Her black laced hand was steady and confident as it led the brush across the canvas. Delicately she shaded with a deep mustard color under the bright golden rod trim of the house. This painting was almost done, she mused, imagining her mother standing proudly behind her. Her shoulders began to pang with a slight ach, causing her to lean back under the gentle shade of her pitched parasol. The back legs of her folding chair sunk unevenly into the rich brown soil that once was her mother's herb garden.

Closing her eyes Lucy caught the fading scent of wild roses drifting toward the house on the breeze. Lucy cast her electric grey eyes in the direction of the house, allowing them to settle on the two forms sitting idol on the terrace. Tossing the paintbrush onto the multi-color stained rag, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Like a memory breaking through time and reality, she heard the scolding tone of her mother's voice, informing her of the very unladylike habit she had picked up from her father. The corner of her mouth curled up into a crooked smirk as she observed Jake's hunched form similarly crossing his heavy arms over his tired chest.

It was in the portal of these tiny gestures that Lucy saw the remnants of the young man her father had once been. There was a reminiscent pause in the way the dim light in his eyes glossed over the auburn haired young one playing at his feet. Something akin to longing, Lucy thought, seeing nothing really attention grabbing in his line of sight. These moments made her feel heartsick for him. In these past few years since her mother had drifted off in her sleep, Jake had not been the same man.

There was a crippling sadness that dragged the corners of his eyes down, more so than age. Often she sat by him wishing for that dream like cheer that wound his lips up into that boyish smile, that gave you the tiniest flash of white teeth. However, that smile had been for her mother and not a soul after or before. Now she watched him as he slowly reached into the left breast of his old brown wool coat. There was a yellow glint that flashed in the shade of the terrace as he revealed the gold pocket watch he kept hidden in the small pocket of his silk vest. His once long fine fingers, curled involuntarily like white oak branches, as they dangled the golden bauble on its chain.

Lucy sat up straight relying on the stability of her rigid corset. She pursed her blush pink lips to one side, as she observed Jake letting the gold trinket fall into little Jacob's cupped hands. She rose to her feet feeling a harsh fear weighing down on her chest pulsating like a bouncing ball up the vein in her neck. Tingling with nausea Lucy approached the terrace her eyes shifting between Jacob and her father. The child turned the watch awkwardly in his dainty white hands, before looking questioningly up into his grandfather's dwindling eyes.

Just as Lucy reached the stone walkway, she froze as Jake shakily reached out his arm for her to come to him. As though of its own accord, Lucy's fist flew up, holding itself against her heart. She felt the rose scented breeze push gently at her back as she climbed the white stairs. Finally reaching the shade of the terrace Jacob's deep amber eyes met hers with confusion.

"Auntie Lucy, what's wrong with grandpa?" the boy clutched shakily at the gold watch, seeming to seek warmth from the cool metal.

Lucy fell to her knees as she allowed Jake to curl her into his weak arm. She tried to sink into his side, but she was no longer a child and so she settled with her hand pressed to his chest. His heart beat was so faint, that she drew her frightened brow up high, as she searched Jake's face.

"Jacob," she said without turning. "Go get your parents from the nursery, please. And hurry."

Lucy waited until her could hear the rushing thumps of his boots as he climbed the stairs inside. Remaining knelt at her father's feet, she felt the cool currents of tears as they ran unchecked down her cheeks. Her brows furrowed with sorrow as she watched his steel eyes stare fixedly at the empty space behind her. Mournfully she combed back the stray wisps of ash and white colored hair, with her fingers. Very slowly, as if he were only just becoming aware of her presence, Jake cocked his tired head to one side.

His hand reached up pulling a single silver pin from the midnight of her hair, freeing a fat glossy curl. With one white finger, he trembled as he twirled it around the silky black ribbon.

"You look just like her," he mused in a low husky tone.

Lucy felt her bottom lip quake as she swallowed back her sobs. She leaned into his embrace burying her face into his neck. Through the scratch of his slight stubble, she felt the cold softness of his skin against her cheek. However, his body felt warm and strong as he wrapped his woolen arms around her. Jake's curled hand soothingly caressed her back in short circles, as he did when she was small. Suddenly his voice vibrated next to her ears with the soft musical notes of his youth.

"Has my girl been crying?" there was a pause before his hands dropped limply at Lucy's sides.

She could taste the salt in her tears as they pooled on her lips, and he whispered his last word onto the air. Teresa. Lucy wept as she held her father's peaceful face in her hands. Her trembling lips pressed warmly against his closed lids, before she rested her forehead against his. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his familiar scent of leather, cigars, and cologne. With fat opalescent tears blurring her sight she pulled, the black lace gloves from her hands and tossed them to the floor. Lucy gathered up her father's hands in his lap as she settled at his feet, resting her cheek against his fingers.

"Oh Papa," she sobbed under her trembling body. "I love you with all my heart, Papa. . . She's been waiting for you."

A warm breeze scented with wild roses cast its loving embrace around Lucy's body before it drifted up into the house and back out into the bright afternoon sky. It stole away Jake's chuckling laughter, and the last essence of Jake's steely grey eyes.

While Lucy waited for the inevitable approach of her siblings, she breathed in her father's scent one last time. She remembered the flash of the auburn tint of his hair, the bright cheer of his slate grey eyes, and his crooked smile beaming under the shaded brim of his dark suede Stetson.

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Under the rustling shade of the moss green oak trees, a new head board stood fresh among the graying wood of the tombstones around it. They nestled together as they had in life, leaning towards one another as if in council. Jake Slicker was laid to rest beside his wife at last. His epitaph read:

Jacob Slicker a loving husband, father, and friend.

Lucy swallowed holding back the anguish she felt in her broken heart. Silently she whispered into the wind, "You're not alone anymore, Papa. Not anymore."