Disclaimer: Not mine SM owns the characters
Alice stood in front of a house that a part of her thought she would only see in pictures or in her memory ever again. Jasper quietly grabbed her hand as they stood next to the car.
"Are you sure about this?" Jasper asked, pulling her close and speaking into her hair.
Alice nodded. She felt like she had to do this, it had been so long, but there was something telling her it was necessary, "She's dying Jasper, I need to see her."
"Would you like me to come in with you?" Alice shook her head but the unbelievably tight grip she had on his hand told him different. He slowly, and hesitantly let go of her and they walked up the house s front porch stairs. They knocked on the door.
"Yes?" a girl with dark brown hair answered.
She was stressed out, it seemed and her eyes had bags under them along with being blood-shot.
"Hello my name is Jasper and this is my wife Alice," Jasper started. The brunette looked at him strangely before nodding, "My parents were friends with your mother, Cynthia?"
The girl nodded again, "I'm sorry, she's not in much of a condition to see people right now,"
She started to close the door, but Alice put a hand up to stop her. "Please," She stared at the girl and Jasper tried to calm his wife as she spoke again. "My parents aren't able to say good-bye right now and they-they will be broken to find out I couldn't say good-bye for them. "
The girl stared at them for another second before sighing and opening the door, "Alright, come in. I think she just woke up." The girl led Alice and Jasper into a sitting room, "Wait here."
Without looking to see if they took a seat the girl walked into her mother s room.
"Mama?" she asked politely, if her mother answered, she would tell her. If she didn't she would send the couple away.
"Yes, Mary?" Cynthia answered in a scratchy old voice, turning away from the window in her wheel-chair.
"Someone wants to visit you, should I tell them to come in?" Mary said softly.
"Yes, of course," Her mother answered.
Mary stepped back and asked the couple to follow her to her mothers room. The old woman simply stared at Alice for the longest time before telling Mary to leave them alone for a while. She sighed, but stepped out of the room and closed the door nonetheless.
"Mary?" Cynthia asked, grasping blindly for her hand.
Alice grabbed and squeezed her little sisters hand lightly, "Yes.
Cynthia stared at her sister, "I-I-I thought you were dead," She said. Alice leaned over to hug her sister; Cynthia squeezed Alice tight for her old age.
"I am," Alice replied quietly.
"You're beautiful," Cynthia said, and turned in her wheelchair to get a better look at her sister.
Alice smiled warmly, "Thank you,"
"And cold." Cynthia said, "Where did I put that blanket?" she asked herself and wheeled herself around.
"You aren't surprised?" Jasper asked quietly from beside Alice.
The old woman quickly regarded Jasper, "No," she replied shortly, and gave up on her search for her blanket, "I knew it had to be coming one of these days for the angels to tell me it's time to go home," she sighed, "Mary, I am so sorry," she said, rolling over to Alice again, "I wanted to see you, I did, but Mother and Father, they-"
"It's okay," Alice said quietly, "I forgave you long ago,"
"I went to your funeral," Cynthia continued, paying no attention that she had heard, "Though they didn't want me to, I went, I still place flowers every year, I was going to go tomorrow," She grabbed the vase next to her table with old shriveled fingers and handed Alice a white rose from the vase, "white roses," Cynthia smiled at Alice (who though she was sitting in a wheel-chair still almost came to the height of), "I always leave white roses," she said softly.
Alice smiled and sat on a chair next to her sister who turned herself toward her, "They always reminded me of you," Cynthia told her, "White roses."
Alice regarded her sister for another moment. She was wrinkled, but her grip was strong. Her eyes held a fire that she was slightly famliar with, but her eyes also held bits of suffering. Alice sent a quick fleeting glance at Jasper and the bits of suffering disappeared.
"How have you been?" She asked Cynthia.
"I married a wonderful man, Peter, you would've liked him..."
Alice listened sharply to every detail that Cynthia said and reminded her of where she was when she forgot. Jasper stood silent and slightly protective next to Alice. After a while Cynthia had finally had enough and turned her sights on Jasper.
"Who are you?" She asked him.
"This is Jasper," Alice said, "He's my husband," she smiled brightly at Cynthia and Jasper.
Cynthia laughed, "That was nice it's been a while since I've laughed,"
Alice looked at her confused, "What?"
"I had a feeling you would marry but it's surprising how much he looks like my Peter," she wheeled around and grabbed a picture next to her night-stand, "This was us before we were married." The picture showed that of Cynthia when her hair was still dark and young next to a lean nice looking man who looked a great deal like Jasper himself.
Alice laughed and Jasper joined. When they stopped, Cynthia was looking at them with a star-struck look in her eyes, "You two are perfect together, any one could see that."
The hours passed quickly and each of them laughed more and more as the day passed on. Mary would walk in to give her mother her medicine and listen to a few more stories of her mother and her mothers friends kids; stories she never would have thought she'd hear.
Eventually Cynthia got a tired look in her eyes and asked to be lay down in her bed, which Jasper helped her with. He grabbed a huge comforter and tucked it around her. They looked at the clock, "We've been here for seven hours," Jasper said, surprised, "I think it's time for us to leave." He grabbed Alice's hand and Alice leaned over on the bed to kiss her sisters forehead.
"I love you, Mary," Cynthia whispered only loud enough for Alice to hear, but Jasper heard as well.
"I love you too, Cynthia," she whispered back and tucked the cover completely around her.
Without further warning Cynthia errupted quickly into a fit, throwing the covers off of her. Alice grabbed her sisters hand, her eyes wide as Mary ran to grab the phone.
"The Ambulence will be here in about five minutes," Alice closed her eyes and willed the pain away from her sister, if there was anything she wanted her sister to have it was a peacful passing.
Almost instantly Jasper calmed the old woman and she stared at them before turning to her daughter, "Mary I love you," she whispered.
Mary threw her arms around her mother sobbing, "No, you can't," she cried.
Cynthia turned her blurry off-focused eyes to Alice and Jasper, "Angels," she whispered, "Hush now, the angels have arrived, they will watch over you." she said clearly before falling into her eternal slumber.
Alice, Jasper, and Mary stood before the grave of Cynthia Savannah Brandon. Mary, at loss for words, hugged Alice until she had cried herself out before thanking them and leaving a daisy on her mothers grave.
Jasper and Alice stood alone in front of the grave and Jasper grabbed Alice's hand.
"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.
"One more moment," Alice said and walked forward toward the grave.
She laid a hand over the top of it before leaning down to leave a rose on the dirt. "A white rose," she repeated, "Always a white rose," she stood up finally and turned to Jasper. Signaling she was ready, he grabbed her hand and they walked quietly away together.
A/N: The point of the White Rose is it means purity and innocence
Thank you to DarkAngelSerenity for the editing of my grammer ^_^