Gregg Hurwitz - The Survivor

Morning light suffused the kitchen, bleaching the walls, buffing the counter to a high shine and lending the room a bright afterworld tint. Wearing the pressed blouse and plaid skirt of her private-school uniform, Cielle perched on one of the barstools, spooning oatmeal into her mouth and staring thoughtfully through the wide doorway into the living room. Above the mantel the old family portrait hung at a minor tilt. She and Janie had restored it to its rightful place the previous night in a quiet impromptu ceremony. There had been no words, just the two of them working in concert to balance on the stool, lift the heavy frame, and guide the hanging wire home.

Afterward they’d stood for a time gazing up, holding hands.

Now Cielle breathed the morning quiet and ate her breakfast. Her face was as pretty as ever, and full, though not as full as it had been.

Footfalls descended the stairs, and then Janie emerged, rubbing one eye with the heel of her hand and stifling a yawn. Passing behind Cielle, she gave her daughter’s neck an affectionate squeeze, and Cielle caught her hand and clasped it. Janie paused, followed Cielle’s stare across to the portrait, and they took a collective moment. The three of them preserved in a crisp photograph, cracking up, the frame still slightly askew.

Janie started up the coffeemaker, leaning over it on locked arms as it percolated, and then she filled her mug and sipped, her eyes wistful. Cielle finished her breakfast, washed the bowl in the sink, and they headed together for the garage. The door closed behind them.

A moment later it opened again.

Cielle came back in, crossed to the living room, and, lifting a solitary finger, straightened the family portrait. She studied it a moment, her features heavy with remembrance, and then a private memory flickered beneath the surface, firming her cheeks, bringing up an incipient smile. She jogged back out, lighter on her feet.

The door swung shut.

The sun lifted above the east-facing windows, softening the quality of light.

The house sat at peace.