Free Eternal Service by Regina Morris

tablecloth in the box.
    Sulie let out a surprised squeal, then grabbed the tablecloth and wrapped it around her brother’s bleeding hand. “Let me help you,” she said.
    “Suzanne Leigh, leave me alone,” he growled. Raymond noticed the coldness of Sulie’s eyes when she heard him use her full name, instead of the nickname he had given her when they were only children.
    In a stern voice she said, “Raymond, come with me. I want to wash you up.” She looked at her brother, who no longer noticed her presence. “Raymond! Let’s go get you cleaned up. Now.” She gently put her hand on his elbow and led him into the kitchen to the sink.
    As she worked removing porcelain shards from his hand, she asked, “How did you get home without a car?”
    He blinked once, then again. “William was downtown. He picked me up, and then left to find Jackie and the kids.”
    She ran the water at low-pressure as she pulled his hand under the stream. Blood pooled around the drain and his hand healed as the shards were removed. She removed a large porcelain splinter from his thumb and he winced. “Where were you when William picked you up?”
    “At the National Mall. Walking around.”
    “Were you with the new director?”
    Raymond paused. “No. She left.”
    “Ben said she was nice. Did you like her?”
    “Yes.”
    Sulie turned off the water and dried his hand. “Where did you go with her after Ben left?”
    “Starbucks.”
    “Did you have a pleasant talk with her?”
    “Not really. She left early.”
    “Why did she leave you alone at the coffee shop?” she asked placing a bandage on his nearly healed hand.
    “I don’t know. I guess we were done talking.”
    Sulie’s eyes narrowed in on her brother. “You noticed the vase I bought. Did you like it?”
    “It's nice. Beautiful roses. …” He made eye contact with her. “I’m sorry I broke your vase, Sulie. I’ll replace it.”
    “I don’t want the vase replaced. Tell me about the roses, Raymond.” When he didn’t respond, she led him outside to the gazebo. The bandage was already not needed. His skin had already healed itself, but sometimes people need to see a wound to admit that one exists.
    Once settled on a bench, she leaned over the side of the gazebo and picked a rose from the bush. She handed the flower to Raymond and asked again about the roses.
    He stared at the rose in his hand. “They were beautiful red roses.”
    Something was wrong. The vase had yellow roses, and the one in his hand was more orange than anywhere near the color of red. “What is the significance of red roses?”
    “They were her favorite.”
    “Who? Captain Brennan?”
    He blinked. “No. Wilma. I planted them for her on her birthday. She was pregnant with Sterling.”
    Sulie shook her head, remembering the past. “Yes. You planted them in her garden. The flowers were beautiful. Tell me about the roses.”
    He caressed the petals of the rose. “She would pick the roses in full bloom and put them in a porcelain vase, and set it on our table for our evening meal. She loved the roses.” He sniffed the rose in his hand.
    “Raymond, why did you destroy the vase with the roses on it.”
    “I don’t know.” He glanced away from his sister. He could have blocked the guilt he felt from Sulie, but either didn’t want to spend the energy or he felt too raw to hide his feelings from her anymore.
    “Raymond, do you regret giving Wilma the roses?”
    “No. Of course not. The rose bushes were a present for her,” he looked at his sister in disbelief.
    “Why do you feel guilty about the roses?”
    “I don’t feel guilty about the roses. They made her happy.” He paused a long time before continuing. He took a deep breath. “I wanted to be a good husband to her.” His eyes filled with tears.
    “You were a good husband to her. She told me so herself.” She gently rubbed his shoulders and back.
    He smiled back at her with that acknowledgment. After a short pause, he admitted,