Re: Bill -Molly
Molly stood, hand tight around her son's arm, looking down into the grave of her husband, then turned and hugged her boy. She was sure he was aching, sure they all were, and she needed to be strong for them, if she could. She'd spent time outside, time among the trees and the breeze, talking to Arthur. Saying goodbye. Thinking of her children and the way he'd loved them all.
Molly reached to touch her son's face, then stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "He was always so proud of you," she whispered, one arm tight around Bill's neck, and she kissed him again before letting herself down to her feet. She wanted to tell him more, but there'd be time for that, time to reminisce when things weren't so sharply painful, and she settled for touching his cheek again.
"Walk with me past this loose dirt," she said, putting a hand on his arm again. She was old, and felt twice as ancient today, and it wouldn't do to slip and fall in the loose earth.