Tara was stubborn. So very stubborn that even the fat, wet snowflakes that had begun to blanket her shoulders and sting her nose didn’t stir her to move. She was determined to discover some truths today and if she became a living snowman – woman – in the process; then that was fine by her.
One benefit the snow, she thought as she licked a flake from her lip, was how it seemed to illuminate the field in front of her. Field, right. Who was she kidding? She was standing in the middle of a cemetery. She snorted at her own delusion, chided herself for always romantizing everything. She was in a damn cemetery trying to discover who was leaving flowers at her mother’s gravesite. This was not romantic; it was creepy and borderline illegal. She was certain there were laws about lurking in a cemetery after dark.
Tara flattened herself against a large obelisk as headlights slowly crossed over snow and headstone, creating a diamond effect that momentarily held her gaze. It was beautiful and tragic at once. Glittery ice crystals playing on the surface of new fallen snow was the beautiful part. Freezing your ass off on a wild goose chase was decidedly tragic. But she had to know. In the last nine months since her mother’s passing, a dozen yellow roses had been delicately placed upon the hard granite headstone. They weren’t just materializing there on their own; someone was doing it. Tara was going to find out.
A large, dark SUV slowly cut through the snow pushing drifts to each side with its large wheels. Slowly the vehicle made the semi-circle pass towards the corner where generations of her family had been laid to rest. Tara felt her breath hitch in her chest. She was on the verge of discovery; a deep hidden secret about to be revealed. Breath would come later; she needed to know now.
The lights cut and the darkness momentarily blinded her so that when the figure exited, Tara could not plainly see the man. Once her eyes adjusted once again to the twilight, she observed a tall, well-built man with very large bundle of yellow held in his fist. He pulled the collar of his wool coat tightly around his neck and looked in Tara’s direction, his eyes seemingly locked on her. Surely, he couldn’t see her; she was completely hidden behind the monument. There was just no way. Yet there he stood; frozen in time, looking straight at her.
For reasons she could not fathom, Tara stepped out from behind the granite and faced her mother’s visitor. It was difficult to see his features clearly through the snowfall but soon recognition settled over her and she approached the man. No fear shown on her face; no cowardice, no hesitation. She stopped no further than a few inches away from the stranger and looked into sparkling blue eyes.
It was like looking in the mirror. At last she had found her father.