“Where’s Luke?”
I turned away, back toward the doorway. Luke popped his head in.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear,” he said. I noticed his eyes were red and puffy and wondered if he’d been crying, too. “I’m right here, Joe.”
“Mallory, I want a word with Luke. Alone, please,” Dad said.
I wanted to argue, I needed to spend every moment with him I could until he was gone. But I knew he needed to speak with Luke, too. Luke was like a son to him, whether he and I were a couple or not. Luke had been a better child to my father than I had. And now I was out of time to make up for it.
So I kissed Dad’s hand and left the room, shutting the door behind me. I went into the kitchen and let Irene know how thankful I was for all that she’d done.
“I’ve been in hospice nursing for years, but I never quite met a man like Joe,” she whispered. She had tears in her eyes. “The last six months or so, Luke convinced Joe to hire someone from hospice to help with the daily upkeep of the house. Joe just couldn’t handle the day-to-day stuff.”
“You have been a huge help, Irene. My dad has been lucky to help you,” I said.
“I’m going to miss him,” she admitted.
The way she said it caught my attention. Was there more going on here?
“I think everyone will miss him. Even after … after he passes, I would still like you to come take care of the house. I don’t know what my immediate plans are, so I don’t want to get your hopes up that it will be forever, or that I need taking care of, but if you’re interested in the housekeeping aspect, I’d be happy to have you,” I told her, wondering how much her services cost.
“That is sweet, Mallory. Really. But I am no longer employed by the hospice agency. I got done three months ago,” she said.
“So, then, why are you here?” I asked.
“Your father is an amazing man,” she said.
It was her way of answering without actually answering me. She and my father had a thing going. And they were in their forties. I guess love happens at any age. I smiled at her.
“When Luke is finished talking to my father, I’d like you to sit with him for a while,” I suggested, knowing that’s exactly what she would want to do.
She nodded her thanks and I went to sit on the front porch swing. I sat there for several minutes before Luke came out onto the porch and sat next to me. We didn’t speak; we just sat there in silence. When his hand wrapped around mine, I entwined our fingers together, still unsure of my true feelings, but emotionally drained. I needed his comfort. I put my head on his shoulder and he put an arm around me.
We sat there, silently awaiting the death of the man who was a father to both of us.
Chapter Fourteen
Luke
Joe’s death was one I didn’t want to deal with. He was practically my own father, and after what he’d said to me before he died, I felt like that was the case even more so. He’d held on for three more days before the cancer took him. Mallory and Irene were sitting with him when he breathed his last. I’d been in the kitchen, consoling my aching heart with food.
Mallory’s screams drew my attention and I ran into the room to find Mallory with her head on Joe’s chest, sobbing. Her agonized cries tugged on my heart.
“You promised me, Daddy. You broke you promise,” she whispered, over and over again.
Irene had called the medical examiner and funeral director and it had taken all of us to get Mallory to let go of her dad. When she finally turned from him, she threw herself into my arms and cried heart-wrenching sobs. Her whole body convulsed with her tremors. I did the only thing I could do; I wrapped my arms around her and held tight. She would always find comfort from me.
That was three days ago and the funeral was later today. Joe’s words from our little chat haunted me to no end.
“I want to ask you about your intentions with my daughter,” Joe said.
My jaw dropped. He was dying but he still put her first. He was the epitome of a devoted father.
“I, umm, I don’t know what you mean,” I babbled, wondering what he wanted from me.
Joe was direct. “Do you want her back or not, son?”
“Of course I do,” I answered honestly.
“And if you get her, what do you plan to do about it?”
“Are you asking me if I plan to marry her?”
“Damn right I am. I see the way you look at her, Luke. I know you aren’t the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. So tell me what you intend to do with my daughter.”
This was insane. Mallory was only twenty-one and I was going to be twenty-four in a few months. We were too young to consider marriage, especially if Gabby and Wolfe were any indication of what young marriage led to. I didn’t want resentment between Mallory and me.
“I’m in love with her, Joe. But marriage? At our age? I just don’t think that’s a viable option, especially when she’s emotional and her future is unclear. She doesn’t know if or when she’s going back to Boston and I don’t want to push her,” I announced. I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jeans and felt vulnerable and uncomfortable.
“I want to know she’s taken care of, Luke. You’re the only man I trust her with,” he said.
I was humbled.
“Whether you end up together or not, I want your word that you’ll take care of her. For her entire life,” he added.
“I promise,” I said quickly. I didn’t need to think about protecting Mallory. It came naturally.
“That’s my boy,” he said and lifted a frail hand to shake mine.
His boy. Joe wanted me as a son-in-law. He wanted me to marry his daughter, settle into this house, and raise babies. I couldn’t help but think I wanted that, too. But I knew Mallory. She wasn’t the type to accept men planning out her life. She would have to make her decisions on her own timeframe, without anyone pushing her.
