Ephraim didn't want to go to the funeral. Funerals were always a dreary affair, full of awkward lulls in conversation and uncontrollable sobbing. Not that he ever expected it to be any different, he just didn't want to have to go to one for a pair of near strangers. The Aarons had been friends of his parents, and although he'd met them a few times over the years, Ephraim had spoken no more than a few words to them. And yet there he was, dressed in his Sunday best in a house full of mournful strangers, wishing he was at the mall with his best friend, Mateo and Mateo's twin sister, Micah.

"I don't see why I have to go," Ephraim had complained to his parents that morning. "Ellie doesn't."

"Ellie's four, you're not," had been his mother's silencing reply.

At thirteen, nothing was more important to Ephraim than hanging out with his friends, sneaking playboys from his uncle's bedroom, and stealing off with the occasional beer from the fridge when he was alone in the house. Without anything to look forward to, the best he could hope for was a plate full of carbs from five different casseroles, and a quiet corner where he could eat his food in peace. He was in the process of stuffing his pockets with dinner rolls when he saw her through a half-opened door in an adjoining room.

The girl couldn't have been any older than Ephraim. Pale blonde hair and shimmering blue eyes, she was the kind of pretty that took his breath away. But for all her beauty, her face was quite severe. As if someone had shot her dog, he'd thought. Then realizing that she was the same girl from the Aarons’ family portrait near the entryway, Ephraim mentally kicked himself. Or maybe because her parents just died.

The blue-eyed girl clutched a rosary in her hand and whispered softly into the beads. Ephraim set down his plate and crept closer to the half-opened door. His curiosity drew him forward like a moth to the flame. As he grew near, he could see further into the room. The walls within appeared to be glass, and there were several dozen white fold-up chairs arranged in rows, and white lilies on standing sprays next to two mahogany caskets. Ephraim's breath caught in his throat as his eyes intruded on a clearly private moment. Just as he inched closer still, a tall and brusque man in a white and black military uniform stepped out in front of him and abruptly closed the door.

"Best you move along, son," the man uttered firmly. Ephraim could only nod as the man ushered him away.

~X~

He didn't see the girl during the funeral.

Ephraim looked for her among the crowd of people that piled into the room with the caskets once the service began. It was a larger space than he'd first glimpsed, and it was mostly enclosed by slanted glass walls. Several people got up to speak before the open casket viewing. Each one had their own story of the Aarons, and by the end of each retelling, the eyes in the room were noticeably wetter and faces more flushed and crumpled with grief.

Ephraim chose not to join his parents in line for the viewing. His morbid curiosity was eager for a glimpse at the bodies, but he was not willing to risk a night's sleep haunted by the Aarons. Instead, he got up and wandered the many rooms of the large house, hoping he might catch another glance of the pretty blue-eyed girl. But all he found were empty rooms and a glare from the uniformed man he'd met earlier. Ephraim gave up and slipped out into the backyard, cursing softly under his breath. That's when he saw her again, sitting listlessly on a swing beneath a blossoming dogwood tree.

He considered calling out to her, but he didn't know her name and he figured that calling out "Hey, you," to a girl who had just lost her parents would make him seem like a douche.

Quietly, without so much as a word, he walked over and took the swing beside hers. Glancing briefly at the girl, Ephraim pulled the swing behind him and took a few steps back before he prepared to launch himself forward on the swing. The girl turned his way, looking startled and mouth half-open as if she had something to say, but didn't. Then with a slight hop, Ephraim pulled himself onto the swing and propelled forward, only vaguely aware of the girl's voice as she jumped to her feet and called out behind him.

Ephraim turned his head back but couldn't hear the girl over the loud crack from overhead. Just as his body was swinging forward, the branch holding up the swing came crashing down and Ephraim felt the pull of gravity on his back, slamming him hard into the ground.

"Are you okay?" The girl asked, standing over him.

Ephraim groaned and tried to sit up, only to rest himself flat on his back again.

"I don't know," he replied, wincing. "Maybe. But I think I broke my ass."

It wasn't meant to be funny. In fact, his backside hurt like hell, but the blonde-haired girl with the sad blue eyes that stood over him had cracked a small smile. It was just a slight upturn of her mouth, yet there was a vibrance around her that invited him in.

"You dropped your dinner rolls," she pointed out as she leaned over to pick one up. The other two rolls had rolled down into a nearby flower bed.

The girl held the roll out to Ephraim, but he just shook his head. She dropped the roll and offered him her free hand instead.

Not bothering to move, Ephraim sighed and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he uttered remorsefully.

"It's just bread."

Her voice was soft and wispy like the wind, and there was kindness in it that only served to make him feel worse.

"Not that," he replied, opening his eyes. He was startled to find her crouched beside him, and he quickly pushed himself up to her eye level. "The tree. I'm sorry for breaking it; I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have come over. You probably just want to be left alone."

Ephraim pushed himself up to his feet and dusted off his pants and his dress jacket. He motioned to leave when the girl took him by the hand.

"Please don't go," she implored earnestly. "You have kind eyes, and I think I need that right now."

Ephraim nodded and let her lead him into the gardens. It felt like the beginning of something. He was on a new path now, strung along by a pretty girl whose name he did not yet know. But maybe she saw something in him too, something worthwhile; all he had to do was follow.