Shit, they’d been married barely a year.
“Fiji,” Saylor’s soft voice brought me back to the conversation.
“Technically on the flight to Fiji,” I interjected. “This one turned me down when I propositioned her to join the mile high club, and that was when I knew I had to lock her down.”
The guys laughed as Saylor groaned.
“Malcolm Hendrix Holt!” My mom’s harsh voice sliced through the laughter.
I winced and feigned hiding behind my wife. Honestly, I’d forgotten she was here.
“Saylor, did he really?” Mom asked.
Saylor lifted her shoulder and then nodded.
The guys laughed some more.
“Boy, you are lucky we have an audience,” Mom scowled in my direction.
I continued to hide behind my wife and ate more of my burrito. Death would be the only thing that’d keep me from finishing Saylor’s amazing food.
“So, uh, Mal, have you had a chance to make any arrangements for Gio’s service?” Leif asked, shattering the levity of the moment.
My best friend’s death would also kill my hunger.
My burrito dropped to the plate with a plop, and I grabbed a paper towel to swipe at my mouth. Swallowing hard, I shook my head. “Not really. I arranged for him to be transported to the funeral home, but I held off on making any plans beyond that.”
“I’d like to help if I can,” Leif offered quietly.
“I think it’s safe to say we all would,” Beau rumbled. “You shouldn’t have to do it alone, man, just because you’re the official next of kin.”
“Yeah,” Ryker agreed. “We wanna help.”
“I can totally post the announcement on all my socials for my followers,” Phoebe offered with zero irony, pressing a hand to her very impressive chest.
I exchange incredulous looks with Ryker.
“Uh, thanks. I think.” I cleared my throat. “I guess that’s the first thing we need to decide. Are we doing a private or a public funeral? Followed by burial or cremation?” I felt like a tool today when I was completely unable to answer any of the funeral director’s basic questions.
“I can’t speak to the first,” Mom offered. “But Gio told me that he wanted to be buried. Fire freaked him out. Remember that time his apartment building had that fire in the middle of the night?”
“Right.” I shook my head. “He said something like that when we had those pyrotechnics on our first tour. He didn’t want any of that shit anywhere near him. Fuck the—”
“Encore.” Ryker finished with a laugh. “You’re not lighting me up like the Stay Puft—”
“Marshmallow Man inGhost Busters,” we all said together before breaking out in laughter.
We’d given him shit for years over his hysterics when it came to pyrotechnics. I don’t know how I’d forgotten about that.
“Right, we’re burying him then.” I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. “And the service?”
We spent the next few hours planning Gio’s service while we traded stories and laughed about Gio’s crazy antics.
It was simultaneously the best and worst night of my life. Gio would’ve loved it though. And having Saylor in my arms made it easier to get through.
After the guys left, and I got my mom settled in one of the guest rooms, I found Saylor back in the closet, staring down at her pile of luggage.
“I guess we’ll have to arrange to have the rest of your clothes shipped here,” I said, leaning against the doorjamb.
