Whispering Suits

I avoid Gran once we're at the wake. We're at this up-scale wine bar that Gran had been raving about all week. I'm sure her cronies are impressed with the fancy cocktail menu and tiny hors d'oeuvres, and the serving staff are all wearing fancy suits. Oh yes, it's all very proper. But it's cold, which is strangely fitting as I can see through the windows that the weather is starting to turn. I check on Dan, who is safely tucked away in a corner with Nic and another friend I can't remember the name of, and Nat is over with some of mum's other friends and she's currently mid story talking about the time mum accidentally dropped a whole can of paint off the top of a step ladder and it went all over her head. She was washing pink out of her hair for days. I find that everyone has grouped up, and for the first time in days I am completely alone. It's not a sad feeling, to be honest, I'm a little glad. I walk over to the long window in the far corner and sit on the bench which has been built into the window sill. I lean my head against the cold glass and look out at the sky. Smoky grey clouds are blocking the sky, and it's started to rain the drops racing down the darkening window. I hug myself, pulling my arms in tight to me, I hate winter. I hate the cold, the dark, mum always talked about the importance of the balance between the seasons, but I never really understood why winter couldn't have just a little bit more sunlight. Mum would always chuckle, she called me her summer child, and said as long as I was in her life she had all the light she needed year round. I wipe the tears from my eyes, feeling silly for crying over something so trivial. I've all but forgotten about the room for people behind me when I hear someone politely clear their throat. I flicker my eyes up to their reflection in the window, but I can't see them clearly because of the rain. All I can see is a tall figure with a mess of red hair, and that they are wearing the same uniform as the other servers. “Pardon the interruption, but I wondered if you needed anything?” His voice is low and soft, like melted honey, though I'm not sure why that's the imagery that comes to mind. I close my eyes, I would give anything for a hot cup of tea, but I doubt a swanky place like this will have anything like that on their menu. I open my mouth to ask him to leave, when I hear him place something on the table next to the bench. “Here, I've brought you a drink. It's on the house. We're…I'm sorry for your loss”. By the time I turn to see what he's put down, he's vanished. I could swear that there was a faint smell of fruit hanging in the air where he stood, but then I look down and spot the drink. Lemon and ginger tea, my favourite. I pick the small green mug up and turn it around in my hands, the steam rises to meet my nose and I can't quite believe it but it smells just like the kind mum always makes…made. I turn to look back out the window, and noticed that the clouds have parted just enough to allow a small sliver of sunlight throughout the grey. The thin beam of light manages to hit my seat by the window, and I close my eyes as the brief warmth of the sun bathes my skin. It feels almost like I'm being given a warm hug by the sunlight, and I can't help but smile. Maybe mum is looking down on me, and knew I needed one of her patented hugs. By the time Dan, Gran and I get home from the wake it's dark out and I can just about make out the full moon hiding behind the now very dark clouds. We're lucky enough to catch a brief break in the rain so that we can run from the car into the house. I start to take Dan upstairs, it's well past his usual bedtime and I can tell he's starting to get cranky. He fusses and whines as I pick him up, and I do my best to comfort him but there is only so much I can do to soothe a tired 7 year old. I end up putting him in bed still half dressed, though I managed to get his little blazer and shoes off at least, he falls asleep quickly and for a moment I sit on the edge of his bed and watch him sleep. I hear Gran make her way upstairs and into the spare bedroom, and thank small mercies that she's decided to have our big fight another day. I make sure Dan is tucked in, and head out to make my own way to bed. I pause as I pass mum's room when I hear the now familiar jingling sound coming from inside. I take a deep breath, I probably should leave this for another day, but I'm sick of tip-toeing past this room. I open the door, everything is exactly where mum left it. Well, everything except the one thing I put in here two weeks ago on the night she died. I walk past the dresser, and the bed, to the old chest against the far wall. I take the key from around my neck, I've not taken it off since that night, and unlock the chest. The tingling sound has gotten louder since I entered the room, and as I open the chest I'm sure that the sound is so loud it's going to wake Gran or Dan up. I pick up the cloth package, I'd wrapped it up in mum's shawl, hoping beyond hope that that would keep it at bay. But, I should have known it wouldn't be satisfied to stay buried away. I unwrap the purple fabric and as the box comes into view, the room falls silent. The box itself is a dark midnight blue, with golden filigree swirls around the edge. On the face of the box there are Five small symbols. In the top right corner sits the symbol of a Chalice. In the bottom right sits the symbol of a Wand. In the bottom left sits the symbol of a Coin. And in the top left sits the symbol of a Dagger. In the middle sits an ornate flower, at the centre of which sits a knotted 7 point star. The symbol of Faerie. I run my hand over the symbols, letting my fingers trace the lines of the star. Then, I carefully lift the lid of the box to reveal the cards. These blasted cards. Mum showed me them once before, when I was younger before Daniel had even been born. She told me that this deck had been a gift from my father, that it was all she had left of him, and that I was never to touch it. Ever. But then, that night…she used it. The last words mum said to me as she lay dying were “Take the cards. Use them. Whatever happens, protect your brother. I love you both, I'm sorry I couldn't stop this…I tried….please…forgive me”. I run a tentative finger over the deck. I don't need The Sight to see the magic sparking off the cards, I've never seen so much raw energy in a deck before. Then again, I've not seen many Faerie decks. It's something they are usually very protective of. I've seen Nat’s deck before, but even then I've only seen a few cards. This looks like a whole deck. I flick through until I get to the one card not teeming with life, with magic. Major Arcana, number 3. In a standard deck, this would be called The Empress card…but this isn't a standard deck. I look at the name displayed in cursive script at the bottom of the card, it feels a cruel twist of fate that the card that killed mum is called The Mother. I slip the lid back on top of the deck, and once I'm sure it's staying quiet, I carry it carefully out of mum's room and into my own. I placed the deck in the top draw of my dresser and drag myself to bed. I'd meant to ask Nat about the cards today, but with the emotion of it all I forgot. I'll have to ask her tomorrow, maybe she'll know why mum kept that deck hidden, or why she used it that night. Maybe she'll know why mum was so insistent that I take it. As I fall asleep, only one thought is crystal clear in my mind. Now that I've touched the cards, I know without a doubt, that mum would still be here if I'd just used those cards instead.