Vīgintī trēs

It's October first and Law is currently packing to go back to Boston to take care of a few things; see her boyfriend, you know, live the carefully constructed life she's spent years building. She's going to come back to Salem for a couple of weeks at the beginning of November before returning back to Boston indefinitely. Or, at least, for the immediate future.

"Do you care if I take the Instant Pot? It would be great for my dorm room. I don't think you would use it."

I finish stirring sugar into my coffee before taking a sip from the warm mug, savoring the rich hazelnut creamer I added as it glides down my throat.

"Yeah, go for it," I say with a shrug. She's not wrong. I have no idea how to work that thing, and quite frankly it terrifies me. You hear all these horror stories about the dangers of using pressure cookers. It seems like every single family has its own tales of woe regarding some aunt or uncle who fell prey to an exploding pressure cooker at one time or another.

It is a harsh reminder, however, that although I can take care of myself, for the most part, I don't really know much about cooking. I suppose that's something that I can learn. People have been figuring out how to cook since the dawn of time. No one gets good at that overnight. Worst case scenario, I have the Doordash app on my phone.

Leaning a hip against the marble top of the kitchen island, I watch as she roots through the cupboards from her position sitting flat on the hardwood floor. "Law, you don't need to take everything now. You'll be back, and it's not like UPS isn't a thing. I can ship you shit if you need it."

Pulling her hands down her face, she blows out a deep exhale through her pursed lips. "I know, Sunday. I'm just… I don't know. I feel anxious about leaving."

I furrow my brows. "I thought you wanted to go back to Boston?"

She nods. "I do. It's not that. It's just… I don't want to leave you here alone. It's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself, I know that you can. It's just that, well, I don't want you to be here without any family. The thought of you here alone hurts my heart. And leaving kind of feels like I'm closing the book on Salem. Closing a book on Dad, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

I can hear the tension in her throat as she fights back tears. Folding my legs, I sink down to the floor, planting my ass next to hers, and set my coffee on the cool hard floor. "Salem will always be here, Laurie. I will be here, the house isn't going anywhere. Uncle Ramsay will be here. You're not closing the book on anything.

"And, look, I'll be fine. I have Poe and Veronica. They're like family to me and have been for a long time. I'm close with their families like they're my own. I appreciate that you worry about me, but I promise you that I will be just fine here."

She sniffles. "Since when did you become the mature one?"

I snort. "Well, I wouldn't go that far. I'm just having a good day. When I have hard days, you've been there to hold me up. I'm eighteen now. Let me do the same for you. That's what sisters are for, right?" I lean over, knocking my shoulder against hers gently.

Her face crumples in on itself as the tears begin to fall down her cheeks. My own chest tightens as I lean my weight onto my knees, scooting closer to her and wrapping her in my embrace as she lets the tears fall, unhindered, just for a moment. To be honest, it's the most I've seen Law cry since she got here from Boston. I think part of her has been trudging forward, stressing about me, and the house, and her lost semester. It was easy for her to push the loss of my dad into the back of her mind. Honestly, I think that was the point. Compartmentalization at its finest.

Now that she's being forced to acknowledge the fact that I'm going to be just fine, and that things here are going to continue marching forward as time rolls by, there's nothing left to distract herself with. She's finally falling into her own stage of grief. Hopefully, she's realizing that she doesn't have to play the parent-- that I'm an adult that is capable of caring for myself and she can just be Law; a college student who lost her father, who was both her biggest supporter and confidant.

We sit like that for a long time. It could have been minutes, it could have been an hour. It doesn't really matter. Time is lost to grief, in the end. There is no bigger reminder of the finite nature of time than losing someone unexpectedly. Facing death, facing mortality in such a way, is a hard pill to swallow. Tomorrow is not guaranteed for any of us. There won't always be a tomorrow. Eventually, there will only be today for all of us.

Finally, law pulls back, wiping the remnants of her tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart like that," she says with a watery laugh.

I shake my head, a sorrowful warmth spreading through my chest because I know all too well exactly how she's feeling. "I know. It's okay. I think there's going to be a lot of that over the next couple of years. Moments that seem otherwise innocuous becoming suddenly laden with grief."

She nods before going back to sorting through the cabinets. "I'm hoping that I'll start feeling better after everything here is done. Once the will is read, and all that."

I pick up a small frying pan off the floor, turning it over in my hands mindlessly. "I didn't realize that it took so long to settle an estate."

Her answering voice sounds distant as she leans into the deep cupboard beneath the kitchen island. "It doesn't usually, but they still haven't finished the investigation, so everything is put on hold until that completes. His life insurance is tied up, too."

My hands still. "What do you mean? It was an accident."

She pulls herself out of the cupboard holding a vintage crockpot that we've had buried in the cupboards since what looks like the seventies if the print on the side of the pot is anything to go by. "Well, yeah, we know that. But it hasn't been officially ruled an accident by the authorities. That takes time,"

I feel my brows twitch in concern. I hadn't ever considered the fact that what happened to Dad was anything less than an accident. He was working alone in the shop when a piece of machinery malfunctioned, causing the full weight of a car to come down on top of him. It's not something I like to spend too much time thinking about so perhaps that's why I hadn't really given it much consideration before.

"I didn't know he had life insurance."

Law nods. "He did, and it's a healthy policy you and I will split once it comes through. I want to make sure that you have everything you need here and some money in the bank for college."

I roll my eyes, but say nothing choosing instead to skirt this argument for the time being. I don't want to go to college. Even if I did, I'd probably settle for the community college to get a basic degree. I don't have big dreams and aspirations like Law does. I just want to be happy and have the freedom to do what I want.

"Do you care if I take this crockpot?"

I shake my head. "We have two other ones, but honestly I would think that your dorm advisor might have something to say when that ancient piece of history burns down your entire dormitory."

She shakes her head at me with a chuckle. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

I give her a patronizing smile as I push myself to my feet, set my coffee back on the kitchen island, pick up my phone from the countertop, and unlock it to find a text notification.

-Study date?-

The two words from Poe followed by a bat, witch hat, and pumpkin emoji let me know exactly what kind of studying she wants to do, and I'm so into it. It's only Wednesday, but we have the rest of the week off of school due to parent-teacher conferences. Something I no longer have to worry too much about, given my entire lack of parents, and all.

I turn to leave the kitchen as I start typing my reply, but Law stops me.

"Hey, Sunday? I realize you're eighteen now and everything, but no parties in the house while I'm gone, okay?"

"Sure," I acquiesce with a shrug. "Of course. Don't worry about it."