I crawl into bed with her, and she falls into my side. “I wanted to be here for you last night, but Ned needed me. Jase took good care of you.”
Her one free hand trembles. “I can’t get over her lifeless body. Elise had been so upset with us for putting her in the middle. I’m so mad at myself. Why did we do all of that to her?”
Kissing the top of her head, I attempt not to break. Kat had been right. All of this is hitting me at once. Seeing the woman I love fall apart is the last straw. “You listen here, darlin’, Elise Landon never did anything Elise Landon didn’t want to do. She was there for the two of us, because it was her nature and she loved you so much.”
“But, why is everything taken from me? We were supposed to have years together. She was the mother I’ve always wanted.”
“She may not have been here as much as you would have liked, but she showed you what a real mother is. It was something you always wanted—remember you told me this once at the lake.”
A little giggle escapes her mouth. It’s music to my ears and it’s nutrients for my soul. “You always know what to say,” she murmurs.
She looks up into my eyes, and my expression sours. “I’m about to tell you something you won’t want to hear.”
She shifts Scottie from one side to the other and I look away again. “Oh, yeah, what is it?”
She’s still crying. It’s a loss she won’t get over soon, just like Scott.
“Christine flew in this morning.” My words are quick like I’m ripping off a bandage, fast but painful.
She slaps her hand down on the bed. “Ah, shit, when it rains it fucking pours.” I pull her in tight, laughing at her. It’s when your life is so low we need to find the one little thing that puts a smile on our face, and Holland’s reaction to Christine is this little distraction we need.
Jase leaves with a now satisfied and fed baby, Holland stays in bed as I attempt to clean up the glass and broken dishes. Down on my hands and knees, my head is on the floor hunting for stray pieces.
“What in the world are you doing?” Her voice startles me, and I hit my head on the bottom cabinet.
“Shit, darlin’, don’t sneak up on me.” My voice is all teasing because she’s out of bed—this is a start.
Still on my knees, I raise my body a tad, her eyes focus on something right above my eyes. A cold wet drop falls down my face. Wiping it off, I see it is blood.
“Shit, Maguire, I’m sorry.” She rushes to me, falling to her knees like I’m bleeding out. Her hands are wiping the blood before it can fall into my eyes.
“Holland, I’m fine, really, I am.” She drops into my arms. “A little blood has never bothered me.”
I settle both of us with my back against a cabinet. She holds me tight. “Shit, I guess this is what you call someone overreacting.”
Hell, with all the shit she’s been through, I don’t blame her. “It’s okay.” I hold her close. She laces her hands with my own. Pulling her hand up to my lips, I kiss it. “But, I’m yours today. As crazy as Christine is, she’ll take good care of Scottie.”
She moans. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“What do you want to do?” When she doesn’t answer, I nudge her a little. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Someone you love so much not here and we’re just expected to go on with life—without them.”
A sniffle escapes her lips. “Yeah, we’ve been this route before. It sucks.”
From her profile, I notice how her lips turn into a pout. And again, I’m reminded of how young she truly is. Yet, she’s had to grow up so fast. In the way she cares for her daughter, playfully interacts with Teagan or loves me. The last part I have no doubt about, not when she’s sitting in my lap, lacing her fingers in mine and stroking my arm with her free hand.
“So, getting up and doing something right now isn’t going to disrespect Elise’s memory. It’s not going to invalidate what you were to her. No, choosing to get up, taking a shower, doing something—anything, actually honors the person she was to the both of us. Mourning like this, even though it’s only been twenty-four hours certainly would have Elise mad as hell.”
She tilts her head toward my own, her brows furrowed. “Are you telling me I stink?” A playful smile creeps onto her face when she slugs me.
“Well, you certainly haven’t lost your touch,” I tease, rubbing my arm because - shit, her punches fucking hurt.
She stands and extends her hand, helping me up. “Yeah, gotta give you some aid, old man.”
I let her ribbing go, knowing anything I can do to extinguish the grief is worth all the teases in the world.
