Ford’s hand is on the small of my back as I watch as they do what they can.
“Don’t leave me,” I choke out, my body racking as the sobs come faster than I can keep up with. “Don’t leave me, Daddy.”
My palms are pressed against the window as I watch, hope, beg for some sign that he’s still with me. Even as I pray that somehow a miracle will send him back to me, I know the truth: he’s already gone.
Thirty-Five
Ford
I’ve looked for her everywhere.
“Ellie?” I call again as I enter the kitchen.
It’s just like we left it. Everything in its place like Bill could walk back in and settle down in his chair, flipping on an old Western. She doesn’t want to disturb it yet and that’s fine with me. It’s her call. But this disappearing act she has going on has to stop.
I’m about to head back into the living room when something catches my eye. Moving over to the window that overlooks the backyard, I see her. She’s sitting on a makeshift bench overlooking a garden that was probably a productive scene a few weeks ago. Everything is sort of overgrown now, some vegetables clearly rotting as they hang on their vines.
She’s sitting with her back to me, facing the setting sun.
The last day has been hard for her, harder than I can imagine. I’ve not lost a parent and she’s lost both. Camilla suggested I just stick around, offering to help in any way I can. It feels like not enough. Especially as she cried herself to sleep, finally, in my arms this afternoon.
The door squeaks as I go through and make my way around the corner of the house. If she hears me coming, she doesn’t move.
I give her shoulders a soft squeeze as she rests her head on my arm. “The sunset is pretty tonight.”
“Yeah.”
I take a seat beside her and watch the streaks of pink and purple blaze across the sky. “Are you okay?”
“I will be,” she says resolutely. “He’d kill me if he knew I was sitting here crying.”
“I think he’d understand.”
Her shoulders lift and fall. She toes a rock with her shoe before looking at me. “A lot of people looked at him like he was just another old man,” she says. “He didn’t finish high school. I’m not sure how well he could read, really. He used to have me spell the words when he’d work the crossword puzzles in the papers.”
She smiles to herself at the memory. “I get now why he was so chatty the last few months. He knew he was dying.”
“I think he wanted you to keep living your life and not feel like you had to baby him.”
“Probably.” She kicks another rock. “Speaking of babies, what are we going to do about ours?” She looks at me out of the corner of her eye, a little grin sneaking up on her lips.
“I don’t want you worrying about anything, Ellie.”
“Fine.” She turns to face me. “I’m scared you’re going to leave me.”
My laughter fills the garden. “There’s no way I’m leaving you and you sure as hell aren’t leaving me.”
“But what about Barrett?”
“What about him?” I shrug. “If he needs my help, I’ll give it to him. Of course I will. But …” I lean close to her. “I hope I find myself as a married man in the next nine months and can bail out on the travel arrangements because my wife needs me at home.”
“Really? You would do that?”
“You think there’s a chance I wouldn’t?” I laugh. “Look, Barrett is my family and he always will be. That goes for all of my siblings. But, make no mistake, you and our baby are now the most important thing in my life, bar none. No one comes before you. Period.”
She blinks back a fresh round of tears.
“Come here.” I pull her into my side, kissing the top of head.
“I want to apologize to you,” she whispers against my shirt.
“Stop.”
“No, hear me out. I’ve told you I have trust issues and I’ve blamed them on you—right or wrong. I’ve pointed out all the things I want to do with my life.”
“Things you will do with your life,” I correct her.
“Will do. Yes,” she whispers. “We’ve both done stupid things and said dumb things and gotten scared for various reasons. I want you to know I’m sorry for doubting you.”
“Seriously, stop,” I say, squeezing her.
“It’s important for me to know you know that. That you know I recognize how amazing you are. You check off all my boxes.”
“Your boxes?”
“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs. “Thank you, Ford, for sticking with me.”
“Thank you for being so stick-with-able.”
She laughs, planting a kiss to my sternum. “We should be celebrating right now.”
“We will, but we have months to think about that. Right now we need to honor your father.”
“He didn’t want a funeral,” she says, her voice cracking. “I hate that. He felt so alone the last few years, and he just expects me to just toss him in the dirt.”
“I tell you what,” I say, “if you want to do a funeral, you do a funeral. He can’t tell you no.”
“What if no one comes?”
“Does it matter?” I ask. “It’s your way of showing him the respect he deserves.”
“Will you go with me to plan it?” She looks at me through her thick lashes. “I can’t go alone.”
“Baby, you never have to go anywhere alone again. It’s me and you.”
She turns to me and buries her head in my shoulder. “I feel really alone right now, Ford. I know you are here and I appreciate that so much. But … it’s just me. My parents are gone. I’m an only child. It’s …”
Pulling back, she wipes her eyes with her hand. “I don’t want our baby to be an only child,” she whispers.
“So you’re saying you want me to give you a houseful of children? Sold.” I grin at her and am relieved to see her smile back. “I’ll give you anything you want as long as you keep giving me those smiles.”
