by Noelle Adams
“Because— because they’re—” She couldn’t tell this child that her parents were dead. It was too harsh. Too final. Kaya was twelve years old when Eli died, and she’d still fallen apart at the death of a father she hadn’t seen or spoken to in seven years. Alyssa was only four, and up until three days ago, her parents were very much a part of her daily life. How could anyone explain the meaning of their absence in a way that would make sense to her?
“I’ll take it from here.” Bryce lifted Alyssa onto his lap and began to brush his fingers through her brown curls. “Alyssa, do you remember last summer when you and I went for a walk and we found a squirrel lying on the side of the road?”
She thought for a moment then nodded. “He got dead ’cause he came out too fast from the bushes and a car ran over him. He didn’t look both ways, Uncle Bryce. But I look both ways. See, like this.” She turned her head one way and then the other.
“That’s a good girl.” Bryce shifted and braced his back against the cushions. “Do you remember what Uncle Bryce said about what it means to be dead? Why the squirrel couldn’t go home to his family?”
“It means his heart don’t work no more.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, sweetheart, your mommy and daddy are—” He pulled her closer, propping his chin on the top of her head. “What I’m trying to say, Alyssa, is that your mommy and daddy— They— they died, baby.”
Alyssa’s brows knitted tighter together. “They didn’t go to heaven to see God?”
“Yes, Alyssa. They— they are in heaven,” Kaya said, picking up the baton. “That’s where people who love God go when they die.”
“And your mommy and daddy loved God very, very much,” Bryce added, smiling into her perplexed face.
Anastasia whimpered, drawing Kaya’s attention to the other side of the room. Jason was shaking and tears were streaming down his face. She immediately went to rescue Anastasia from his loose grip. She wanted to sit with him, hold him, but was unsure of how he’d react to her.
“But I didn’t see them dead,” Alyssa said. “How did they get dead, Uncle Bryce? Did they run across the street and didn’t look both ways?”
Bryce inhaled sharply. “Not exactly, honey. Your— your daddy’s car broke down. And your mommy— she went to bring him home, but—”
Kaya could tell he was trying to control his anger at Michael for not accepting the new truck he’d bought for his birthday. Bryce had relayed that bit of information to her earlier today. He blamed Michael for turning his children’s lives upside down, not to mention his own and Kaya’s, too.
“It was snowing,” Bryce continued after a long pause, “and your mommy’s car, well, it skidded off the road. There was no one around to help them. It was very dark and cold. Their hearts were hurt really badly and— um— and they just stopped working.”
“Did you dig a hole like we dug a hole for the squirrel and put them in it, Uncle Bryce?”
Kaya held Anastasia close to her chest as Bryce explained about the grave they would be digging in the spring for Michael and Lauren, because the ground was frozen over now. While others would be planting flowers and seeds for a season of new life, she would be burying her sister and her brother-in-law.
This darling little baby she held in her arms would never remember the feel of her mother’s cheek pressed close to hers. She would never hear the anxious sound of her father’s voice calling her back from danger.
“I don’t want my mommy and daddy to be dead, Uncle Bryce,” Alyssa said. “I want them to come home.”
“I know, darling. I wish they could, more than anything in the world.”
Her little mouth quivered, and moisture shimmered beneath her long, dark lashes. She dropped her head against Bryce’s chest. “I want my mommy and my daddy to come home. I don’t want them to be in a hole.” She clutched Snoopy closer. “I want them to come home.”
“I know, baby. I know.” Raw pain hummed in Bryce’s voice as he hugged the whimpering child. The moans erupting from his throat, the tears streaming down his tortured face ripped at Kaya’s heart. His sobs were old, tired, too long repressed. He was crying for more than Michael and Lauren and these three little children he loved.
He was crying an old hurt for the wife he’d lost. The wife whose death Michael and Lauren’s had resurrected.
“Uncle Bryce?”
