Also, because the bridges are being fixed, we will need to take an old internal estate road through the main forest. Then, find the old road to get onto the main public road system. It is a complex way to get off the estate and really just for emergencies.
I see her damaged sedan in the distance. It is under a tree andstill needs to be fixed. Making a mental note to ask William to get someone on it, I check my watch.
Samantha races out the front door and slides in the pebbles.
The crazy woman then climbs over the low door, her long, hot legs near my face. “Yikes, sorry,” she says, swaying in the old Jag while standing.
She grabs my shoulder, and then she drops down next to me in the old race-styled seats.
Her hot butt slams down, like it should be slamming down on my cock.
“Hold on,” I command.
Pebbles fly as we do a one-eighty. I then gun the old engine, and Sam squeals with delight. Too much delight and too much emotion.
Ten minutes later, as the two horses charge alongside, we head deeper into the forest.
“Not going to bury me out here, are you?”
“What?” I yell into the wind, unable to hear.
“Not going to kill me?”
“Likely, but not today.”
We share a look, then she smiles and grabs me, excited to have wind in her hair. I shake my head as we blast through piles of leaves. The alone drive is not playing out how I expected. In saying that, whatever is happening, I feel relaxed, and that was the goal.
For once, I seem to be going where I need to be.
But not alone.
As we get closer,and another mile into the woods, I feel serious. I don’t know what to say, so without saying anything, I pull over and get out. She will work it out.
Like always, and like my sister Amanda did for our grandparents when we were young, I walk to the wildflowers near the lake. I then use the old scissors, the same we had always used. They are antique silver ones that likely have their own story.
After cutting an armful of flowers, enough for the entire family, I walk over to the graves.
Samantha is now out of the car, keeping her distance. She watches respectfully in silence, likely now understanding.
It has been three years since the plane crash. The small plane crash that claimed the lives of my father, my mother, and my young, sweet, sweet sister. And three years since my life ended.
As I try to split the armful of wildflowers into suitable bunches, and while awkwardly using one hand to hold the old scissors, I feel a hand pull the scissors away.
Samantha then backs away and returns to lean on the front of the Jaguar as she watches.
For some reason, I don’t mind her being here. Maybe because we’re becoming friends, and she respects space, some of the time. Other times, WTF!
She also seems to understand when I’m down and need to be alone.
Kneeling at my sister Amanda’s grave, I say a few words. I then do the same with my mother’s and father’s.
After, I walk past my grandparents, and several uncles and aunts. It is a large group, and I am the last in the family.
All this here, the family… Will end with me.
As I inhaleand try to clear my mind, I walk back along the tree line to the Jaguar. That is when I see Samantha with a few wildflowers. She is kneeling at Amanda’s stone with her eyes closed.
Keeping her head down, she mumbles away, likely telling her about Charlie. It shocks me at first, and I anger.