Her cheeks turn a shade of pink, and she looks back at the garden. “I don’t want you to think I’m just saying this because of what just happened with my dad …”
I’m almost afraid to ask. Almost. “What?”
Her looks at me with wide, hopeful eyes. “I’m sorry for not trusting you. For not trusting us.”
“Hey. It’s okay.”
“I laid in bed last night and thought about things. I thought about us and things my dad said and how I feel and the baby …” She hesitates. “This is my rainbow.”
I give her a confused look and she laughs.
“You and this baby are my rainbow, the pot of gold after all the rain,” she explains. “After we get through this, I’m yours. Completely.”
I chuckle. “Like you already aren’t.”
“You’re right,” she says, reaching out and touching my face. “I already am.”
Footsteps make us look towards the house to see Violet and Heath coming around the corner. Both of their faces are wet. Ellie runs to them when she sees them and they stand in a circle, hugging and crying.
I pad across the lawn. “Hey,” I say. Violet turns to me. “Are you going to be here a while?”
She nods.
“I’m going to go take care of a few things. Will you stay with her until I get back?”
“Absolutely.”
I kiss Ellie’s cheek and leave them to have some time together.
Thirty-Six
Ford
“Hi, Mama.”
I walk around her island and give her a kiss on the cheek. She adjusts her pearls around her neck and gives me a quick once-over.
“Oh, my,” she says, taking my chin in with her hand. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to talk to you.”
She sets the spoon in her hand down and heads to the breakfast nook. I slide into a seat beside her, the smells of some kind of soup floating around the kitchen.
I’ve had dinner in this kitchen
thousands of times. Just walking in here, I feel at home. I hear my brothers’ laughs, my sisters singing stupid songs, my father telling us to all quiet down from over the years. It’s a room full of memories, but we have the ability to recreate those sometime. Ellie doesn’t, and I can’t begin to imagine how she feels right now.
“Ford?” Mom asks. “Talk to me.”
I blow out a breath. “This is not how I want to tell you this, but I’m kind of in a bind right now.”
“Go on.”
“Brace yourself,” I say, shaking my head. “Do you remember Ellie Pagan?”
“Of course. Your sisters tell me you’re seeing her again. Lincoln says—”
“Just stop there,” I laugh. “Whatever Linc says is probably not true.”
“Well, in this case, I hope it is.” She gives me a motherly smile. “You’ve seemed happier lately. And you’ve not been coming by for lunch. While I miss your handsome face, I think it’s a good thing you’re finding someone else to eat with.”
“I have been seeing her again. Actually,” I say, testing the waters, “I’m been doing more than seeing her.”
“Really?”
“Mom, Ellie and I are having a baby.”
Her jaw almost hits the table.
“Look, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not,” I ramble. “This isn’t some random thing or a mistake that needs cleaned up somehow. I wasn’t drinking or on drugs or—”
“Ford.” She stops me with one word. “I only have one question.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you love her?”
I slink back in my seat, smiling without meaning to. “She’s the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing that crosses my mind before I go to sleep. When I think back on my day or the last week or the last month, it’s like a highlight reel of the moments I got to spend with her. And, if I play that back over the course of my life, the sweetest memories all include her.”
Mom bats her eyelashes quickly, one hand going to her chest.
“I can’t imagine doing anything and not telling her about it or taking her with me to do it. There’s nothing that could be as tempting as slipping in bed with her at the end of the day. And, the thing is, Mom, I’ve always known that. I just didn’t know how to deal with it. Now, I know. And I’m not about to ever, ever give that up.”
“That’s all I need to know.”
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. She just watches me with a smile that reflects mine.
“So … nothing else?” I ask.
“No.” She shrugs her narrow shoulders. “When can I meet her again? I’d love to get to know her and see if she needs anything for the baby.” She places a hand on her heart. “I’m going to be a grandma again. Maybe I’ll get to hold this one.”
We laugh at her joke. I close my eyes and feel relief course through me.
“Thank you, Mom.”
“For what, son?”
I shrug as I blow out a breath. “No matter what we do, whether it’s Barrett wrecking Dad’s car or Lincoln getting written up in the tabloids or Sienna moving to Los Angeles—you always have our backs. I haven’t always appreciated that about you.”
She grins softly. “It’s not always easy raising this brood. You’re a bunch of headstrong, opinionated, capable people, and that sometimes gives me heart failure. But I have to sit back and remember a couple of things.” She folds her hands on her lap, a gold bracelet twinkling in the light. “For one, that means we’ve raised healthy, intelligent children that aren’t afraid to be themselves. And two, your father and I—more your father—aren’t perfect either.”
Chuckling, I nod. “None of us is perfect.”
“No, we aren’t. But a hallmark of a strong family, Ford, is one that allows its members to grow and learn. And not just when they’re babies. Sometimes the hardest life lessons are learned when we’re adults.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“Yes, you should. Especially now that you’re going to be a daddy,” she smiles. “I can’t believe it. I want to go buy all the babies things.”