Desperation edged Jason’s voice. He ran to Bryce, fell on his knees, and wrapped his arms about him and his little sister. He’d probably never seen Bryce cry before, Kaya thought. He looked as frightened as she did the day she watched her father cry for the first time before he walked out of her life, never to return.
Cradling Anastasia in one arm, Kaya sat beside Bryce and draped her other arm around his shoulders. It was her time to lend a shoulder to cry on. But as the sobs of the man and the children filled the room, Kaya’s own dam of pent-up emotions broke.
Kaya wept for the sister she hardly knew, the brother-in-law she never met, and the tragic way their lives had ended. She wept for the precious children Michael and Lauren had left behind, and through whose souls she would learn about the parents they’d lost. Then she wept for Bryce and the pain that kept him shackled to his painful past.
Long after the sobs had ceased, the five members of this singular family that fate had fitted so perfectly together, like the interrelated pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, continued to huddle close, drawing solace from each other.
They had accepted the simple fact that they needed each other.
Then life outside intruded in the ringing of the phone.
“I’ll get it.” Jason jumped up from the floor, seemingly anxious to escape the awkward circle of solace they’d formed.
Kaya gazed at Bryce. The austere business mogul who portrayed an aura of strength and validity to the world had just broken down in front of her. She’d seen him at his weakest.
That could not be good for him.
But then he smiled, and the light in his eyes assured her that he was okay with her. He seemed grateful that she’d been there for him. It was easy. He’d come to her rescue twice today.
“Uncle Bryce.” Alyssa stared up at him. “I don’t have a mommy anymore.”
“That’s why I’m here, Alyssa.” Kaya smiled at her. “Your mommy and daddy asked me to take care of you, and Jason, and Anastasia.”
“But you’re not a mommy. You’re my Auntie Kaya.”
“We can pretend I’m a mommy.” Kaya wiped a lingering tear from Alyssa’s cheek. “I’ll do all the things your mommy used to do with you.”
“Like play dolls, and hide and seek, and take me to ballet?”
“Uh-huh,” Kaya said of the short list of things that were most important to her.
“And I’ll be your pretend daddy, if you’d like, Alyssa. We can do all the things you and your daddy used to do together.”
“You’ll make me oatmeal for breakfast, and take me skiing and for a sleigh ride on the lake, and dance with me and twirl me around and around?”
“I’ll do all that, and more, my baby. I love you, and Jason and Anastasia very, very much.”
Alyssa laid her head on his chest. “But my heart is broken, Uncle Bryce. I’ll never see my mommy and daddy again.”
Bryce stoked her hair as a fresh batch of tears gushed down her face. “You’ll be sad for a very long time, Alyssa, but your Auntie Kaya and I will always be here for you. We’ll take care of you.”
“Promise?”
“We promise,” they said in unison as their gazes met and held over Alyssa’s head.
They were making promises they both knew were impossible to keep. Kaya hadn’t crossed Palm Beach off her list, and Bryce was still determined to keep them in Granite Falls. How could they make such a promise when they lived on opposite sides of the east coast?
“It’s for you. Somebody named Jack.” Jason shoved the cordless receiver into her face.
She watched the muscles in Bryce’s jaw tighte
n and his eyes darken like an angry storm cloud. She understood his rage. Jack’s timing couldn’t be worse. What did he want? He had some nerve calling her after the way he’d treated her last night.
“Who’s Jack?” Alyssa asked.
“Your Aunt Kaya’s fian— friend.” Bryce set Alyssa on the floor and stood up. He took the phone from Jason and pressed it into Kaya’s hand. “Talk to Jack. I’ll take care of the kids.”
The threat in his voice and the hardening of his eyes told her he wasn’t just talking about the moment, but from here on in. Since they’d returned from Samantha’s office, he’d been nice to her. Jack’s call had changed his attitude.
The formidable Bryce Fontaine was back.
He bent down and took Anastasia from her. “Come on, kids. Your aunt needs some privacy.”
“Bryce, wait. There’s something you should—”
He silenced her with a menacing stare and stomped down the corridor with Alyssa and Jason tailing behind him.
