It worried Eddie how uncomfortable she was with waking up alone in bed. It worried her more that Axel wasn't in the hotel room at all when she looked around. No shower running, bathroom empty. Last time she'd seen him in there had been the night before anyway—the wine hadn't lasted long in his stomach, nor did the room service that Eddie had ordered for both of them.

needed to go for a walk. didn't want to wake you. shouldn't be long. i'll bring food. Was the text she received two hours prior. It didn't take her long to figure out what that meant and catch a cab there. Only stopped to buy a bouquet at a stand on the corner of a street. Tipped the driver and the florist more than she needed to.

Eddie found Axel among the headstones on 500 Canterbury Street, sitting cross-legged on the ground. She approached him cautiously, tried to get into his peripheral so he could see her coming from as far away as she could manage. When he noticed her, he wiped his face quickly with his hand. Bit his lip as more tears fell. Not that she would've criticized his feelings, but she gave him a moment to compose himself as she laid the flowers down in front of the headstone.

Wordlessly, Eddie sat beside him; she knew who he was visiting but that didn't make the etching any less hard to see, even from an outside perspective.

ROSE JAMES-CANTERBURY

10.10.1964 - 03.08.2012

Beloved mother and wife

There was a small inscription at the top of the headstone. Each word on a different line. time / my / fighting / with. That corner was weathered unlike any of the others. Like it had been held close versus simply looked at. The words lined up perfectly with Axel's tattoo—Eddie had memorized it, after all.

Eddie put a hand on Axel's shoulder and rubbed it with her thumb—maybe one day, she'd weather him down too. After all, she was corrosive.

Not enough to deter him. He rested his head on her shoulder. Nobody commented on how he was louder than he wanted to be while he attempted to stifle his tears. Eddie wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Ran her hand up and down. Wished there was a way to make it better—knew deep down there never would be.

It was sunny that day, which was strange because Axel's spirit had never felt greyer. It felt wrong that the sun came up; that it wasn't stormy. That Eddie hadn't woken up beside him and been able to bury him in a thousand kisses to promise him that they'd make that day better than the previous one had been. The sun came out despite the internal rain and there was nothing she could do to push away his clouds. And so, they sat there. Let the rain fall down Axel's cheeks as they rode out the storm.

His hair shone like sunshine through a pint glass and Eddie wanted to run her hands through it until he felt better. Hazel eyes were closer to green when they were red-rimmed and she never wanted to see them any shade of green ever again if it meant he was in as much pain as that moment. She took his hand and traced the lines on his palm—August used to do that to try and ground her when she came to her fights. Remind her of her roots. Surely Axel didn't need reminding, but the least she could offer was to tend to the soil.

"I was 17..." Axel's voice broke when he eventually spoke. The sound was rough and rotten. Scratchy. He cleared his throat. "Turned 18 two weeks later. She didn't even get to—I didn't get to see adulthood with her. She died before I graduated. Which was fuckin' hard to do because she died. And he—I know he was grieving too. But I'm their son and he just fell off the fuckin' deep end and left me alone. Left two empty seats at my graduation because he told me he didn't feel like it.

"And I know that was years ago, but..." Axel wiped under his eyes with his sleeve. "It's not like he's tried to make up for it in any way that counts. And I—I don't wish he was dead. That was wrong for me to say. I just... I wish she was here. Almost everyone I know got to share a beer with their parents when they turned 21. I got to save up and haul ass across the country because I lied on a resume and said I finished at MIT. Which I couldn't even do because I'm a fucking idiot who missed his mom even when it had been three fuckin' years."

"Can you tell me about her?"

"What?" Axel sat up and Eddie didn't know how to pull him back to her. He stared at her with tear-filled eyes.

"Tell me about her. If you want," Eddie said. She'd take the words back if it meant she could have his warmth against her once again. Her shoulder felt cold despite the sun on her. "No pressure, I just... thought. Maybe."

