I really wanted to post a Mothers Day fic, and I really wanted to write something with Jem, and since I theorize he and his mama were close I wrote this. Be warned: it's very very short. :P I might rewrite one later down the road with another prompt (because frankly, I had a lot of them)

Jeremy stepped out into the rainy air from the small flower shop in town. He looked down at the flowers and took a sniff.

Tulips. Her favorite.

He remembers she always had a vase filled with them on the dining table. And when they decayed, Atticus would come home from work with fresh ones the next day.

Not many husbands loved their wives like his father had loved his. Jeremy himself was lucky for that.

It's been nearly 22 years and he still remembers her vividly. The floral dresses she wore, the way her perfume smelled, and way he curls bounced when she played with him, and the way she smiled. The smile that she passed down to him.

It's sprinkling now. And the streets are empty. (and muddy) Atticus would have come along with him, but he said today was his day to be with her. And Jean Louise was in New York.

Besides, she doesn't even remember her. Thus, didn't miss her. It made him angry. Angry at everything. Angry at his sister for not knowing her, angry at his mother for leaving like she did, angry at himself for being angry in the first place. It wasn't his fault but it still hurt. Hurt because she didn't feel the hurt he did.

At this point it's nearly pouring, and he's trudging through the muddy grass. By now, he knew the way to her like the back of his hand. She was buried next to the other Finches, Jeremy the First, and his wife, Simon Finch, ect. She was originally going to be buried in Montgomery next to Charlotte Graham, but it was concluded that Maycomb was her home more than Montgomery was.

Jeremy is soaked, so to sit in the mud in front of her fading headstone would make no difference. So he does so, and delicately rests the tulips against it. He stared at her engraved name, blinking vigorously.

He sits for hours, telling her anything and everything. How Atticus is planning on retiring the law business to him, how Jean Louise is mentally the splitting image of her, his Sarah.

When the rain stops and the cemetery grows dark he picks himself up before kissing his hand and placing it on the stone.

"Happy Mothers Day, Mama."