And today was not the day to push. She’d been an emotional wreck after Joe’s death and Rainey and Gabby had moved into the house in order to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid. She wasn’t suicidal, but depressed people were unpredictable. The doctors had prescribed Valium that first night, to help her sleep. But after six straight hours of night terrors, Gabby and Rainey had convinced the doctors she shouldn’t take the pills anymore.
So she went without medication and although I was certain she wasn’t sleeping well, as evidenced in the dark circles around her eyes, she wasn’t have nightmares, either. She was coping. It was going to be a hard day for her. I had made a lot of the arrangements, since Joe’s instructions had been specific and Mallory wasn’t capable of much. The official reading of his will would be sometime next week. I was told I needed to attend, since I was in it. That he’d thought of me in his last wishes made my heart clench.
I made my way to pick up Mallory and the girls. Baker and Wolfe were meeting us at the funeral home. I pulled into the driveway and Rainey was outside on the porch, smoking a cigarette.
“Careful, Rain, those things will kill you,” I joked.
Her face went white and she tossed the cigarette away. I grabbed her arm before she could run into the house.
“I was kidding, Rainey.”
The joke might have been in bad taste, but the tears welling in her eyes weren’t about Joe.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you,” she whispered. Her long eyelashes dragged tears out of her eyes and onto her cheeks.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t tell anyone.”
It was true. Even though today was about Joe and Mallory, Rainey was my friend, too, and I would protect her as best I could.
“I can’t. Not today. Let’s just focus on Mallory today,” she suggested.
I didn’t want to push her into telling me, but I was also dying to know.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m always here if you need me, though.”
She nodded her thanks and took off into the house, presumably to fix
her makeup. Why women wore makeup to a funeral, I would never understand. I opened up the screen door and walked inside. One look at Mallory and I immediately understood why they wore makeup.
She was seated on the couch, her hands in her lap. She looked up when I walked in but her face didn’t change. She was pale and didn’t have any makeup on. She looked like a ghost. The black dress and tiny black veil made her blue eyes pop, the color lighting up her face a bit. But there was sadness in those pretty eyes, a sadness that reached into her soul. She might never be the same again.
“Mallory, let’s finish getting you ready,” Gabby said, pulling on Mallory’s hand.
Mal went with Gabby without a word, seemingly uncaring about how she looked. I knew this would be hard for her, but I never imagined it would crush her like this.
In the last three days, she’d spoken less than ten words to me. She didn’t answer my calls and she replied to my texts with one-word answers. She was distancing herself from me. I was angry about it, but what could I say? Joe’s death would probably be the hardest thing in her life to overcome. But she would. Eventually. She just needed time to grieve.
When Rainey reappeared in the living room, she looked no worse for the wear, and a sweetly sad smile was plastered on her face. She avoided eye contact with me and went into the kitchen to help with the food. There was going to be a reception here at the house after the funeral. I had protested that a reception Mallory couldn’t escape from was a bad idea, but I was overruled. I sighed. These women were always overruling us men.
Gabby entered the living room with Mallory trailing behind her. Mal was wearing makeup, her eyes coated in thick black mascara that made her eyelashes look extra-long. I hoped Gabby had been smart enough to use that waterproof stuff; there was no way Mallory wouldn’t cry today. I walked up to her and she looked up at me expectantly.
“You can do this,” I said. I wanted only to give her comfort but it backfired.
“Of course I can do this, Luke. I don’t have any other choice,” she said.
Her voice was unnaturally calm and not even the slightest bit emotional. As I pondered the meaning of that, she turned away and went to join the women in the kitchen. Something about her was off, but I couldn’t place it. She seemed more distant than normal, but I expected that. There was something else going on. I followed her to the kitchen.
“We need to get going,” I said to the room. The four women turned to me and I felt like a child. “It’s almost eleven,” I added.
Irene glared. Rainey rolled her eyes. Gabby sighed. Mallory didn’t do anything. She just looked at me with her baby blues void of all emotion.
“Yes, girls, let’s get going,” Irene said finally.
She gathered her purse and ushered me and the girls out of the house. She was a mother hen, but I didn’t complain. She was able to get those women out of the house when my efforts had been wasted.
Once we were in the car, the five of us settled into an awkward silence. There were no words for a day like this. No amount of compassion and apologies about her loss would console Mallory. Not that she seemed in the mood for consoling. The silence went on and on until we finally reached the only funeral home in town. There was a parking lot on either side, but we were early, so it wasn’t filled yet. After the effect Joe had on this town, I imagined both parking lots, and even the parking lot of the bank across the street, would be full.
I took a deep breath before we walked inside. There was a distinct smell about the building, one I was sure lingered from the hundreds of dead people who had come and gone through this place. I led the way through the double doors and into the room to the immediate right. There was a large hall with plenty of seating for anyone who came. A single aisle led down to the casket that was sealed closed. I wasn’t afraid, per se, but death was never easy. I made my way toward the casket and laid my hand against the cool wood.
“I’ll take care of her, Joe.”