Kaya slumped back against the cushions, swallowing the scream of frustration that rose to her throat. The inopportune timing of a stupid phone call had just shattered all the progress they’d made today.
As she watched Bryce and the kids disappear into the nursery, Kaya felt as if she’d just lost her best friend before she had a chance to get to know him.
Seven
“You okay, buddy?” Bryce asked Jason as they drove toward Elliot’s Funeral Home.
Jason nodded and fidgeted with the gold statue of a skier he’d won in a downhill competition last winter.
Michael had coached him for months while Lauren complained as usual that he was pushing Jason too hard, that he expected the boy to live his own dream of becoming an Olympic skier.
Bryce recalled the pride on Michael’s face as he watched his son steal away from his two most competitive opponents in the last fifty yards to swipe first place. It was worth all the hard work.
“That boy is gifted,” Michael said as they enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate at the resort café afterwards. “I’ve taken him as far as I can. I just wish I had the means to have him professional trained for the Olympics.”
“He can still be,” Bryce assured his friend.
Michael chuckled. “Sure. Do you have any idea what it cost to train for the Olympics—private teachers, private coaches, proper clothing and state-of-the-art equipment? He’ll be away from home, so there’s room and board.”
“I have no idea what it’ll cost,” Bryce responded. “But I’m pretty sure I can afford it. Fontaine Enterprises can sponsor him as long as it’s Jason’s dream and not yours.”
“I can’t let you do that. You’ve given us so much already.”
“All the more reason I should do this for Jason, if that is what he wants. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be here.”
Michael frowned over the rim of his mug. “How do you figure that?”
“Think about it. If I hadn’t pulled you out of that half-frozen pond that day, you would be pushing up saplings by now.”
Michael nodded in agreement. “You have a point there. Each person we meet in this life is put there for a specific reason. You hounded me for weeks trying to persuade me to teach you to ski, and I kept ignoring you until that fateful day. If it weren’t for you, I would never have had the chance to meet my sweet Lauren, and make three beautiful babies with her.”
“Three! Lauren is pregnant again?” Bryce exclaimed.
“Yep,” Michael said with a sly grin. “We just found out.”
“Well congratulations, my prolific brother.” Bryce reached across the rugged table and slapped him on the shoulder heartily.
“This is the last one,” Michael said. “Alyssa has already shaved ten years off of my life. That child is so full of energy. I can’t keep up with her. I’m too old for this, Bryce. It’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“We already know why you were placed in my life. Question is, why was I placed in yours? There must be something in it for you. Maybe you’ll meet your next true love through me, and stop chasing after the wrong women. Have a second chance at love.”
“I like chasing the wrong women,” Bryce responded truthfully.
“I understand. You don’t want to be hurt again. I love you like a brother, Bryce, but I can’t let you go on pretending that my kids are yours.”
“Michael, I don’t—”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Michael interrupted. “I appreciate everything you do for them, and it warms my heart to know that if anything should happen to me, you’d be there for them, and Lauren. Pretending they’re yours is good for them, but it’s not good for you. You need your own brood to carry on your family name. My children are Rogers. They will never be Fontaines.”
“Did you see them already?”
Screech!
Bryce pulled into the driveway of the funeral home. He parked in a space close to the door, engaged the emergency break, and unbuckled his seatbelt before responding to Jason. “Yes. I’ve seen them.” He’d come by the day he’d returned home, just to make sure Kaya wasn’t a figment of his imagination, and that he wasn’t caught up in another unending nightmare.
“How do they look?”
“Peaceful.”
“Like they’re sleeping?”
He nodded.
Jason fidgeted with the trophy he would put in his father’s casket. He’d written a letter to his mother and sealed it in a purple envelope—Lauren’s favorite color. It was inside the pocket of his jacket, close to his heart.
Bryce looked up as an SUV parked next to them and a family of three generations piled out of it. A young girl was carrying a wreath with a white banner that read, “Goodbye Grandpa. We love you.”
That was the order of things.
