Once we were out of Quinn's hearing, he hissed in my ear. "Nice of you to come, but you're upsetting my wife. Sign the guestbook and go."
Mr. Thomas dropped my arm and went to greet better guests. I rubbed my elbow and realized he had shoved me towards the door. There was no guestbook that I could see.
Instead, there were large collages of Sienna. Her photogenic life had been carefully curated and mounted to best highlight her successes. Other guests gushed over the beauty and the achievements, but I could not see it.
A proud picture of her with a glistening show horse and a trophy looked perfect. I cringed as I remembered Sienna telling me how she hated her first horse. She lied and told the trainer it had bitten her so she could ride a better one. The trainer had taken her at her word and sold the horse to a trail ride farm up north.
Her prize science fair display looked like the perfection of a curious and intelligent mind. To me, it signified being stood up two times in one week. Then, Sienna had accused me of trying to sabotage her work by guilting her.
Then, there was the bake sale photograph and accompanying newspaper article. I knew Quinn had baked those cookies. Hours after the fundraiser was over, Sienna refused to get out of her bed. She was so depressed at being outdone by someone else that she did not speak to Quinn for days.
Not only had Quinn let her older sister take the credit, she had spent days trying to lift Sienna out of her selfish funk. I had one foot out of the door but stopped. The least I could do was stay and make sure Quinn was alright.
She was standing off to the side in her own living room. Her mother and father had given her seat away to a prominent neighbor. I was partially disgusted by her parents' heartlessness. The other part was delighted that she was within reach.
"This seat taken?" I asked.
Quinn shifted along the wall and almost smiled. It faded as the hired priest moved to stand in front of the fireplace. The packed room grew quiet.
"A great light amongst us has gone out. And we may feel as empty and cold as this unlit fireplace," the priest gestured behind him awkwardly, "but together we will stay warm."
It’s 86 degrees out, I thought.
"Sienna Thomas was a caring, thoughtful, and ambitious woman. She had her sights set on becoming a surgeon so she could help those among us that needed to be healed," the priest said.
Quinn shifted from one foot to the other. She refused to look at me, but I knew the greeting card version of Sienna's life bothered her. Within days, her sister had skyrocketed into sugarcoated memories and ideal assumptions. Her real sister was fading away.
"When her life was tragically struck down by a drunk driver on her college campus, we all felt a deep and abiding loss," the priest droned on.
Quinn stood up, her pale face covered in shock. I took her hand and squeezed. If she said something now, it would only ruin her. Sienna's memory was perfect, unmarred by the truth. There was no way Quinn could change that without destroying herself.
"It’s not right," she whispered to me.
"It’s easier for your parents, for everyone," I told her.
"I was there. I saw. Nothing's going to make that easier for me, especially not some lie that blames someone else for her death," Quinn hissed.
I held her hand harder. She had not given me many details on the phone. I certainly did not know Quinn had seen Sienna's body before the coroner covered her. My mind reeled the rest of the service.
I had no idea what bothered me the most about Quinn seeing Sienna like that. The crowd of mourners finally moved on through the dining room and into the backyard for refreshments. I found myself alone with a few stranglers ringed around the edge of the living room. I walked up to Sienna's open casket.
She looked perfect – her makeup a little too thick and her lips a little too red, but perfect.
"Hey, beautiful. Remember how a long time ago you asked me to tell you when you were behaving rotten? I gotta call you out one last time. You knew someone was going to find you. Either your roommate or your sister. What an awful thing to put on someone else. You didn't think of that, did you? You probably had this whole damned funeral planned down to the photographs and flowers. But you didn't think for one second what you'd be doing to other people. She saw you, Sienna. Like that. Makes me glad you're gone. You can't hurt me or Quinn anymore."
I stepped back and swiped away the angry tears. Across the room, closer than she should have been, Quinn stared at me wide-eyed. I swallowed hard and hoped she did not hear what I had said.
#
It was time to go. I turned to make a break for the front door only to bump into a wall of former classmates.
"Weird high school reunion, huh?" Ben said. He had been the captain of the football team. The same irritated estimation from our teenage years was in his eyes as he looked me over. He still could not understand why Sienna chose me over him.
Ben was my height with buzzed brown hair. His square jaw and cleft chin could have put him in those mail order sweater catalogs. He'd gone on to college with a football scholarship and had not changed one bit.
"What are you up to these days?" he asked. "Is there a market for being too cool for school?"
His cronies, a trio of Ben knockoffs at various heights, laughed.