She’s out of the shower, a towel around her head like a turban. “What in the world are you doing?” she asks me, watching me shuffling cards.
I can feel both my eyebrows raise in a sort of duh moment when she smirks. It’s fanfuckingtastic to see a little bit of a smile on her face, even though her cheeks are red and her eyes puffy.
“Well, okay, obviously you’re shuffling cards, but why?”
She turns from me, poking at her phone until the music plays from her speakers. “Shit, no one owns a stereo anymore. Everything is finagled through their phones.” Again, her emu shit is playing. I have no idea if this music is truly emo, it’s just not my music. “What the hell is this?” I ask.
“It’s a song called ‘Strange Love’ by Halsey,” she explains and the irony of the song is not lost on me. Moving to the kitchen, she grabs us both beers, setting them down. “Why are you so old?”
“Oh, darlin’, I’m not old, I’m aged like a good bottle of wine,” I counter.
“Or a stinky wheel of cheese.”
Fuck, her comeback is both ridiculous and funny at the same time and as I deal the cards for a game of war, we’re both laughing, forgetting the cares of the world.
I listen to this song I don’t recognize and start to laugh. “Why do they say the word fuck so much?”
In mid-sip of her beer, she spits it out all over our cards. “Oh, hell, and you’re one to talk.”
This makes us both giggle hysterically like teenage girls and like before, I find myself staring in between hysterics at the beauty of Holland, happy to see a little color return to her face.
We spend most of the day drinking beer and playing silly card games—Go Fish being one of them, though it’s not as fun to play with only two people. We’re lost in our world, something other than dealing with a second horrific loss when Christine calls.
I don’t say hi when she starts in like she had when we were married. “Do you think you’re coming home sometime tonight? Scotland wants to nurse.” Looking at the several bottles lining her kitchen counter, I almost laugh in Christine’s ear.
“Yeah, actually, why don’t you bring Scottie back to Holland’s apartment.” I don’t wait for Christine to bitch, as I’m sure she will. She’ll find out soon enough we’re both a little inebriated and I’ll get the same bitch lecture I remember from twenty years ago.
“Did you just hang up on Christine?” She slurs her words. “Oh, someone’s in big trouble,” she almost sings this last part.
“Yeah, we both are. Ready yourself, Holland.” We’re now laughing so hard, I’m grabbing my stomach and she’s doubling over.
“Well, I did sort of dump my baby on her,” she explains, standing to throw away the evidence.
She pulls something from the freezer in a Ziplock bag, starting a pan of water on the stove.
“First, with Chris here, you won’t see your baby much this week, you know this, right?” I ask and she nods yes. “Second, what is this frozen bag of white stuff?” I’m in her space picking it up, inspecting it.
“Ah, it’s my breast milk.” The second she says these words, I drop it like it’s a hot potato, and again, we start busting out in hysterics. “I can’t nurse her, not with as much beer as you’ve pushed at me tonight. Hell, it’s just milk, you freak.”
But when she speaks, we’re close
, too close.
My hand touches her cheek and sparks surge through both of us, and it’s a split second, before my mouth gently moves to hers. “You know I love you, right?” I ask.
No more words are exchanged when she opens and I taste her for the first time since Christmas. But as drunk as we are, we are in full control of our faculties. We know what we’re doing. She nips at my lips, giving me a gentle love bite and kisses me one last time; her tongue dueling with mine, then pulling away.
“Yeah, Sarge, I know you love me.” She doesn’t have to say the same words. I know they’re on the tip of her tongue. And, I can wait.
A large brash knock pulls us farther apart. On the other side of the door is Christine with a cranky baby girl. As Scottie jumps at me, Christine welcomes herself in, looking at Holland and me then the rest of the empty beer cans we’d not gotten around to throwing away.
“Are you drunk?” Her gaze moves from Holland and back to me. And to answer her question, we both burst out in a fit of laughter. Yeah, she sure has the answer to her question.
