Present: 5:30 pm

The day was an already dreaded pool of emotional turmoil. As being a step-dad, as fast as Henry had become, it couldn't have been any easier these days in a gossiping town as small as this one; amid losing a loved one, it can get overwhelmingly fast for the weak at heart. Luckily for Henry he had had a lifetime of building such strengths up for hardships as this.

After all, his own family had gone on their separate lives seemingly careless, after he had chosen to leave his hometown to be with the man he had fallen in love with.
It was just as well. Those 'people' he had begun to think of them as, were bat dung crazy enough without him having to be anywhere near.

The priest began his speech, feeding into Henry's sudden daydreaming.

Henry's hand fell to his side, helpless in the manner of being unusable and as he did so, he felt the tiny wriggling of fingers sweeping across his palm.

It was an act which gave a tug at Henry's heart and almost convinced a tear to shed but as easy as crying seems to be for everyone else, showing emotion had become a sign of weakness throughout his life, which Henry saught to never falter towards.

Elsewhere, the older of the two children from a previous marriage of Henry's husband Andrew, Caterina had observed her little brother's valiant behavior, so it was only a sibling rivalry's duty to reciprocate the same. Besides letting him get all the attention from her new step-father, was the last thing she was going to let happen.

Unknowingly to Henry, of the children's on-going war between them; the sympathetic effort from them both wasn't unseen, or in this case, felt - as it warmed his heart to core; whereas in this tragic moment in life, that he has found a bit of peace within himself, being surrounded by family - his family.

Henry had always fantasized of having his very own family. He wasn't completely crazy with the notion. Anything could happen right?

Roughly a year ago

Henry had been casually browsing along the coffee isle of a market. Not the market closer to his home at the time, but the nicer one. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but, had the intuition to go here instead. On this day, he had to be here - why wasn't clear. Turning the corner to a hearts unplanned collision; a tall, ravishing gentleman offering a helping hand to getting Henry back onto his feet. Later Henry would see an epic bruise on his right bottom cheek, but, it didn't faze him for the moment.

The striking man nuzzling him right then and there.

'I want to ask you something..." he began. "...and I've already made the decision for you... I thought it were to be considerate to still ask..."

Henry's began to speed up uncontrollably beneath his chest; he had an inclination of what the eluded question had been, but, considering everything always seemingly to go awry, and jinx either possibility he had conjured it up to be, he said nothing - let alone - now he worried of thinking it.

A casual and suspicious conclusion drew on Henry's face.

"...I want you to be with me tonight and every night we can have together... I want to wake up to you next to me... I love you so much..." A tender touch of fingers traced his jaw line. "...move in with me." Hazel eyes, mirroring between sky and rain-forest colors brimmed of emotion. He waited for Henry's answer.

Though, Henry didn't want to come off as to quickly in his decision, he had no choice but to go with the somersaulted gut reaction. "I'd like nothing more."

Present: 6 pm

With the last prayers being said, He and Henry took a single rose to which they were both given earlier and placed it onto the casket to forever belong to the open earth below. Strange that no single tear had left either eye of Henry. It was as though, he'd been cut of any formation of moisture in his body. He was sure the family and friends questioned if he held a heart behind his ribs. Andrew has so easily let go and gave in to his own emotional feed; where was Henry's at? All that depressional crying in his youth must've dried up any conserved.

Henry didn't mean to let go Connell's tiny hand - it was one of those things. He figured he would stay there, wobbling back and forth with his favorite toy, as they said their last goodbyes. Returning precisely to where he had been next to Connell, Henry left down his hand again, this time, in anticipation of those wonderful small limbs - but, after a few seconds, there were no fingers tracing the lines within Henry's palm. Henry glanced down to the left, to an empty space - Connell was gone, turning to his right to find Cat, obviously next to Andrew, she too had been GONE!

Tossing his eyes around, bouncing off suites and Sunday best dresses, to setting his auburns onto her gentle face; she was sitting with her cousin, Sarah (Andrew's side) roughly the same age as herself. Henry relieved only briefly as he thought of the other face he had become so familiar with - Connell. There wasn't any sign of the little boy that could. Always on the go, that one.

Henry kept an eye on her, while the interactions with family were as endless as an Indie film. After a comforting hug from his mother-in-law, giving her goodbyes to head off to her home, a town over the county line. He suddenly had an intuitive feeling of the worse happening to Connell. But, it's not like no other parent on earth has let their mind wander to the point of forgetting about the fruit of your loins - if you haven't you are a damn liar.

A panic settled in the pits of an already seized up stomach; another tragic loss; I can't lose someone else; I think my heart would cave-in and sink into the gratuitously soft ground.