No young child should ever have to say goodbye to a parent. And this child had to say goodbye to both. Where was the justice in this world?
Jason unbuckled his seatbelt and scooted across the seat. Bryce wrapped the boy in his embrace as they sat quietly for a few precious moments. Bryce knew he was stalling, putting off the moment when he would see his parents lying in death. His heart bled for him.
“Do you dream about Aunt Pilar every night, Uncle Bryce?” Jason broke the silence.
Bryce swallowed the lump in his throat. Last night Jason had begged him to stay at L’etoile du Nord, but for obvious reasons, he’d taken him to his penthouse suite at Hotel Andreas instead. Fearful that Jason might hear his screams, Bryce had brewed a strong pot of coffee and retired to his den to work on the eulogy for Michael and Lauren.
He’d dozed off and the dream had come. He’d awakened to Jason shaking him awake. Bryce wished he could erase the memory of his screams from the boy’s mind. “Not every night.” He rubbed his chin in Jason’s soft, straight black hair. “Only when something happens to remind me of what happened to her.”
“Like Mommy and Daddy dying?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you hate God, Uncle Bryce? Don’t you want to go to heaven to see Aunt Pilar and Mommy and Daddy again?”
Bryce inhaled deeply. He would love to see his wife again, even if were just to tell her that he was sorry. He blamed himself for not protecting her. He was angry with God for not sparing her. But he didn’t hate Him. “I don’t hate God, Jason.”
“But you told Daddy you did.”
“I know what I told your dad. When Pilar died, I was very hurt and angry. When we’re hurt and angry, we say things we don’t mean. Did you mean it the other day when you said you hate Him?”
“No. I was hurt and angry, too. I still am.”
“I know.” He paused. “It’s okay to have those feelings, but eventually we have to learn to deal with our pain and our loss in a different way.”
“Daddy said you deal with your loss by chasing after the wrong women.”
The words pulled a cynical chuckle from Bryce. “Your daddy said a lot of things. He was very wise like that.” I wi
sh he’d been wise enough to accept the damn truck.
“I hope they like the clothes I picked out,” Jason said, crawling back across the seat.
“I’m sure they will, son.” Bryce swallowed back another lump and willed his heart to be still.
Jason thought his parents should be buried in their best ski outfits with poles and skis in tow, just in case it snowed in heaven. Bryce couldn’t think of anything Michael and Lauren would enjoy more than spending eternity on the slopes, hand in hand. That is, if it snowed in heaven.
*
Bryce had just put Anastasia down for a nap and was on his way back downstairs to rejoin the guests who’d gathered from the funeral service when the house phone rang.
He hurried to the nearest connection—the sitting area of the second floor and picked up the cordless extension. He froze for a moment as he recalled his conversation with Alyssa in this very spot, two days ago. Besides burying his wife, telling Alyssa that her parents were dead was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He’d broken Alyssa’s heart. The memory of her tears and the sounds of her sobs would haunt him for a very long time. He hoped that in time he’d find a way to put the shattered pieces of her little life back together.
Bryce straightened up, pressed the answer button, and raised the receiver to his ear. “Hello?”
“Who’s this?”
“Who’s this?” Bryce was taken aback at the question, even as he recognized the voice.
“Jack. Kaya’s fiancé. Can you grab her for me?”
Bryce sucked in a sharp breath and walked to the railing overlooking the spacious first-floor parlor where people stood or sat around in small groups, talking. The air was still pulsing with life—music and chatter—because that is what Michael and Lauren wanted. No mourning, they’d instructed, just laughter and cheer. And laughter and cheer is what Bryce had given them. He’d invited the funeral attendees to L’etoile du Nord, and hired Andreas to cater the event.
It was getting late, and the important guests, like Pastor Kelly, Samantha, and the faithful members of Granite Falls Community church had already made their judicious departure. He was quite anxious for the rest to scoot, most of whom were a bunch of free-loaders who’d jumped at the opportunity to see the inside of his home and feast on Andreas’ cuisine for free.