“I can’t believe you got drunk with your daughter-in-law. Do you understand how inappropriate this is?” Christine is now driving Kat’s car back since I’ve played car tag with everyone today.
Ah, not only did she go off on the two of us when she got to Holland’s apartment, but now it’s just me and she’s lighting into me.
I’m just drunk enough and I say the same words I’d probably say if I weren’t but who knows. “Shut your ever-loving fucking mouth, Chris.” She’s driving and slams on the brakes, turning toward me as if I lost my mind.
“What did you just say to me?” she demands.
“I’m not married to you, you can’t boss me around. And furthermore, Holland is letting you watch Scotland all this week while you’re here. She doesn’t have to. It’ll mess up the baby’s schedule, which is important to her. So, don’t come all up in here and think you can lecture me because Holland and I blew off a little steam in our grief.”
She pulls back onto the road and doesn’t say another word the rest of the way home. She leaves right away for my room, the one I’ve given her during her stay, without a goodnight. No sweat off my back. After all, giving myself a break from Christine, knowing tomorrow, Ned and I have to meet with the funeral director, is all I want. Before I crash on the couch, I grab my phone, sending one last text to Holland.
Me: I had a good time with you today.
Sleep’s about to take its toll, along with the alcohol when her return text has me quickly grabbing for my phone.
Darlin’: Me, too, Sarge. Me, too.
I fall asleep happy.
It rains on the day of Elise’s funeral. Ned had wanted it simple, a small graveside service for close family and friends. It still encompasses close to a hundred people. And because Ned could barely get through the service, he’d asked for no sort of reception or get-together afterward.
I’m getting ready to hop in the car with Christine, who’s barely been without my daughter, as she’s latching Scottie into her car seat. My name is called from behind me. Twirling around, I fall in my heels. Yeah, if this hasn’t been a shitty enough day, add a broken ankle to the list. Looking up, I’m faced with the sweet ginger who’d kissed me on the way to Chinese takeout just weeks earlier. Shit, our date is supposed to be this coming weekend.
Extending his hand, he pulls me up as he helps me over to the car for me to lean on something. But, hell, I’d lean on him all day long. Ah, fiddlesticks, this is Elise’s funeral. I can’t ogle the good looking redhead no matter how much I want to.
“I wish I had your phone number. I wanted to call you so many times to find out if you were doing okay. I guess, I didn’t ask for it because I could always get it from Elise.” When he looks away, I see him swiping a tear spilling from his eyes. “Who would have thought a heart attack would take her from us?” He asks. We’re all still processing the news the coroner gave to Ned just yesterday. He wipes another rogue tear when a sweet smile falls on his face. “She’d been looking so good right before Christmas and now this. When I got the news, I couldn’t breathe. It’s heartbreaking.”
I’m now back in pieces as Christine pops her head from the driver’s side. “Hey, Holland, Scottie is getting restless.”
“Yeah, give me a second.” I turn to him with a gentle smile. “I can’t believe it. I still can’t believe it,” I say as the cries of my daughter fill the outside now.
“Let me give you my phone number. I’m still able to come any weekend you’re up for it. But it doesn’t have to be so soon. I can wait until you’re ready.”
Taking the little piece of paper, I slide it into my purse. I think of Elise and what she’d want me to do. “You know what, Evan, let’s plan for this coming weekend. With Elise, she was all about living life to its fullest.”
A little smirk appears on his face. “You know what—I can hear Elise right now and what she’d say to me.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” I question.
“She’d simply tell me not to let a girl like you slip through my hands. So, I don’t plan on disappointing her.”
I slide into the car, Christine’s eyes on me. I think she’s about to rip into me when her neatly manicured fingers tap on the dashboard. And I almost fall out of the car when instead she says, “You deserve to be happy, Holland.”
It’s so unlike Christine to be kind to me, and I’m looking around for another Holland. And because I think we’re forging a new path, I return, “Thanks, Christine. By the way, I love the rose painted on your index finger.” It’s the truth. As soon as the car starts moving, my angry baby calms as I fall back behind Maguire’s truck.
