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limousine with her hands buried deep in the pockets of her navy pea
coat. The chill in the air cut through the thin fabric of her black
boot cut slacks, and she was grateful for her coat as the thin
gray, V-neck sweater she wore under it offered very little
warmth.
    She watched the stream of mourners wind their
way through the headstones that peppered the Trinity Church
Cemetery as they made their way to her mother’s gravesite. The
cemetery had been established in the mid eighteen hundreds as the
result of overcrowding in the original Trinity Church’s churchyard
cemetery.
    Though sparse from the last pangs of winter,
the gently rolling hills and maple trees that peppered the cemetery
offered a stark contrast to the concrete and steel of the city that
surrounded the cemetery. Ryan thought if it weren’t for the
headstones and mausoleums she might imagine she was in a lovely
park.
    Ryan stared at one of the nearby gray brick
and concrete mausoleums. Her eyes felt heavy and dry from a fitful
night of sleep. The name Astor came into focus, the word
carved into the stone in large block letters.
    Ryan told herself she needed to walk, but her
feet seemed unwilling to move her forward. Lucy had already
chastised her when Ryan had asked for a few minutes before taking
her seat with the rest of the family. Carol had managed to distract
her mother, and spare Ryan the irritation, by complimenting Lucy on
the beautiful floral arrangements that had adorned the church
during services.
    “It’s what Karen would have wanted. She
simply adored flowers.” Lucy had wiped at an invisible tear with
the pressed silk handkerchief she had been carrying with her all
morning.
    Carol nodded, and looking up at Ryan,
smirked. Both women knew Karen’s affinity for nature, and how
active she had been throughout her life with local botanical
groups. Carol and Ryan also knew the last thing Karen would have
wanted was countless flowers and vines, in essence, killed for her
sake.
    “It’s all so lovely, Mother.” Carol placed
her hand on the small of her mother’s back, and guided the woman
toward the cemetery.
    “I’ll wait with you.” Ryan hadn’t realized
Andrew was standing next to her. His nose was red from the
cold.
    “It’s okay. I just need a minute on my own.”
Ryan forced gratitude into her voice, but the truth was she loathed
her cousin, and his attentions were, especially today,
unbearable.
    Shrugging, Andrew began walking after his
sister and mother. “Suit yourself.”
    Now, Ryan wasn’t sure she could move at all.
Though the air felt thin with the cold, an unimaginable weight was
pushing down on her, and she thought she might break. Her mother
was dead. People had stood up and attested to it for the past hour
in front of God and some of the wealthiest people in New York.
Individuals Ryan didn’t know talked about how wonderful her mother
had been, and how selflessly she had given of her time and
resources.
    Ryan had been shocked at how angry the scene
had made her. She imagined she had inadvertently wandered into a
stranger’s funeral. She didn’t know the person they were talking
about. Her mother had been cynical and judgmental. Her mother had
been selfish, and tried for years to shape Ryan into her own image,
with no consideration or compassion for the person her daughter was
or wanted to be.
    Ryan tilted her head up. The sky was partly
cloudy and it smelled like it might rain. Standing next to the car,
she couldn’t remember when she had started crying. She wiped at her
face with the back of her gloved hand, the rough leather texture
scratching at her cheeks.
    “Would you like a tissue, miss?” The middle
aged limousine driver was standing next to Ryan, a pastel colored
box of tissue held out in front of him. “There’s water in the car
if you would like.”
    Ryan pulled a tissue from the box and wiped
her nose. “No, thank you.” She managed a weak smile at the kind man
before taking a tentative step