I was pressing buttons, verbally expressing my disdain, shooting my mouth off because I thought I knew best. I got into his space and didn’t back down when he tried to intimidate me. It was my fault as much as it was his, because in that moment; I’d wanted him to snap, I’d wanted him to hit me so I would have a justifiable reason for leaving.
Clearing my throat, I pulled my hand away and picked up my mug. “Well, it feels true,” I remarked, tilting my head in the direction he disappeared. “But enough about that. How are you feeling, Mom?”
Mom swallowed, nodding to acknowledge my need to change the subject. She forced a smile, the corners of her lips tight. “I’ll be okay. I miss him, and it hurts, but I know I’ll be okay. It’s not the first time I’ve had to do this. At least he’s with Mam now.”
An hour later, I’d talked Connor into leaving the house, giving me enough time to stop in and pick up my suit. Tai had called in with my measurements shortly after I boarded the plane so I’d have something to wear to the visitation and funeral.
I ran in and picked both suits up, laying them carefully in the trunk of my rented Porsche Boxster, before heading to the best seafood restaurant in town. We used to go there every Sunday for lunch with Gramps and Nan, and later…just Gramps.
Being there without him was harder than I thought it’d be but going anywhere else—especially today—didn’t feel right.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Connor asked, not looking up from her plate. Seafood was my sister’s favourite, but she only picked at the lobster on her plate. Being here was hard for her too, and thoughts of the visitation likely affected her appetite as much as they affected mine.
In hindsight, lunch was probably a bad idea, but I’d needed to get away from the house for a bit. Home for six hours, and already I was anxious to escape, to do something with the restless energy building up inside of my chest.
“Yeah, sure. Fire away,” I replied, the picture of calm as I leaned back in the chair and waited.
“What did your letter from Gramps say?”
I considered her for a moment. “He wants me to talk to Harper.”
My sister’s lips curved in a small smile. She was young when Harper and I were together, but she remembered her. Harper was hard to forget, and she’d joined the Sunday lunches with Gramps, Mom, Connor, and me a few weeks after we started seeing each other. She was the first—and only—girl I’d wanted to bring around Gramps.
Gramps, like the rest of my family, had been just as smitten with Harper as I’d been. She even had Dad’s stamp of approval—a pretty girl with intelligence and drive, one who had steady plans for her future. One that made me think about and constantly question mine.
Moisture gathering in her eyes, the ache of missing him apparent in her irises. “Are you going to do it? Talk to Harper, I mean?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, my brow furrowed, and my gaze went to the window across from us. It overlooked the water and gray skies above it. Ignoring the gawking stares coming from the patrons who’d recognized me, I turned back to my sister. “Gramps has been telling me to talk to her for years.”
Connor nodded, her eyes reflective. “I think you should.”
“Do you now?” The corner of my lip twitched with dark amusement.
“I do,” she repeated, her eyes holding mine. “You were different with her. Not so…aimless.”
“I know.” I could have made some flippant remark, could have shrugged off her assessment of me and slid the mask in place, but I didn’t have the energy, and I wasn’t one to lie to loved ones. Disappear without a word, sure, but I couldn’t look someone I cared about in the eyes and lie to them. I pushed her foot with mine. “What did yours say?”
“He had no complaints of me,” she teased, smiling lightly, her eyes dropping to her untouched plate. I chuckled, knowing that she wasn’t being entirely honest. But I wasn’t about to pry; Connor would talk when she was ready.
“Doesn’t surprise me, Miss Perfect,” I replied before chugging back the remainder of my beer. Connor gave me an unimpressed, pointed look.
“Guess I’m driving home?”
“Guess you are,” I replied, leaning so I could grab my wallet from my back pocket. I tossed down more than enough to cover our bill and a generous tip before we stood.
“Seriously?” she squeaked, catching the keys I tossed at her.
“You’ve got your license, right?” She nodded eagerly, dancing in place, her eyes bright with excitement. “Go for it, then.”
“You’re sure about this?” she asked again, just as I went to open the passenger door. Levelling a look at her, I arched my brows.
“It’s a rental, Con.”
“So? You still have to pay for any damage,” she shifted from one foot to the other, still eyeing the car wistfully.
“Don’t hit anything then,” I shrugged, sliding into the passenger seat and tugging the door shut behind me.
Connor slid in behind the wheel, her eyes wide with excitement and apprehension. As the engine rumbled to life, she ran her hands over the steering wheel affectionately, and tossed me a barely contained smile. “Buckle up!”