Ned is nowhere to be seen when we make it back to Maguire’s house. Kat is in the kitchen. She was insistent on doing something for the family Elise considered her own. Before I can make my way to the food because grief must make me ravenous, Teagan pulls me to the side. I had no idea she’s back at the house; appearing like a ninja.
“So, I saw you talking to foxy Evan. Get it, most foxes are red and he’s a ginger?” Right now I need Teagan’s insanity to get me through this day.
“Yeah, you crazy lesbian, I get it.”
“Ah, you have your own little nickname for me. I love it, and it’s so true.” She hugs me and let's go. “Anyway, so Evan….what’s going on there?”
I pull her farther away from prying ears, mostly Maguire’s. “Elise tried some matchmaking before she passed away. Anyway, Evan asked me out right before Christmas for this coming weekend. We were making plans.”
She playfully slugs me. “Getting it on with someone at the funeral, you hussy, I’m so proud of you.”
I shake my head at the freak. “Making plans to go out on a date is not getting it on. And just because you get it on at every event doesn’t mean I do.”
“Yeah, one day, you’ll find your way in this world, my little mama. And I’ll be so proud.”
Hell, I think of Elise and how she’d be hysterical at Teagan’s words if she were here with us.
“You know Elise is up above laughing at you? Right?”
Teagan puts her arm around me and leads me to the kitchen. “Us, little mama, she’s laughing at us.”
I’m sitting on the couch, Josh, Teagan, and Kat are at the dining room table drinking coffee and quietly retelling funny stories about Elise. And Christine insists Scottie needs a nap, laying with her in Maguire’s room.
The sarge sits next to me, handing me a cup of tea with just the right amount of cream in it. “I’m almost afraid Chris isn’t going to leave Scotland.”
“Yeah, it’s my fear too,” I tease but then shudder at the thought of Christine moving here to be close to Scotland since nothing is really keeping her in Virginia with her parents passing a couple years before Scott.
“So, I saw you talking with Evan Waltry.” There’s not a segue into the conversation. He just attacks the topic.
“Yeah, I met Evan through Elise. He seems like a good guy,” I say, leaving it as vague as I can.
“So, anything going on with you two?”
In the photo album of memories I have stored in my mind concerning my husband, this funeral has been the trigger for me of the very loss I’m still processing. Everything Scott replays in my mind without any attempt on my part to recall them—they come on their own. And to make matters worse, the guilt of my impending date hits me, too. And because I now only have my memories of Scott, even if they hurt, I’m not going to stand here and explain myself to Maguire, as the floodgates of all the remembrances of our life together assault me.
I stand, straightening my skirt, putting my hot tea down on his coffee table. “You know what, Sarge, I’m not having this conversation with you.” The emotional trauma I’m still sifting through and the image of Elise’s dead body are more triggers. Considering I’m holding myself together with a small emotional bandage, I stomp to his peninsula island and grab his keys. “When Christine is done hogging my baby, will you please have HER bring Scottie home in my car, and she can grab your truck.” I’m out the door before I have to actually answer the man.
Chapter 17
Scott’s truck is ready for the next stage, the new paint. I’m not an expert, I’ve researched the best company to work on a truck this age and model with what it’s been through. The night before it’s due to be painted, Holland comes out to inspect the paint. And because I know what’s about to go down, I grab Scottie from the back seat when she parks the car.
“Okay, let’s get this over with so you can feed me, Sarge,” she begins. Christine is still here, leaving this weekend, and she’s been itching to get her hands on Scotland today, since Holland had taken Scottie to childcare for the first time since the she-devil has been here.
Following me to the garage, which is almost repaired—with a garage apartment on the ground floor, and most of my tools moved into my new workshop—Holland grabs a flat head screwdriver to open the paint. She’s become pretty handy and comfortable around tools. When the top opens, her mouth echoes like a sailor going out on liberty.
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