I made my final promise. I knew he wasn’t inside; he’d been cremated the day before. But I still felt a connection to the man whom I’d looked up to for the past few years. I walked away from the casket and turned back to where Mallory stood frozen at the back of the room. Rainey motioned me toward them, a look of severe anxiety on her face.
“Mallory is refusing to go to her seat,” Rainey whispered as I approached.
I figured as much. I nodded to Rainey and took Mallory’s arm. She tried to pull back but I wouldn’t let her.
“I’m not ready for this,” she whispered harshly.
I heard the fear in her voice and saw it in her cloudy blue eyes. I tugged her gently away from the crowd of people, farther back in the room.
“You don’t have to do this, Mallory. We can leave, right now. I’ll take you home and you will never have to come back here.”
I watched her consider my words. I knew a part of her wanted more than anything to do what I suggested and just skip out on the funeral. Her shoulders slumped as she weighed her options. She looked at her feet and, after a full minute, came to a decision. Her shoulders went straight and her head came up. She met my eyes without a tear in sight.
She gave me a soft smile. “Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to run away,” she said. “Will you go up with me?”
“Of course,” I answered.
I hadn’t expected her to be so strong. I wanted to believe she would need my shoulder to cry on, but she proved her guts when she walked down the aisle to the casket alone. I trailed behind her, just to be certain she didn’t break down.
But she didn’t.
With her head held high, she whispered a goodbye to her father’s casket and then sat in the front row to wait for the service to begin. I sat next to her, amazed by her determination. She looked completely calm and at peace with the situation. It was only when the pastor walked up to the front of the room that I had any idea of the terror she felt inside.
She held onto my hand with an iron grip, her fingers clutching mine like a lifeline. I gave her hand a little squeeze for support.
Chapter Fifteen
Mallory
As much as I wanted to cry, I refused. Dad wouldn’t want me to mourn him. He would want me to cherish all the moments I had with him when he was alive. Of course, that didn’t make this dreadful day any worse. I took refuge in the fact that he wasn’t inside the death box from hell.
The place was decorated nicely with an assortment of flowers, which I thought was the perfect embodiment of my dad: here today, gone tomorrow. It was ironic, really. The beautiful flowers would wilt away in the summer heat, much as my father had done in the past few years. No matter how much he’d told me he wanted me to be happy in Boston, I couldn’t help the guilt that plagued my soul. I should have been here for him. He’d suffered alone while I had been living a perfect life in the city. Well, not entirely alone. He’d had Luke. Luke.
Luke was the one person who understood my guilt. He sat by me through the service as I held on to his hand for dear life. He was my lifeline. He made me feel strong enough to deal with the death of my father. Even though we hadn’t talked much over the past few days, we were still connected. We needed to work out some of the details of our on-again relationship.
Although we didn’t need to work anything out. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt Luke wanted to get back together. I was the one who was fickle. As much as I adored Luke, and yes, I probably loved him, I wasn’t sure I wanted to settle for this small town. Dad’s terminal status had resigned me to spending a few months here, but now that my ties to Casper were gone, all I could think about was Boston. My roommates weren’t intrusive about my personal life like Rainey and Gabby. I loved them, but my Boston roomies didn’t dig deep into how I felt about things. Rain and Gab were two of the most infuriating women on the planet.
They hadn’t left my house since the night of the slumber party. One of them was with me at all times. They refused to leave me alone in my time of need. Ha! What I needed was for them to leave me in pea
ce. I just wanted to grieve my dad without dealing with inadequate condolences and people telling me about the people they lost in their life. But Gabby and Rainey were constantly at my side, both before and after Dad’s death.
Except, of course, for the few hours I managed to slip out before he died and spend some quality time with Luke. And oh, what an amazing few hours it was. I was sixteen the first time I slept with Luke. It was the night he graduated high school. It had been beautiful and terrifying and everything I dreamed it would be, even if it were a little awkward.
Luke had learned some moves; he wasn’t shy or afraid to take what he wanted. We’d both grown up, it seemed, and sex had been a thousand times better than when we were kids. I couldn’t believe he was the same man I’d left years ago. He matured over the course of three years, but so had I. I wasn’t a naïve little girl who believed in happily ever after. My dad’s death was proof enough for me that it didn’t exist.
I clung to him at the funeral service, even though I knew I would leave him again. I couldn’t live in this town without my father, no matter how much I cared for Luke.
When the pastor began his short sermon, I expected it to be preachy, but I was pleasantly surprised. And heartbroken all the same. He started with a greeting and then went into the story of the footprints in the sand.
I wanted to cry as he recited the words of the poem I had memorized as a child. My lips moved in unison with his as he read. I felt the reality of Dad’s death and I fought to keep my composure. It was a ridiculous struggle, but I believed that tears at his funeral would make him look down on me in shame.
“When we face the most troubling times of our lives, we must remember that God has a plan for us, even if we can’t see that plan,” he said. The pastor continued on, discussing the afterlife and how we should rejoice that another of God’s children had been called home.
Broken Series Page 10