June First

by Jennifer Hartmann

“He said his name was Brant.” A lengthy silence stretches between us for a moment, only fractured by the sound of singing cicadas. I run a hand through my hair, sitting up and watching as she stares off between the headstones, the heartwarming memories lighting up her eyes. “She told me she’d finally decided on your name, and that any boy with that name was destined to become a good, honorable man,” she explains. “And then when she got home, she researched the meaning behind the name, just out of curiosity. Do you know what it means?” I shake my head. I never bothered to look it up. “Sword,” she tells me. “Brant means ‘sword.’ Brave, gallant, a stalwart defender.” Aunt Kelly reaches into her purse and pulls out an opened bag of Skittles, quirking a smile as she tips the corner toward me. Cupping my palm, I hold it out to her. She pours the candies into my hand, the purple ones already plucked out. Just like she’d done when I was a small child. “You’ve lived up to your name, Brant. More than you know.” We both glance at the headstone, feeling my mother’s presence swirling around us, wrapping us up in a warm hug. “I know she’d be so very proud.”