Page 87 of Legacy

“I guess that makes sense. But I don’t know. I always thought he would go and find a way to relax more.”

“He was able to when you came on. We both know that.”

I wiped a tear and let my hand fall back to cross in front of me. “I always felt as if he trusted me every time he gave me more responsibility.”

“He trusted you with everything. You know that.”

I swallowed hard, my gut aching. The will had already been read, as it had taken a couple of days to get the funeral ready. And our town lawyer had wanted to make sure I understood what was coming my way.

Because he had left the damn company to me. And I had no idea what to do with that.

“When Gregory’s wife died, we all mourned Sascha.” My mom let out a breath. “She was so sweet and helped him around the office. She wasn’t an accountant, but she made sure that he had everything he needed for the business. She ran the church bake sale and, along with the mayor’s wife at the time, fixed each bridge in town to ensure we had safe roadways for our children. Martha and Gregory were the ones who opened up the new school so we could split the buildings into three different schools on the north end, albeit smaller buildings, versus having everybody in one place and all of the children stepping all over each other like we had when I was younger. Gregory put so much into this town. And I’m going to miss him.”

I swallowed hard, wiping away another tear. “I miss him more and more each day. And I hate that he’s gone. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now, Mom.”

“You mourn him. You mourn him, and you do what you can to ensure that you allow his legacy to move on.”

“And what is his legacy?”

“You baby. You.” She kissed my temple, her arm falling away, and I let the cold seep in until two other strong sets of shoulders pinned me in.

“I’m glad you came.” I looked up at Atlas, who just smiled at me.

“I’m glad I came too. I loved that old man. You know, he used to give me different sour candies when I would visit, just because he said I had a sour expression on my face.”

“You know damn well you put that face on so that way you could get your favorite candy,” Rune said dryly. My brother reached up and tugged on his septum piercing slightly, moving it around.

Atlas winced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Rune rolled his eyes. “I’m just rotating it. It doesn’t hurt. You should get your nose pierced. Join the family lore.”

“I would, but then some guy would rip it out by accident, or I’d lose a tooth.”

I looked up at my NHL star brother and rolled my eyes. “How you have a full set of teeth, I will never know.”

“Maybe if he was a starter and was actually on the ice more, he’d lose some,” Rune teased, and I leaned down as the two of them guffawed behind me.

“Boys,” my dad warned as he came forward.

Both brothers punched each other’s shoulders, and I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh at one of my dear friend’s funerals. Because sometimes it felt as if our family had never been apart, as we fell comfortably into our own positions.

“We weren’t doing anything,” Atlas said quickly, and Rune nodded.

“You three are ridiculous.” My dad clucked his tongue before he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” I said softly.

“You encourage them like you always have.”

“Well, we’re nothing if not on a schedule and routine,” Rune said dryly.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay for long. I have to head back. We have a game coming up tomorrow that I don’t want to be late for, or the coach will chew my ass.”

“We’ll all be down for the hockey game in Denver. So you better kick their ass,” Dad said solemnly.

“Please don’t curse at a funeral,” Mom said as she came up and leaned against Dad.

Dad just winked.