Killian had acted in the movie, which is the only reason why we’d agreed to go to the premiere in the first place; to support a friend. Plus, two of our tracks were on the movie soundtrack.
“We need to be there for the funeral,” Evan stated, his eyes going to the open door that separated my hotel room from Cal’s. His hotel room was directly across the hallway, but he made no move to head over there.
I was itching to call Connor and see how she was. I hoped like hell her grandfather’s death hadn’t destroyed her like it did Calum, but even then…I knew she’d be hurting badly. Connor was extremely close to her grandfather.
Frank had been getting up there in age, but I think a lot of Calum’s reaction had to do with the fact he hadn’t seen his grandfather in person for a couple of years, and he’d been sideswiped by his loss.
Regret and spite had kept Calum from returning, and now he had to live with the fact he’d missed out on precious time with his grandfather: time he hadn’t known was so limited.
Frank’s passing would hit Connor hard too, there was no doubt about that. But she wouldn’t disappear in a bottle, she’d let herself feel every moment of grief. I wanted to be there to hold her through it.
“Wewillbe there for the funeral.” I said, a note of finality in my tone. If I had to call the head of the label myself, we’d be there. We owed a lot to Frank Murphy—he was practically family—but it wasn’t just that. I needed to be there for Connor because I knew it would hit her hard too. “Go get some sleep though. We’ll be up early wrangling Cal to the airport.”
Evan nodded solemnly. His normally playful disposition had dissipated the moment Tai told us about Frank. “Yeah, you’re right. ‘K, I’m going to crash. What time are we waking up?”
“Three,” I replied. I waited until he’d closed the door to my hotel room before pulling my phone out of my pocket. Before calling Connor, I fired off a text to Killian to let him know Frank Murphy had passed, and we’d all likely miss the premiere. Anyone who knew Calum knew how important his grandfather was to him, and not just because of all he did for us.
Frank was a good man and had been an additional father figure to Cal throughout his life. He’d helped build Calum’s confidence, whereas Michael challenged it. I wasn’t expecting Killian to be up, but he replied with, “Oh shit, I’m sorry to hear that. From what I’ve heard, Frank was a cool dude—don’t worry about missing the premiere.”
Tai would be pissed I took things into my own hands, but right then, I didn’t care. I wanted to ensure we’d be at that funeral.
I stood up from the couch, my phone still in my hand.Crossing over to the connecting door, I closed it a little, leaving it open a crack so I could make sure Cal got up for his flight. Then I went to the other side of my hotel room, into the bathroom, and closed that door before calling Connor.
I sat on the edge of the tub and dialed her number.It was nearly two in the morning there, but I knew I would find her wide awake.
“Hello?” she whispered, her voice cracking.
“Connor,” I said her name on an exhale, aching to hold her. “Are you okay?”
“Not really, no.” She sounded as if she’d been crying, her voice thick with sadness. “How’s Cal?” Of course, her first concern would be how her brother was handling it.
“He’s…pretty destroyed. Tai got him tickets on the first flight out in the morning…but he hit the whiskey pretty hard when we got back to his room.”
“Do you think he’ll actually come home?”
“Yeah, he’ll be on that plane, Connor. I’ll make sure of it, even if I have to carry him on myself. He’ll hate himself even more if he stays away,” I said, knowing it to be true.
“You’re right. Will you be coming too?” I could detect the hope in her voice, and it made that ache even deeper.
I didn’t answer for a moment. I hated I wasn’t going to be joining Cal on that flight back home, that it’d be days before I could hold her again. “Tai says she can’t spare us.”
In that moment, I detested our organized personal assistant for keeping me from Connor when all I wanted to do was go to her. I wanted to help ease her pain, and maybe temporarily forget her loss. Give her something to focus on that wasn’t tragic.
“Oh.” The disappointment was evident in her voice, she was too exhausted and sad to mask it.
“We’ll fly out for the funeral, no matter what, okay? We’ll be there,” I promised. “Do you know when it is yet?”
“No, Mom has to go to the funeral home tomorrow to make arrangements,” she replied, her tone ladened with sadness. I yearned to hold her, to chase her sadness away.
“I’m sorry I can’t be there right now, holding you.” My voice was heavy with regret and longing. Even with all the distance separating us, even with her silence…I knew she needed me.
“It’s okay,” she assured me, even though she sounded far from okay.
“I…” I trailed off, catching myself. “I miss you, Connor.”
“I miss you, too,” she whispered.
I yawned, the exhaustion of the day finally hitting me. We’d been on a tour bus for hours before arriving in Vancouver.
