REST IN PEACE

by

AUTHOR A

Chapter 3

The Chapters

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

“Iola!” the word wrenched from his lips as Joe spun around on the balcony, desperate to find her again – unwilling to let her go so soon… “Please!”

He felt himself spiraling, a leaf caught in a hurricane as his heart heaved in his chest, slammed with renewed loss. Hot tears seared his face but he didn’t care. She was gone….Iola was gone.

Again.

“Please!” Joe begged empty air, never needing anything as much as he needed this now. “Please – Iola…I can’t—” He hugged his arms around his waist, his fingers trembling and grasping as he slowly sank to a crouch, his tear-streaked face pressed against the iron railing. “It hurts too much…”

Around him muted noise pricked at his heart – the laughing, the music, the sounds of thin-stemmed glasses clinking in toasts and festivity…everything was a reminder of her.

His eyes closed in resignation; he had never felt so alone before.

Iola…

“Joe?” The sound of a voice behind him sent Joe spinning to his feet – Frank – his hands scrubbed at his eyes, desperate to restore the façade…to get the mask back on before…

Before what?

Joe stopped moving. His body was totally paralyzed with grief as the truth finally sank in; its nasty little jagged teeth cutting right through his emotional back bone.

Iola was dead…

She was gone…

She would always be gone.

“Frank?” His voice shook with yearning. He wanted desperately for someone to fix this – for his big brother to fix this; to shove this newest and most cruel bully away from him. But he couldn’t. Not this time. No one could. Not even Frank.

And somehow Frank knew this—

In one swift motion, the older man had crossed the distance between them, standing close, his dark eyes searching Joe’s face – almost black with concern. When he spoke his voice was low and more a request than anything. But for what? The younger brother had no idea. “Joe.”

…Let him in…

Her voice caressed the wind and he shivered.

…Let him in…

Joe turned away, his head bowed. “It hurts, Frank…” he whispered. “Oh God, it hurts so much…”

One hesitated moment – a heartbeat in time – and then a strong arm wrapped around his shoulder as his brother moved to stand beside him. “I know,” was all Frank said.

Letting himself lean against his brother, Joe closed his eyes as his body trembled, hard. “I miss her…I want her back.”

Compassion sighed in answer because Frank had no words.

Twisting to face his brother, Joe’s hands fumbled for his mask – he needed desperately to slip it back in place but Frank stopped him, catching his hands and holding them firmly.

“You don’t need it on,” he said, his dark eyes searching and sincere. “Not around me.” He paused and added. “Never around me…”

The younger brother swallowed hard and slowly lowered his hands. He sighed and leaned forward, letting his forehead rest against Frank’s chest. “I hate this,” he admitted, miserably.

“I know,” Frank sighed heavily as his hand gently squeezed Joe’s shoulder. “I wish things could have been different, Joe. I really do…”

“But they aren’t,” the younger teen finished wearily.

“No, they’re not.” His brother could do nothing but agree.

For a few minutes they stood like this until Joe finally sighed and straightened – he was exhausted but, oddly enough, he felt a bit better, and a lot less alone.

Frank was here…

And it wasn’t so much the comfort his brother’s words offered as the stability his presence loaned to the younger man; he was a safe haven for a wind-blown leaf – if only for a few moments – until the next gale sent it spiraling again.

“Frank?” Joe reached for the mask again but this time his brother didn’t try to stop him.

“Mmmm?” his older brother tilted his head appraisingly. “What?”

Joe gave him the ghost of a smile, “Thanks, bro,” and then slipped the mask firmly back in place. “Now what say we see if this shindig has anything worth eating?”

Frank matched his smile and raised him a soft chuckle as he slipped an arm back around Joe’s shoulder and guided him towards the balcony doors. “Any time kid…any time.” And he wasn’t talking about the food….

As the brothers were leaving the balcony something caught Joe’s eye and he bent down and picked it up. A pair of women’s white gloves?

Ignoring Frank’s questioning look, Joe raised the silky soft material, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. They smelled like vanilla…

Iola.

Without any explanation, he slipped them into his pocket. “I wonder—” he mused as he cast a glance over the empty balcony behind him, “If they have cookies…”

She watched them leave, her heart heavy with her own grief. The living said death was hardest on those left behind but the dead knew better.

His life was no longer hers…the path they had briefly walked together on was broken by mortality and divided by its finality.

His destiny and his heart lay in the future, while hers was forever in the past. And while she knew he would never forget her, she would always remember him…

He was her Prince Charming….Her valiant young knight….And while he might doubt himself, she had no doubt at all.

He was a hero.

A true hero. Both he and Frank. It was in the very blood that fueled their hearts and fed their souls.

But the sad fact of living was that even heroes couldn’t save everyone…and sometimes the bravest thing to do was just trying to survive.

‘Stay safe, my hero,’ she whispered and then with one final blessing over the life and choices Joe Hardy would make, Iola Morton was gone.

Forever.

The End

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