Shaking her head, she kissed his cheek, hugged Nissa, and reached for the last gift under the tree, the one from Alex.
Throughout all of this, Alex had kept to his promise and checked in weekly. Some weeks, Evie appreciated it. Others, not so much. If she was having a good week and in a better mood, he would bring up getting back together. He never pushed when she shut it down and never tried to guilt her, but he always circled back eventually, the same way he had in their sex life.
Evie had sent his Christmas gift to the office with Thorn on the twenty-second, since she’d requested no contact at all between the twenty-third and New Year’s Eve. She needed a break from anything that added extra stress. Thorn had broughtAlex’s gift back that evening, and she placed it under the tree with the others.
When she opened it, she found a lingerie set and a note saying he hoped to tie her up while she wore it soon. It was so wildly inappropriate that Nissa had to catch her by the arm and stop her from storming down to his apartment.
“He probably bought it before you two broke up,” Nissa said gently, rubbing Evie’s upper arms. “You bought his in November.”
“I bought him the hiking backpack he wanted,” Evie hissed, mortified that she had opened something so intimate in front of her mother, Tommy, and Thorn. “Don’t tell me this isn’t piss-poor taste, Nissa.”
“No, it is,” Nissa agreed quickly. “But you told him you’d be open to getting back together once things settled. He probably didn’t think you’d open it on Christmas morning in front of everyone.”
Grumbling, Evie admitted she was probably right and decided to let it go. Still too embarrassed to go back to the living room, she headed into the kitchen to check on the turkey and start the sides. Thorn joined her a few minutes later, pulling the bag of potatoes toward him and reaching for a peeler.
“Should we talk about -”
“No.” Evie cut him off immediately. “Not now, not ever. As far as you, Tommy, and my mother are concerned, that didn’t happen.”
**********
The rest of Christmas passed quietly. Della went back to the hospice the next day. Her energy dropped sharply over the following days, and on New Year’s Day, she went to sleep at her usual bedtime and didn’t wake again. She passed in the earlymorning hours of January third with Evie and Tommy sitting at her bedside.
Della had already arranged her memorial and cremation with the staff at Calvary and with Fred Hurst, so all Evie had to do was call the funeral home to arrange the pickup and pack the few belongings her mother had in her room.
She had made Evie the executor of her estate, but there was very little to manage. Della had already given everything she wanted Evie and her brothers to have and had donated or gifted the rest. The money in her accounts was split evenly between Evie, the Church of Notre Dame, and the Calvary.
The only thing Evie didn’t know what to do with was the ashes. She brought them home after the memorial and placed them on her fireplace mantle, but admitted to Tommy that, as irrational as it sounded, having them in her apartment made her uncomfortable.
The next morning, while she was eating breakfast, Tommy showed up at her door and told her to get ready because he had a solution. When she came back out, he was standing beside her door with the urn in his hands.
“Where are we going?” Evie grabbed her last piece of toast and followed him to the elevator.
“The cemetery,” he said with a small smile. “I figured Della would be happier next to Mom than in your apartment.”
Evie stared at him for a moment, the toast falling from her hand, then threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears. Tommy wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close as the elevator descended, letting her sob against his shoulder.
She tried to stop, but it was like the last two months of stress and grief finally broke loose and refused to settle.
When the doors opened, she was vaguely aware of Tommy guiding her toward the Escalade he used when Thorn drove him. He helped her into the backseat and climbed in behind her. She didn’t know how he managed it, but within fifteen minutes, Thorn was behind the wheel, taking them to the cemetery while Evie cried harder than she had since her mother first got sick.
She wasn’t even sure why Tommy’s gesture had hit her so hard. She had barely cried when Della died and barely cried at the memorial, staying composed as she greeted her mother’s surviving brothers and their wives, most of whom she hadn’t seen since her grandfather’s funeral when she was fifteen.
She was still crying when they reached the vault. Tommy gently eased himself out of her hold, and Thorn slid into his place, lifting her onto his lap and holding her against his chest while he rubbed her back in slow circles. Tommy met with the attendants and placed Della’s ashes in the vault, then returned and drove them back to the tower. Evie must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, Nissa was helping her into her nightdress, settling her in bed, and stroking her hair until she drifted off again.
**********
Tommy
Tommy and Thorn both looked up when Nissa came out of Evie’s bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.
“She’s asleep,” Nissa whispered. “Poor thing’s absolutely exhausted. She barely woke up enough to change.” She glanced back toward the room, concern pulling her brows together. “I told you she was avoiding her emotions by focusing on making Christmas perfect instead of facing that her mother was dying.”
“She buries herself in the details and hides behind logic,” Tommy said with a tired sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face as he stood. “I’ve never seen her break down like that before. When Mom died, Della drowned her emotions in alcohol, and unless it was anger, Oscar was emotionally constipated. I don’t think I ever heard him tell either of them he loved them. It’s no wonder she struggles to express anything real.”
He looked at Thorn, who was settling himself on the couch and tucking a pillow behind his head.
“I take it you’re staying here?”
