“I’m notthirsty.”
“It’s vodkasoda.”
“God, I love you.” Denise accepted the glass and took a long, bracingdrink.
“I figured you could use it. You’re looking kind ofstabby.”
She grimaced. “I thought I was hiding it better thanthat.”
“You’re probably fooling everyone who doesn’t know you as well as I do.” She stared down at her own glass. “Chris mentioned you looked like you could use adrink.”
Denise sighed. She’d seen him at the funeral, but hadn’t spoken with him. Even with the small glances she’d stolen, it was hard to miss how good he looked in a suit. “He’s only here because the FBI was hoping Eddie would showup.”
“Actually, that’s not true. Well, it may have been a bonus, but I asked him to come to thefuneral.”
She lowered her glass and stared at Bree. “Why?”
Her best friend gave her ayou’re being denselook. “Because regardless of what happened between you two, he still cares about you. He asks how you’re doing every time I see him. And not as an FBI agent. I knew today was going to be hard for you and I knew you’d need all the support you could get. He’s here for the same reason Gran was—to supportyou.”
Not for the first time that day, tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away, unwilling to show that much weakness in a room full ofstrangers.
Bree rubbed her upper arm. “I didn’t mean to upsetyou.”
She nodded sharply. “I know. I just—I can’t deal with anything else right now.” She took a large sip from herdrink.
“Please tell me there’s alcohol in that glass,” her mom said as she joinedthem.
Denise handed the glass over and watched as her mom drained itscontents.
“Don’t tell your father. He’ll be mad I didn’t share.” She looked at Bree. “Hello, dear. That was rather rude ofme.”
Bree grinned. “That’s okay, Karen. I completely understand. Why aren’t wedrinking?”
Her mom let out a long-suffering sigh. “Sarah’s best friend, Melissa, thought it would be inappropriate with so many of Sarah’s students coming. Might give them the wrong impression of how to handlegrief.”
Denise scoffed. “She should have had it at her place then.” She liked Melissa, in small doses, but she was rather uptight andproper.
“The thought crossed my mind, but she lives in a one-bedroom apartment and we’re Sarah’s family. It wouldn’t have beenright.”
Looking around at all the people crammed into her cousin’s small house, Denise said, “There’s not that much more room here. That’s why we should have kept it to family and closefriends.”
“Don’t you start. It’s bad enough your father’s bitching about, and I quote, ‘All the damn people in this tiny-ass house.’” Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down hercheeks.
“Mom?”
“And now I’m out-numbered.” Her mom threw her hands up in a hopeless gesture. “Neither you nor your father are emotional. I could always count on Sarah to cry during sappy movies with me.” A sob shook hershoulders.
“Oh, Mom.” Denise pulled her into a hug, resting her cheek on the top of her head. “I’ll watch sappy movies withyou.”
“But you won’t cry!” More sobs shook her mom’s shoulders as her arms tightened aroundDenise.
Oh, jeez.She was never going to live down not crying duringThe Notebook. She scanned the room, searching for her dad. He must have been watching them, because he was threading his way through the mourners, heading theirdirection.
When he reached them, he gathered her mom in his arms and tucked her against his chest. At six-foot-three, he towered over her five-foot-fivemom.
“Hi, Bree. Sorry about the waterworks,” hesaid.
“That’s okay, Frank. It’s an appropriate day forwaterworks.”
