The Malachite Necklace
an excerpt

Amelia followed her mother through the iron gate and down the gravel path. She knew they were headed to Laura’s grave. It was about half way back, just under a giant sycamore. Her mother looked even smaller and thinner as she carefully walked through the damp grass toward her dead firstborn. Most of the headstones were simple and square, although there was a concrete angel here or there. Amelia and Janice stood there, side-by-side, looking at the flat, shiny gray marker.

Janice fished through her purse and took out a cookie, wrapped in cellophane. She unwrapped it and placed the cookie on the headstone.

“Is that a cookie?” Amelia asked.

“Oatmeal raisin was her favorite. Every once in awhile I bring her one.” She paused. “Well, I guess I bring the squirrels one.”

Amelia stared at that cookie. It was completely ludicrous. The tombstone read Laura Michelle Sykes. When Amelia saw the familiar date, she realized today was the anniversary. Her sister had been dead 18 years. “Wow, I didn’t realize it was today,” Amelia said.

There were no leaves to clean off the stone because of the unrelenting wind, so Janice folded her arms across her chest. “When you have children, you’ll find that you can’t ever forget certain dates.”

Amelia didn’t know what to say. She felt the crisp breeze on her cheeks. She looked at the mud on her shoes. Having been so young when Laura died, she hardly remembered anything. She had a memory of playing under the kitchen table with her. They’d made it into a fort with a pale yellow sheet. She remembered Laura sneaking her to the church one day and the two of them yelling and hollering and listening to their voices echo. She remembered watching her braid her long blond hair one night. She’d been wearing an emerald green nightgown.

“I don’t have any memories of her being sick at the end, or her funeral,” Amelia said.

“That’s lucky,” Janice said. “It was bad when it got close to the end.”

“Mom—“

“Come on honey, I’m freezing,” Janice interrupted, reaching out and taking one of Amelia’s hands in her own. It was a comfortable, but slightly awkward thing, but it made Amelia almost start crying.

They walked through the graveyard together, nothing but the wind to drown out the silence.