“I’m glad I could help.” And I thank God I came through for her. I’ll be honest, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, or if the family would be happy about it. I took a chance and it paid off. The only thing that matters—no—the only person that matters, is Angie. She got what she needed from today.
“It was like you instantly knew what to do.” She takes my hand. “Thank you.”
“No probs.” A lump forms in my throat and I try to clear it. “Shall I grab those beers now?”
“Yeah, why not,” Calla says as Ash enters the kitchen.
“Guys, I need a word. The funeral home just called.” He stops abruptly, chewing his bottom lip.
“What? Just say it.” Angie seems just a little stronger. I hope this is the beginning of her healing.
“They wanted to know if the cremation could take place tomorrow morning. I told them yes. It’s better if this happens sooner rather than later. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yes.” Angie looks down. “I know you’re right.”
“Do you want to be there?” Ash asks.
She closes her eyes briefly. “I can’t let him go alone.”
“We can all go,” Ash says, looking at his wife.
“Yeah, we should all be there,” Calla adds. She’s finding it just as hard to say goodbye to Scott. Fuck, I feel for her.
“I’m sorry that you have to go through it twice, Cal. That was selfish of me,” Angie sobs.
Jesus, my heart can’t take much more.
“Hey, don’t do that to yourself. I understand. He’s your husband and you know what? I’m so grateful he had you byhis side every day.” She hugs Angie once more, just as my phone buzzes in my pocket.
It’s no surprise to see Chelsea calling. What does she want now? In order to speak privately and not disturb their family moment, I head into the sitting room where Max has Zoe on his back, playing horses. I smile at their game, knowing once I take this call, I won’t be smiling for a while. I thought I made it clear to Chelsea that we’re better apart, but she doesn’t want to listen.
“Yeah?” I answer.
“Where the bloody hell have you been? I’m going out of my mind here. Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
A deep sigh leaves my mouth as I answer in a low tone. “Do you ever stop to think of anyone but yourself? It was Scott’s funeral today, Chelsea. Some respect might not go amiss.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot. What with the time difference and everything.”
Now there’s a crock of shit. It’s the afternoon there. “And you shouldn’t be stalking Brett, either.”
“What do you mean by that?” she barks down the phone.
“You found his number somewhere.”
“I got it from a friend he hooked up with once, but that’s not the point. I’ve been going crazy, Tommy. You know you wouldn’t have this hassle if you could only see how good we are together?—”
“Don’t, Chelsea.”
A few seconds of silence pass before she asks, “How did it go?” There’s guilt in her tone.
“As good as these things can, I guess.” There’s no need to tell her more.
“That’s good.”
There’s silence again, making me question exactly what I have left to give this girl.
“When are you coming home?”
