The sound of the rain on my umbrella is so soothing; I could close my eyes and imagine it's springtime, finally, after this wretched winter. If only it weren't so cold.
Here comes the cavalcade from the church. Showtime. I breathe deeply, sucking the freezing, damp air all the way into the bottom of my lungs. It's not a pleasant sensation, but I'm starving for oxygen. I remind myself that I can't breathe in auras, and that shallow breaths don't do any good unless I'm on a subway next to a large man with sweaty armpits, in which case they're the best option.
I look for the limousine that follows the hearse; that's the one Paxton will be in. It will take a while for the others to catch up, but it's worth some minutes of solitary discomfort to be the first person here, to get my eyes ready for the show. The hearse stops as close to the gravesite as it can. Well-dressed men get out and begin unloading flowers from the back of the hearse. It takes some time, and while they're unloading I move closer to the covered gravesite, hoping that Paxton will see me when she gets out and know I'm here. It looks like a hundred arrangements have been sent: the requisite chrysanthemums and lilies, white tulips, lushly petaled camellias, gardenias and freesia so fragrant I can smell them from twenty feet away, and as I approach, I can see a tiny bouquet of sweet peas. Where someone managed to find sweet peas this time of the year is anyone's guess. There's a spray of roses that are such a dark shade of red they almost look black in the washed-out light of this rainy afternoon. I can't help but wonder who sent them. Were they sent because Catherine loved red roses, or because someone is still madly in love with her? Both, maybe.
Once they've set up the flowers, they carry the white casket to the sheltered gravesite and set it down on the frame, where it will stay through the interment. Finally, they bring out the spray for the casket, an extravagant arrangement of white roses and stargazer lilies, their dark pink centers romantic and sensual. I think that was probably Paxton's choice.
So far the auras have been manageable, although I may have to move back again after Paxton comes out. I know she'll understand. The last thing anyone needs is a bout of hysterics, for whatever reason. The colors are nowhere near as concentrated as they would have been indoors, and I'm sure there will be fewer people here than there were at the church. I'll be all right. It'll be fine.
Paxton hasn't come out yet, but the priest emerges from his car and heads towards the site. When I get a good look at his colors, I begin to doubt my confidence. I feel a familiar, uncomfortable burn in my stomach and I wish to hell I'd brought some Tums. A dark, dingy gray cloud surrounds him, but it's the other colors that scare me. The gray is shot through with shocking streaks of red and a dark, sickly orange that makes me think of gangrene. He gives the overwhelming impression of deep illness, a sickness of the soul, and it seems obscene that he's about to bless Catherine's body before burial, it's so wrong, and I step forward to protest, but there's a firm grip on my arm and a hard jerk, as I am pulled away from the green tent.
"Jillian. Don't," Robert says, and his tranquil emerald light surrounds me, helping slow the triphammer beating of my heart, letting me breathe again. "Let it go." A whiff of jasmine floats by, and I know that Sara is here, which means that Shen will show up any minute. Thank God. Thank God. I can't do this without my family.
"Can you see it?" I ask him. "Can you see the priest?"
He stands beside me and shakes his head. "I can't see what you see, but he's not striking me as the most appropriate person to be wearing a stole. Not that I would know," he adds, and I finally smile. He doesn't like to talk about it much, but Robert was days away from ordination when he met Sara. The ordination never happened. I wish they would just tell us the damned story, but maybe they're saving it for the next blackout.
The door to the silver limousine opens and a man I don't know steps out. His aura - I've never seen anything like it. Bathed in white iridescence so bright it makes me squint for a moment, the man bends to help Paxton out of the car. His aura shifts when he takes Paxton's hand, pulsing dark rose, divine violet, luscious indigo, and back to white, where it rests for a moment before all those glorious colors burst through again in a rainbow of what looks to me like a deep, sacred love. I turn away for a moment, feeling like a voyeur.
When I look back, Paxton is coming out of the car, carefully not looking at the man beside her. He doesn't offer her his arm, but walks just behind her as she goes to the gravesite. She's not liking the heels, I can tell, and I can't blame her; they're not very practical on wet grass, but it's not like you can wear rain boots to your mother's funeral – not when your mother was Catherine Hollister. Her usually vibrant shades of cobalt, viridian, and shimmering gold are muted today, compared to the man she's with, but I'm not worried. I see occasional pulses of dark red when she has to steady herself, but I see no black, and the aura is more stable than I expected. I send a prayer of thanksgiving to whoever's listening.
"How's she looking?" Shen's voice comes from behind my shoulder, so smooth and soft it's like he's still in church.
"She's OK," I say, my own voice shaky.
"Good," Sara says. "I think you can turn your eyes down now, Jillian. This can't be easy for you." She's right, and I do, the bright colors leeching out of the day, leaving only the brown grass, the harsh, artificial green of the tent, and the silver of the rain and the sky.
"Sara, do you know who that is standing next to her?" I ask. "The man in the dark grey suit?"
She doesn't answer at first, and I am immediately suspicious. I turn to her, my eyebrows raised. She smiles mysteriously, which she knows infuriates me.
"I don't know his name," she says. "But I think he's a new acquaintance. Maybe we'll get to know him sometime."
"I hope so," says Shen. "It looks like he's got some serious intentions about our girl."
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