The unfortunate end to a life bitterly lived in a fruitless search for misguided meaning.
Try not to think about what I witnessed.
I tip my head onto Leo’s shoulder and he drapes his arm around me, kissing the top of my head, pausing to deeply inhale. I feel his breath against my scalp and close my eyes, thankful this, at least, came to pass within my parents’ lifetimes.
That I found my life’s meaning. That I answered that question, survived the quest.
That I made peace with myself and in the end found out I already had everything I needed right there. All I had to do was gently close my fingers around it and cup it against my heart and carefully guard the fragile, precious treasure.
That’s all Stella had to do.
“Jordan and I are flying down to Florida tomorrow afternoon,” Leo says, surprising me.
I wasn’t told about this.
I open my eyes and lift my head so I can look at him.
Before I can ask he continues. “We’ll be back tomorrow evening,” he says. “It’s an off-the-books trip. Personal business. Once the attorneys tell me tomorrow morning what, if anything, her will says about her wishes and her belongings, I’ll be able to tell you when we can hold the funeral.”
“Can I come?” Mom asks.
Before Leo can answer, Jordan reaches over and gently grips her arm. “Mom, you…don’t want to see the house. It’s a crime scene. The only reason Leo and I will be granted access is because he knows people. Besides, that’s not how you want to remember…things.”
She nods and looks down into her mug before she takes another sip of her hot tea. “We gave her Gammy’s sapphire earrings and necklace when she graduated from college,” she says. “Light blue. From your father’s mother. They were a wedding present to her from her mother and father, and she gave them to me when we got married.” She sadly sighs and looks up, her eyes unfocused at first before she pins Leo with her gaze. “I’d like you have them. Maybe you can get them made into a ring or something. I’m certain they aren’t very expensive but they’re a family heirloom.” Sharp bitterness floods her tone. “I don’t want any ofhisfamily getting them.”
“I’d be honored, Mom,” Leo says. “Is there anything else we should look for tomorrow? We’ll be able to go back down in a few days. I’ll have the house sealed and guarded and, eh, cleaned once law enforcement finishes and releases it.”
I listen as Mom starts to list things—pictures, a serving dish, and other low-value items that I wouldn’t be shocked if they aren’t there. Items like those—except maybe the pictures, which Stella could easily tuck into a box or photo album—she probably ditched a long time ago as not being part of her “aesthetic.” I’ll be surprised if the jewelry is there.
I realize Jordan’s quietly taking notes on his personal phone as Mom speaks. If those items are anywhere within that house’s walls, I have no doubts our dedicated boy will ferret them out.
“What about your knee?” I finally ask Leo.
He nods toward Jordan. “I promise I’ll let him do most of the looking.”
Jordan gives me a grim smile and a thumbs-up.
I love the boy.
My Sir.
Our husband.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to spill everything to Mom right now, tell her the full truth about the three of us, but then she sighs again, finishes her tea, and stands.
“I’m going to bed, too. Is there anything I need to do tomorrow morning?” she asks.
Jordan stands with her. “No, ma’am. I’ll have a breakfast casserole ready to go, and we can discuss dinner then. Please try to take it easy tomorrow and relax. I can have staff order you movies for the theater, if you want.”
She shakes her head. “No, thank you. The TV up here is fine.”
When he reaches to take the mug from her she doesn’t release it at first, staring at his hands and her own before she finally lets him take it. “Thank you, Jordan. I really appreciate everything you’re doing for us.” She engulfs him in a hug and I stand when she turns, walks over to hug me, and then hugs Leo.
Jordan starts to follow her out but she stays him with a sad smile. “I’ll be all right, sweetie.”
He stands in the doorway and watches, not rejoining us until I’m certain he saw her walk into their bedroom. The mug’s still in his hand.
“Can we go to the ME’s office and play kickball with that fucker’s head?” Jordan growls.
