Blueberry Muffins

I crossed the road and entered the park. The grass was greener than it had been the last time I was here, the trees had started to regrow their leaves. A faint hint of blossom was creeping on some of the branches. It was truly Spring now, though the air was still crisp; as if Winter was sending whispers to the wind like a jilted lover. The silver ring around my index finger felt cold and began to irritate my skin, so I carefully removed it and placed it in the pocket of my long woollen coat. 

I found the bench. It sat in a small garden, separated from the noise of the football fields and tennis courts one had to walk through on the way. The garden was bordered by a grey stone wall, mottled with flint. This bench was the third one from the gate. It was the one we always used. The varnish was peeling but it was in good condition. No broken pieces, safe to sit on. It had a small memorial plaque on the back but I could never remember the name of who it was honouring. I took my usual spot and proceeded to lay out the picnic I’d brought on the wood beside me. My hands working fast against the cold. Fresh bread, hummus and of course, the famous blueberry muffins baked by my sister Kate at the local bakery. I took a sip of the thermos and set it beside the arrangement. Just ahead of me, the small bell that sat in the church tower chimed once for 1 pm. 

As the clang sounded, the air became still. The sunlight creating patterns through shifting trees on the floor of the garden froze. The wind stopped and the small petal of pale pink blossom falling from the apple tree just beside the bench seemed to pause in midair. It always baffled me to see time stop in this way, even though I’d seen it many times before. I was never sure if it did completely or if I was just daydreaming it. 

‘Pour the tea then’ came a soft voice out of sight. I turned my head and saw a familiar face coming towards me. Her gold hair reflected the sun as she approached, with each step her cheeks became rosier and her smile wider. 

‘Right on time.’ I responded with a smile as I took the lid off the thermos bid her request, pouring the mixture into two mugs I’d swiped from the kitchen earlier that day. I passed the yellow one; it had always been her favourite. 

‘The time isn’t really negotiable.’ Jess and I had been meeting once a month for the last three years, always here, always at 1 pm on the first Sunday of each month. At first, we had made an effort to make every one, but as life went on I had found it difficult to keep up my end of the bargain. My career was moving forward, I had to be away from home the last few months so I wasn’t able to make our meetings, which I could tell had left an air of awkwardness around our rendezvous. 

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t make it for the last couple of months.’ I offered. I looked down and busied my hands with the appetisers, waiting for Jess to take a seat so I could assess the level of damage. I needn’t have worried. She grinned a terrific grin and tipped her head back in the sun, as she reclined, radiating a tremendous amount of energy. She had always had some sort of gravitational pull, It was slightly more concentrated now. Not quite gravity, but a strong force all the same. 

‘It’s okay Roo, I know when you’re coming and when you’re not.’ she looked at me then, staring down my soul with her blue eyes and I felt a chill go through me, as I always did when we locked eye contact. ‘Just call it a special intuition.’ She tapped her finger to her forehead, prompting us to laugh and forget any of the awkwardness that may have lingered. 

‘There’s a nice amount of whiskey in this.’ Her face grimacing slightly as she swallowed. ‘My tastebuds may be dead but they’re not that dead. Are those Kate’s blueberry muffins?’ 

‘The one and only.’

‘Ah god, I miss these. I love it when you bring them. Do you know, I think these are the only reasons I come.’ I watch as she talks and the crumbs from the soft baked goods fall from her mouth. Oblivious to her mess. ‘I miss Kate.’

‘Should you really be saying ‘god’ like that? You could always call her’

‘I can say what I want. You know it doesn’t work like that, you’re the only one I can call.’ I pretended to roll my eyes at her explanation, finishing with a toothy smile to let her know I was joking. With three years of whiskey-infused tea, blueberry muffins and shooting the breeze, we had managed to set the perimeter of what was acceptable to laugh and joke about. ‘You’re different,’ she continued. ‘Besides, you just hear it, the first time was an accident.’ 

As time passed I caught her up on the ongoings on our small town. The shops that closed, the ones that opened. How Ms Jenkin’s son had taken over her flower shop and was making all sorts of creative arrangements. How our friend from school Mo had become a qualified doctor and finally started his own practice. 

‘Lizzie and Gen have ended things.’ I mentioned, off the cuff. But as I turned to face Jess, I realised my mistake as I saw the colour from her face had gone, leaving her pale skin almost translucent. Goosebumps prickled my skin as the hair stood up to help combat the cold. 

‘Oh Jess, I forgot mentioning them might be triggering for you.’ She looked up at me again, sending another wave of ice through my body. I shivered and wrapped the scarf around my neck again to counteract it.

‘Oh sorry, I forgot that affects you.’ I waved her off with a short flick of the hand and leaned forward as an invitation for her to continue. ‘No, honestly, I’m fine. It’s not like you can get depressed when you’re already dead. What am I gonna do, go to a paranormal support group? Pretty sure that’s what you are.’ 

‘That’s true.’ We laughed for a bit longer, nibbling on the muffins and drinking the dredges of the Hot Toddy I had mixed until the flask was left with tea leaves and slices of ginger. The hummus sat untouched, as I suspected it would. The bench was covered in crumbs from the muffins. Jess had always had a sweet tooth.

‘Our time’s almost up.’ Jess rose from the bench, dusting off imaginary debris from the blue jeans she was always dressed in. ‘It takes a lot of otherwordly energy to do this.’ 

‘Ah yes. All that energy. It’s not like you use it for anything else.’ I stood up to face her and took her in an embrace. She was cold to the touch, but it was never unpleasant to hold her. 

‘Will I see you next week?’ 

‘I hope so.’

‘I’ll call you. See you later sis. Take care of yourself, okay?’ I nodded as she backed away from me. As she stepped onto the stone of her grave her foot sank, and piece by piece I watched her body disappear in front of the marker where her name was etched into stone. 

Once she had fully dissolved into the small patch of land that had promised to hold her for all eternity, I felt the breeze spring back to life. The sun danced in patterns on the ground as the branches of the trees began to sway again. The blossom reached its resting place on the floor and the sound from the church bell finally stopped reverberating in the grounds around it. 

I looked at my watch, though I knew full well what the time was. 1 pm. I packed the thermos and the remains of the picnic into my canvas tote bag and walked out of the cemetery, back into the lively open space containing kids playing games and dogs running after sticks. I took a breath of fresh air and headed for home, hoping the delivery I scheduled hadn’t arrived before the 2 pm window.