Maryanne was so turned in unto herself that she barely noticed even the breeze that rustled the freshly placed flowers. Meaning Clint had gone unnoticed until he placed his hand on her shoulder. The whispered greeting told her that she was caught.
Moments like these were generally kept to herself. Tucked away in her room, curled up in the thick blankets. That was half the reason she waited until nearly nightfall. The other half was Tim was asleep, trolling the night easier. She was tired of people feeling sorry for her. Tired of feeling sorry for herself.
Maryanne had kept herself from jumping, though. But the heels of her hand rubbed over her cheeks, each in a hard shove. Forcing tears and their trails away. One last sniffle. "Hey." And she was able to return his greeting.