"I know everyone says this about their mom but she was the best." Axel stared at the etched words on the headstone again. "She was so fucking cool. Had an at home studio—she taught how to dance before I went to an actual studio. I—I wish I kept up with it. I stopped when she got sick and I shouldn't have. It's not what she wanted; but by the end she was so confused that I just told her I had already gone to classes before coming to visit her. She died while I lied to her."

"It's not a bad thing that you wanted to see your mom," Eddie said. "Given any circumstance, let alone that one."

Axel looked shattered. "I wish I hadn't lied to her. She would've been disappointed. He was right. In his own shitty way. But—only about that. I don't care what he says, she was always on tour and she took me to all these amazing places. Her and her band just rocked it all the fuckin' time. I used to sit on the bar counters and the bartender would serve me virgin vodka crans and it was... the best. She would do my homework with me between sets and on planes so I only went to public school when she got sick... They told us she was getting better. But she never left the hospital after she was admitted that Christmas. Three months of that shit."

"That's traumatic," Eddie said. "You're allowed to have not moved on..."

"I feel like there were places we never got to go. Things we didn't get to see," Axel said. "And I know I can go to those places and that's what she would want—but—and no, he doesn't speak for her. It's just—the idea I didn't make her proud really got to me. I don't know why. I know he was just being mean."

Eddie bit her lip. Tried to figure out if she was even qualified to say what she wanted to.

Axel frowned at her a little and nudged her gently with his elbow. "Want to go grab some pasta?"

"What?"

He poked her in the chest—she hadn't even realized what shirt she'd pulled out of the dresser but the shape of the noodle was undeniable. "Penne for your thoughts?"

Eddie rolled her eyes.

Axel laughed a little. At least that was something. His smile lit up the cemetery more than the genuine sun; like it shone only to show him off.

"I know I didn't know your mom. So I'm hardly the expert on her thoughts and feelings. I'm hardly the expert on my own thoughts and feelings. But..." Eddie looked at the headstone again. Eyed the flowers and hoped they were remotely close to the ones she deserved. She folded her hands in her lap. Picked at her thumbnail. "If I had a son, and he grew up like you, I don't think there would be anything that wouldn't make me proud of him."

"Oh, god, you don't have to—" Axel made a face.

"You're the kindest person I know," Eddie said. "I mean—you barely knew me and you showed up to drive me somewhere because I had a panic attack. Who does that? And—and you're funny. I owe you for the smile lines I keep finding whenever I look in the mirror."

Even if he didn't say anything, Eddie knew she was getting through. There was a small smile threatening his lips and she didn't have it in her to kiss him for fear she was a hot iron.

"I know I can't make this better," Eddie said. "But I need you to know you make everyone around you better, and that should count for something. And—I'm really grateful. That you're in my life. I know I'm not... good at feelings, but please know you mean a lot to many people, including me. And your shitty dad can't take that or anything else you've accomplished away from you. Your mom would be so fuckin' proud of you. I know she would be."

"You know," Axel said. He wiped another tear off his cheek but smiled anyway. "You could've picked a more romantic place to say that to me. This is a wicked bummer."

Eddie rolled her eyes. Let out a small laugh. "I won't even take it back because you're sad and it's making me sad."

"I'm honoured."

"You should be."

Axel pulled her close and kissed the side of her head. "Thank you. I'm sorry your first trip to Boston didn't show the best parts."

"We still have a couple days," Eddie said. "But we're visiting your mom right now. That's important too."

"She would've loved you," Axel said. "I want you to know that."

"Now I'm honoured."

Axel dug his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a photograph from the clear license sleeve. He turned it toward Eddie; a sure sign she could look, but he didn't want her to touch it. She moved a little closer to him, chin against his shoulder, their legs pressed against each other.

The photo was a little weathered from age, dog eared on one corner. Two people in front of a bar. A younger kid sat on the bar counter, grinning. Beside him was a blonde woman, probably late thirties. They had the same smile. Same blonde hair, though hers was longer. She had an arm wrapped around the boy.

Eddie had been right: Axel was the spitting image of his mom.

"She's pretty."

"She was fucking legendary."