A few days later, at the funeral

Two days later and your 'mother's' funeral finally arrived, the day being pretty much everything you'd been dreading and more. Sitting in the church, surrounded by your family and friends, listening to the minister's sermon while staring at the large casket containing your mom's former body was truly a surreal and uncomfortable experience, feeling in some ways like a complete and utter fraud, yet at the same time, deeply saddened by the realization that your life and your mother's life would now be inexplicable changed forever. There really was no going back now.

Though she was not actually in attendance, your mother having decided, along with your father, that it would be best if she stayed at home (neither of them being ready yet to unveil her new form to the world), her presence was of course felt, and at points you could even feel yourself slightly tearing up, especially by the graveside as you listened to the minster's words, talking about her in a way that made it indeed seem like she was truly gone. You weren't the only one either, noting a similar look on your little sister's face, and on your father's especially, who at one point you were certain was going to physically break down and cry (aware that this was certainly not acting).

It was somewhat of a relief then when you got to the wake, managing to let off some steam by grabbing a few glasses of wine. You knew you probably shouldn't, still being only 18 and all, but it had been that kind of day and you didn't think anyone would begrudge you a drink or two, especially as it helped you deal with all the people offering their sympathies and telling you what a 'fine woman' your mother was. Thankfully it was not all doom and gloom, as Allison and Randall were also there, and though they of course were in a similar position as everyone else (unaware of the truth), they did manage at times to take your mind off things; the three of you laughing and joking a little like you always did.

Once it was all over and the four of you headed for home in the car, you tried to console your little brother and sister by repeating what your mother had told you, telling them that "things would be much easier now", but getting the impression from their responses that they really didn't believe that.

Returning home, your mother immediately appeared to greet you all, dressed in a pair of your father's ill fitting pajamas and a dressing gown, an ensemble that she'd worn on quite a few occasions now, when she was left alone by herself and had grown frustrated with finding clothes of her own that would fit.

"So, how did everything go?" she asked as you all shuffled through the door.

"It went," your father responded, seeming not particularly in the mood to talk about it.

Seeing as nobody else was really talking much; your sister mentioning that it was "weird" and your brother simply giving a grunt and a shrug before heading up the stairs, you decided to be the one to fill your mother in on what exactly had happened, informing her of who all was there and what kind of things the minister said, before inquiring if she was alright (it surely being a upsetting feeling, knowing that your former body was now lying six feet under in the dirt).

"Me? Oh I'm fine," she told you, still putting on that brave face, "I spent my day cleaning and doing crosswords, so I imagine I got the easier end of the deal."

Chuckling somewhat awkwardly at this, your mother then told you to go get changed while she talked to your father and then got the dinner ready and you complied, being more than glad to get out of your suit and back into some semblance of normality again.

The days that followed the funeral did thankfully prove a little easier on everyone, if only for the fact that the visits from people weren't quite so frequent and you didn't have all the arrangements and stuff to worry about. Your mom busied herself with cleaning and doing chores she had long since put off, and your dad once again spent most of his time in his study, still going over bills and accounts and things (or at least that was what he told you). Your sister finally got to venture out to see her friends and David similarly spent a lot of time over at his new girlfriend's, while you yourself did manage to take a trip to the cinema with Allison and Randall, the two of them once again trying to take your mind off things, which you greatly appreciated.

Arriving home after the movie though, you discovered your parents in the middle of...well not quite a row exactly, but more of a heated discussion as you walked into the living room and saw them talking in the kitchen.

"I just don't think it's such a good idea right now, Jenn, okay?" your father said, looking rather uncomfortable, "And I really don't know why you'd want to go out there anywhere."

"Because I need to, Paul. I need clothes," your mother responded, much more forcefully, cluing you into what exactly this discussion was about, "I can't go around for the rest of my life wearing your old pajamas and shirts, I need something that fits!"

This was clearly to do with going to Stephanie's house, just as you and your mom had talked about in her bedroom a few days before the funeral, and it appeared from what you could see anyway that your dad wasn't exactly up for the idea, telling your mother, "So we'll buy you something then."

"Okay, when? When will you?"

"I don't know. Once things settle down. Once it's the right time for you to be..you know, seen in public."

"And when is that going to be?" your mother countered, trying not to sound frustrated, but it clearly coming through, "I feel like I'm a prisoner or something. Trapped in this house by a husband who's too ashamed to be seen with me!"

"I'm...I'm not ashamed," your father stuttered, though not really having anything to follow it up with, "It's...it's just that..."

"It's just what?" This stumped him for a moment, and as he struggled to think up some excuse, your mother just stood there watching him with her arms crossed beneath her massive chest.

"It's just going to take some time to get used to, that's all," he finally answered, clearly flustered he was even having this conversation at all and quickly turning it again away from himself. "Anyway, going to that...that woman's house isn't something you should really be thinking about. We should just wash our hands of it. Sell it and forgot it even exists. The same with everything else that belonged to her."

"But I need things, Paul," your mom practically pleaded, "I need her I.D. I need credit cards and a social security number, I need her car...and God knows what else! I can't just write off that whole woman's life, no matter what she did."

This was the point however that the suddenly noticed you standing there, through the kitchen door, and looking rather relieved by your presence, your father happily smiled, "Tim! Hey there buddy, when did you get back?"

"Uhm, just a minute ago," you responded, feeling rather awkward at having walked in on this, your mother's expression indicating that you'd probably be best off heading somewhere else, "I'm...I'm not interrupting am I?"

Seeing a means of escape, your father then said, "No, of course not," much to your mom's annoyance, beckoning you into the kitchen. "Why don't you help your mother with the dinner while I go uh, help Bill next door with his lawnmower. I promised I'd give him a hand yesterday."

And with that he made a quick exit, telling your mom that, "we'll uh, we''ll talk about this later," as he went, leaving you standing there staring at your clearly upset mother, not entirely sure what you should do.