“Easy there,” I laugh. “You know, I was afraid you were going to think it was some kind of setup or something. I haven’t brought her around and after some of my brothers’ shenanigans …”
“You are different from your brothers,” she says. “You’re level-headed. If you tell me this is what you want and what is right, I’m behind you one hundred percent. Besides,” she laughs, “I’m going to be a grandma again!”
I watch her face light up, her cheeks matching the color of her dress.
“I have something else to tell you,” I sigh. “Ellie’s father died last night.”
“What?” For the second time in as many minutes, she looks shocked. “How? That poor girl. Where is she?”
“It’s a long story, but he had cancer. Had an accident last night and didn’t make it. She’s at his house now with a couple of her friends.”
“I need to make a casserole.” She gets to her feet and is at the freezer before I can say anything. “What does she like to eat?”
“Mom,” I chuckle, “give me a second.”
One hand holding open the door, she looks at me.
“She doesn’t need a casserole, although that’s very nice of you. It’s just her. He didn’t really have any friends and she doesn’t have siblings or family. I can handle feeding her.”
The door closes with a thump. “I have to do something,” she insists. “What does she need?”
I stand and look at her, my phone in my hand poised over Graham’s name. “There is one thing …”
Thirty-Seven
Ellie
The sky is three shades of grey. Not a ray of sunshine to be found. Even the breeze has a chill to it that seems fitting for the day.
Sitting in a chair draped with black fabric, I watch as the hearse pulls slowly into the cemetery. I thought this was a compromise between me wanting to honor his life and Dad not wanting anything—a graveside service.
Sitting under the awning are Violet and Heath and a few of my father’s friends. They give me tight, sad smiles, their faces showing the fondness they had for Dad. It eases the slightest bit of my pain knowing I’m not the only one that will miss him.
The entire Landry clan surrounds me. They’re an overwhelming bunch in the best possible way. Ford mentioned a couple of days ago he told his mother, and ever since, they’ve all shown up at my house with food, drinks, and chitchat. I couldn’t fit another slice of cheese in my refrigerator at this point. Even the Governor is here, sitting in the back with his girlfriend, Alison, and her son, Huxley. Dad would be amused.
The hearse crawls to a stop. As if on cue, the Landry men stand, each looking regal in their suits, and file to the long, black car. I watch in amazement that they took this time out of their day to help me pay tribute to a man they’ll never know.
One by one, they form two lines. Ford, Graham, and Barrett on one side and Mr. Landry, Huxley, and Lincoln on the other. Faces somber, heads slightly bowed, they accept the duty they’ve been tasked with such grace it slays me.
I forgo the tissue and just let the tears roll down my face. There’s no sense in trying to keep up with them. It’s impossible.
I watch these people give me one of the greatest gifts they could ever give. None of them had to be here today. They all have lives running businesses and states and charities. Yet they’re here because Ford asked them to be. They’re here … for me.
The casket is brought to the tent and placed on the platform in front of me. Each of them stops and gives me a hug before taking their seats. By the time little Huxley comes through the line, I can’t see for the tears.
“Ms. Ellie,” he whispers.
“Yes?”
“I’m very sorry your dad passed away.”
“Thank you, Huxley.”
“Here.” He takes my hand and presses a small coin in my palm. “This is a token that Lincoln gave me
when I was scared to go to Atlanta. He said to keep it in my pocket so I’d remember that I’m not alone, even when I felt like it. I want you to have it now.”
I clamp a hand over my mouth and pull the child into another hug. “Thank you, sweet boy.”
He straightens his tie and disappears into the aisle behind us.
I lean against Ford’s shoulder, holding the little pewter coin in my hand. “Your family is amazing,” I whisper.
He looks down at me. “They’re your family now too.”
The pastor begins the service with an opening prayer. Ford’s arm drapes across the back of my chair and the other lies on my lap.
As I listen to the words spoken for my father, I feel a peace settle over my soul. Ford squeezes my hand and I give it a tug back.
The sun peeks through the clouds, almost casting a glow over the tent. It’s suddenly warm.
I look around and see the faces of Ford’s family carefully listening to the pastor. If you were looking in from the outside, you would think someone important was being put to rest in the black coffin in front of me.
I smile, thinking how proud he would be. And then I smile a little wider when I remember his words, “Figure out what puts a smile on your face and give that a try.”
“I figured it out, Daddy,” I whisper, dabbing my eye with a hankie. “I finally figured it out.”
Thirty-Eight
Ellie
“It’s looking good, huh?” I spin in a circle, showcasing the final look of Halcyon before the doors open next week.
“It looks great!” Mallory looks at Camilla. “That green is amazing, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know. I’m looking at this shirt. Can I buy this now?” she laughs.
“I want that in purple,” Danielle chimes in. “Now that I’m not so round I’d look like a grape.”
“Don’t talk about grapes,” Alison blushes.
“Why not? You don’t like grapes?” Mallory asks.
The Landry Family Series: Part Two Page 20