thoughts of her father’s death flashed through her mind, ones of pain and blood. Before she realized it, she was crying, a wet mess on an expressionless face as she failed to process the information. Everything seemed cold. Time seemed meaningless as Hana was slowly overtaken by grief, her body slowly crumpling as her weight fell out from underneath her, her body supported by the mother she could not feel as tears continued to spill from her eyes.
“Hana. Hana I’m so sorry. They did everything they could.” Angela cupped her daughter’s cheek, scared. Slowly, Hana let out a low sob, her shoulders heaving as she came back to her senses. Everything felt cold, but wet and dark. She broke down, heaving as she returned Fareeha’s embrace, biting and screaming into Fareeha’s shoulder. The screaming stopped when she ran out of breath, and even then she continued to cry silently, tugging at her mother’s sleeves as her throat burned in pain.
Eventually Fareeha and Angela sat in their room, Hana having fainted from exhaustion. Fareeha had tearfully tucked her to sleep in her room, making sure to prop a stuffed animal in her arms. The two looked at each other with gloom-ridden eyes, Angela had her hand on Pharah’s, lightly massaging her with a thumb.
“What do we do now?” Fareeha asked the question in a whisper, her head fallen as her black hair covered her eyes. Mercy scooted a tad closer on the bed, worried about her wife and daughter more than ever before.
“I suppose we contact your mother...probably Reinhardt….prepare for the funeral.” Angela talked as quietly as her wife, trying to bring up the idea as softly as possible. “What else is there to be done? You stay here and rest. I’ll start calling people.” Angela gave her wife a pat before shifting to get up, stopping as she felt a tug on the back of her pants. Fareeha looked up at her dearest, sniffling, her voice cracking as she spoke.
“Don’t leave me...right now.”
“Ja. I’m so sorry.” Angela sat back down, holding her wife by the arm, coaxing Pharah to set her head on her thighs, running fingers through her wife’s hair until she, too, fell into thankful sleep.
“Oh….Darling...Yes, Reinhardt is here with me. I’ll let him know. Thank you. Give Hana my love.” Ana set down the old-timey phone with a clang, taking a deep breath before returning to tea time in the living room.
“What is going on?” Reinhardt raised his brow, sipping from a teacup cradled in his oversized hands. Ana sat back down in the rocking chair next to him, picking up a teacup of her own.
“It’s Hana’s birth father. Apparently he passed overseas.” Ana sipped her tea solemnly, letting a moment of respect past before looking over at her darling. Reinhardt was struck dead, practically in shock as tea dribbled down his chin. Ana sighed, lightly patting his knee. He was like this with anyone’s death. Ana recalled the time she had to pat his back for fifteen minutes because their elderly garbage man had suffered a stroke. “We’ll go support Hana at the funeral. Don’t cry.”
“...Thank you. I’ll be there.” Lucio turned off his phone, shoving it inside his pocket as he looked out across the park from his bench. Everything seemed the same, but he knew it wasn’t. The sympathy he felt for his dear friend was incredible. The flock of pigeons peered at him from the ground, concerned. The musician picked up his guitar and began to play, just as he had been doing a moment earlier.
The actual mass was a slow affair, everyone sitting in the pews of the local church, the funeral mass dragging on. David Song had been a catholic, and as per his request the hall was flooded with incense. His coffin was stationed at the foot of the altar, lid closed on the hickory wood. Everyone sat in the front row, Hana sitting between her mothers as she screamed into Angela’s shoulder, muffled. Ana and Reinhardt sat close to each other, holding hands with white knuckles as each broke sob from her granddaughter made Ana more and more worried. Lucio sat in the pew behind, not having any connection to the deceased. He rubbed his arms, uncomfortably. The judge was there too, having found out some way or another, sitting next to Lucio with the same stern look as always. The priest, a young lanky man with a thick peruvian accent, finished his homily, prompting everyone to stand for the next prayer. Angela and Hana stayed seated, the teen’s hand shaking as she clutched her mother in desperation. The minutes ticked by ever-so-slowly, filled with tears and hiccups as the mass wound down to an end. The priest said a final prayer, his voice full of wisdom and sorrow, before the procession slowly guided the coffin towards the front of the hall, a hearse waiting outside. Everything would continue at the graveyard on the far side of town, an old place near David Song’s childhood home. He loved the trees.
The family stood by, silent, as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave. Hana had begun crying harder than ever, unable to look up from her mother’s shirt to give her father a final goodbye. No one said a word as the funeral employees began to fill the hole, sealing the earth with the departed inside. The congregation slowly shuffled back to their cars, a silent agreement to later meet at Fareeha’s house in place.
Fifteen minutes later, several vehicles sat parked outside the small house, the sounds of talking and the clink of wine glasses filling the kitchen. Fareeha was explaining everything, sitting at the table as her guests listened attentively. Angela stood nearby, the wine in her hand untouched.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to go check on Hana, okay? I’ll be upstairs.” Mercy interrupted her wife’s discussion, lightly touching the security guard’s arm before making her way upstairs. The moment they had gotten back Hana had gone upstairs, the door of her bedroom slamming. She had not been seen since, and Angela took a deep breath as she stepped through the hallway, twisting the doorknob as slowly as possible as the door tilted open with a creak.
Hana sat at her desk, headphones on as a game blared on the screen, her face
millimeters from her monitor. She didn’t look up as Angela closed the door behind her, either because she couldn’t hear her or didn’t want to. The doctor took a step closer, reaching out to her daughter. The teen flinched as Angela set a hand on her head, sighing before removing her headphones and turning around. Her face was puffy and wet, and Angela could still see tears bordering the edges of her eyes. As a doctor, Angela had already seen so much death. But this was her seventeen year old daughter. Not knowing what else to do, Angela embraced her child, holding her tightly as the teen began to dissolve into a puddle of sobs once more.
“And….I don’t know...He was a good man. I just don’t know how Hana’s taking it.” Fareeha stared at the table as she twiddled her thumbs, her friends and family nodding around her as she finished talking. Ana set down her glass, walking over and proceeding to give her daughter a massage.
“Fareeha, darling. We all know you are doing your best. As long as you’re there for her, everything will be okay.” Everyone ignored the completely insensitivity of Ana’s statement, lightly nodded and taking sips of wine.
“Uh….If it wouldn’t be too much trouble I have some music I brought for today…” Lucio spoke up for the first time this evening, slightly terrified since he never knew Hana’s father. But of course no one questioned the judge’s presence; the brawny mexican man having been sipping wine with a faraway look in his eyes for the last half hour.
“Of course, go right ahead.” Fareeha attempted to manage a smile as she gestured towards the living room, a collection of music players sitting on a shelf in the corner.
“Promise….you won’t ever leave me…” Hana begged between dry sobs, her eyes closed tightly as Angela cradled her in her arms.
“Your mother and I will always be by your side, sweetheart.” Angela no sooner said the words before said the words, immediately soft music began emanating through the house, a sorrowful melody of what sounded like a harp combined with wind music. Hana slowly opened her eyes, her crying ceasing as she listened to the soft cooing of the music. She could feel her mother’s warmth, and the protection of the mother downstairs. She could feel the sweet touch of her grandmother, the bountiful laughter of her caretaker, and the bright smile of her best friend. And in the moment, before she closed her eyes once more, Hana Song accepted the loss of her dear father, safely reassured by the precious people that she had encountered over the last year. Where her father was, a multitude of people were there, each one with boundless support for her. And with that in mind, the teen slowly fell asleep, the sounds of music flowing through her ears as she sunk in the comfortable arms of her loving family.