Not wanting to let on & cause a scene; he slowly and methodically backed from his partners side, wandering away, unnoticed. Walking behind a shield of towering spruce and pine, moving as fast as his suit and maintained calves would travel; whisking through the slowly turning summer air; headstone after weathered headstone (some as old as the town itself) till finally, bending around the corner in a huff; coming to an abrupt stand still, as a familiar giggle traveled in the arms of the wind - there he sat, Indian style, upon newly established zoysiagrass "...a golfers paradise to play on." My mother-in-law always says. There was a slight envy, that not only feet away from all this death, here this little boys wonder can play amongst them, and bat not an eye at it; to withdraw from the practices that we bigger ones tend to find ourselves wrapped in, as they grow 'older.' Henry secretly became jealous for a second of Connell's unacknowledging attribute. When did my own obliviousness go?

The crazy conception that he had just gave in to bits of green with the little boy, made a chuckle gurgle from Henry's throat; the first semi-laugh he managed in the few days passed - suppose unawareness wasn't too far out of his reach.

Leaving the last thought there next to an incredibly battered marble structure, with the name Bobby Shelton barely recognizable in the short, yet, sweet epitaph, 'here lies that Jerk.' Suppose he didn't make man of the year to whom ever put him down. Pacing from the unfortunate soul that was stuck with that title for centuries to come, Henry coolly trekked up the minor slant of hill to Connell.

Stopping just behind him, inspecting over the tiny framed shoulders - where the back of the youngsters slate blue suit was all that could be perceived beforehand; the soil had been disturbed or raked away by the indications of the marks clearly made. It isn't unusual for a kid, especially an adventurous kid, to be hands deep in earth, but, to be doing it in a graveyard - well, that's creepier than Oh, honey! Look, he's making dirt cakes!

Kneeling to the child's side, after his position had been made out, Henry reciprocated the smile that began extending on Connells chubby cheeks. "Hey, sweetie..."

"Helwo..."

"Did you dig that?" pointing to the disrupted soil. It was a deeper hole than he had been observant of before.

"...Nope." He mumbled, still marveling his findings.

"Connell, it's okay if you did... I won't be mad." Henry trying to be as soothing to his step-child.

"I didn't poppy." He remarked tittering. That secret word he and Henry had discussed to call him, if he chose; he was listening that lazy afternoon, where they had watched every cartoon movie under the sun, or at least from his big sister's stash; while they had been home alone.

The set of innocence sparkled beneath the suns glaring grin; hands covered in smudge and filth. In the grit and palms scattered not one; nor two; or even three, but numerous hard and grotesque (almost, abnormally structured) bugs. The collected squeals of arthropods spiraled a chill down Henry's vertebrae.

"The're just buss, Poppy..." Connell chirped, after seeing his step-daddy's funny face. "...The're no hurt us."

After hearing the adorableness coming from Connell, Henry all but let it go. How could you stay upset with a face like that? With this day almost being an out-of-body experience; and then to hear the 'Daddy' word; the emotions had built to their maximum limit, and Henry was putty in his kid's hands.

7 pm

Whipping the curtain back and reaching for one of the warn out grey towels, Henry caught a glimpse of memory, as he remembered they had kept two different sets of towels, simply because the faster drying ones were not a favorite of his. '...they feel weird on my skin.' He said out loud. 

A slight grimace of a smirk splitting his mouth. It's funny what comes sauntering from back behind the forgotten curtain. Gripping his eyes taught, pushing the grey fabric hard against his face.  Suddenly, throwing the towel across the bathroom, in protest of the sensation walking across his damp skin. 

A BUG! 

One of those from the graveyard.  Strolling cautiously nude to have a looksy over the pile of clothes, he'd immediately shoved off as they arrived home.  Had one those shits got in his clothes? He shivered at the thought, of having driven with it catching a ride in some crevasse against him. 

Picking the little bastard off the disheveled towel; turning to hurl it down into the bottom of the shower tub; turning the knob to a still scorching scald, pleased as the steaming water sent away the tiny devil.

Quickly, pulling on briefs; then mesh shorts, as well as a tank - his usual lounge attire.  He picked up the disregarded clothes on floor, inspecting them until satisfaction had settled his brief insanity of thinking of more bugs were to come.  Sighing in relief, he tossed them into the hamper close by.  Walking out into the dark room just out of the light from the previous room. 

Slapping down onto the couch, Henry rummaged through the channels, with no luck of anything worth while of watching.  The flashing screen slammed to a halt, as a flutter caught Henry's eye as being more than a rerun of an old sitcom. 

Standing with his hands upon his hips, turning his disconsolate to an apprehensive gesture.

Swiftly making his way towards the flat screen, the familiar shape, and screeching noise echoed within the room. "Another one?!" 

Grabbing it as he had the previous brethren, he escorted in hand, into the kitchen, placing it underneath the rubber safety guard; turning the switch as he remembered the machine as a pain in the ass, when it broke the day they had been cooking seafood - a smell, nostrils, can never forget.

He listened as it shredded and crunched the bitty creature, along with any remainders from food brought over from consoling friends and family; the harshness sound came as a relief as it ran until clear.  

That's two of the exact same vermin.  Never a good sign.