A Beautiful Funeral
Page 40

“He is,” Alyssa said. “In every sense of the word.”
“Then why did you want to be here?”
“Curiosity, mostly. The rest is sentiment.”
I fidgeted, suddenly nervous about her intentions. “Are you going to tell him who you are?”
“No,” Alyssa said. She looked down. “Especially not now. It would be inappropriate to drop that on him when he’s grieving his uncle.”
Even with no sleep and her long hair pinned back, she had barely aged since the last time I’d seen her. Her long, straight dark hair and doe eyes reminded me of Cher when she was married to Sonny, with the exception of killer curves which made her look more like an actress who played an agent on TV than a real one. Without chasing around children and having only herself to take care of, she had aged far better than I had. It was easy to feel threatened as I stood there in lounge pants, an oversized T-shirt, ten years of marital baggage, and crow’s feet around my eyes. Alyssa was a supermodel who could steal my husband and a kick-ass FBI agent who could steal my son. The inferiority I felt was crushing.
I glanced back at Taylor, who turned his head, pretending he hadn’t been watching. I wasn’t sure if he was listening or staring at Alyssa.
“I don’t begrudge you moments with Hollis,” I said. “I’ve often wondered how you did it, how you just walked away and didn’t look back. It’s just …”
“Confusing,” Alyssa said, finishing my sentence. “I understand. And I don’t want to make this week any more difficult for you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I couldn’t win him over if I tried. I just … wanted to see him.”
“Hollis?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. The words just came tumbling out of my mouth, and my cheeks instantly caught fire.
“Of course, Hollis. Who else?”
I glanced at Taylor to see if he was watching. He turned away, caught again. I wanted to pack my things and get on the first plane back to Colorado. Embarrassment normally made me ragey, but I couldn’t even muster enough dignity to get angry.
“Oh. No,” Alyssa said. “No, no, no. You misunderstand. Completely. Totally.”
I crossed my arms, feeling absolutely insane. I was actually indignant that she wasn’t interested in Taylor.
She noticed my irritation and sighed. “Let me rephrase. Taylor was never an option. It was always you. I knew it then. I know it now.”
It was a strange feeling to have someone so threatening offer me so much comfort.
Alyssa paused and then crept up the hallway. She walked quietly up to the front door and then pressed her ear against the wood. She listened for a moment and then rolled her eyes, yanking open the door. Olive jerked to a stop, waiting for permission to come in. Alyssa opened the door the rest of the way and then closed and locked the door behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Olive said. “I’m not used to it being locked.”
Alyssa gestured for her to go ahead and then returned to her spot in the living room. I watched Olive hug Taylor, Tyler, and Ellie, and then she walked toward me. Years ago, I stopped wondering when my heart would stop pounding in my chest when she was around. She threw her arms around me, and I hugged her, flattening her hair against the back of her head. I knew exactly how Alyssa felt, and I had no excuse to make her feel anything but welcome. Hollis was her son, too. Just because she’d walked away didn’t mean she didn’t love him.
“Coffee?” I asked Olive, bringing the sugar and creamer to the table.
She shook her head and followed me. “I just had my second cup before coming over.”
“How’s your mom?” I asked, sitting next to Taylor. “Is she ready for you to move into the dorms?”
Olive shook her head and smiled, snickering. “Not at all. She’s such a baby.”
I playfully poked her. “Cut her some slack. It’s a big deal.” My phone buzzed. I checked it and put it away.
“I told her about Thomas. She’s going to bring Jim a casserole later,” Olive said.
“That’s sweet,” I said. I used my finger to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. She was a young woman now, creeping closer every day to the age I was when I brought her into the world. She was working at a local grocery store as a cashier like she had every summer since she was fifteen, but this would be her last before college.
Taylor took a sip. “Thank you, baby.” He tensed when he realized what he’d said, but I covered his hand with mine. The rules seemed trivial now, the terms of endearment, the living apart until I’d felt Taylor had done his time and felt sufficiently kicked while he was down. He could have lost his job and gone to jail, and I wanted to punish him more. My heart sank. I was wrong. I’d been wrong.
“Taylor,” I began, but my phone buzzed. I checked it and again put it away.
“Is that the kids?” Taylor asked.
“No,” I said simply.
His gaze fell to my back pocket. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Is it weird that I’m mad at him?” Tyler blurted out, looking at his twin.
“Mad at who?” Taylor asked.
“Thomas. I’m fucking pissed. I keep thinking that if he were here, I would punch him in his lying fucking face.”
Taylor shook his head.
“I feel like that’s weird,” Tyler said. “Like I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do.” His bottom lip trembled. “And then I remember he’s not here, and he’s not going to be here. But I’d still punch him, and then I’d hug him until he wouldn’t let me hug him anymore.”
Ellie rubbed Tyler’s back. “That’s not weird. This is all very confusing. Feelings aren’t wrong. Whatever you’re feeling is exactly what you should feel.”
I smiled at my sister-in-law. She’d gone from drunken pill popper to a meditating, full-lotus-posing soccer mom. She’d worked so hard to get sober and had spent a fortune in rehabilitation before Gavin came along. She was not only sober, but she was beginning to sound like her therapist, and I loved it.
“Falyn?” Olive said.
Without fail, when she said my name, my heart would sing. Because of Taylor, I was able to be involved in her life more than I ever thought possible. She was our flower girl at our wedding, she babysat Hollis and Hadley when we visited, and now, she was sitting next to me, my mirror image, looking at me for advice. I rested my chin on the heel of my hand and looked at her with a smile. “Yes, love?”
“When do you think the funeral will be? I should ask for the day off. I want to be there.”
“I’ll ask Papa when he wakes up. We’re going to have to decide a lot of things today, so he should get some rest.”
She picked at her nails, nodding absently. “Yes, ma’am.”
I looked to Taylor, wishing I could thank him for that moment, and every moment with Olive before that one. I’d been wrong, and it was time to admit it to both of us. My phone buzzed again. I didn’t check it this time.
Taylor looked down to the source of the noise. His shoulders sagged. “Is that who I think it is?”
I hesitated. “I … don’t know who it is.”
“Falyn,” Taylor said, sounding tired. “Is it him?”
“Who?” Tyler asked.
“Peter Lacy,” Taylor said.