Page 19 of The Forbidden Note

Of the three of us, Dutch is the most ready for that kind of life.

“How’s Cadey holding up?” Finn asks.

“She’s insisting she’s fine and wants to do everything by herself.”

“That why you’re here drinking with us instead of at her apartment helping her pack?”

Dutch scowls. “She told me to come home. Said I’m breathing down her neck.”

“For the record, women never push me away when I’m breathing down their neck.”

“Is that why I saw Miss Jamieson ripping you a new one in the parking lot?” Dutch spits back.

Touché, brother.

I take a swig rather than admit defeat.

Dutch stares straight ahead. “Cadey wants to go through her mother’s things on her own. I agreed to give her a few hours.”

“Marriage is about compromise,” Finn says wisely.

Dutch’s wedding ring glints in the light as he lifts his beer. “I’ll let her pack on her own. I’ll even let her decide where we live. But I’m hiring a funeral parlor so she doesn’t have to think about all those details. She’s got enough on her plate.”

“She’ll still have to direct the funeral people. Tell them what she wants,” Finn says.

I glance at my brother. “How do you know that?”

“That’s common-sense.”

“I’d rather she didn’t mess with this funeral at all. It was bad enough she had to lie to the police and falsely identify a dead body last year. This year, she’s doing it all over again. Except she has Viola’s grief to handle on top of her own. She shouldn’t have to go through the motions of a memorial service twice.”

I twirl my drumstick around my fingers. “I’ll do it.”

Both Finn and Dutch stare at me.

“You’ll do what?” Dutch blinks slowly.

“I’ll plan the funeral.”

“Like hell you will,” my twin grunts.

“What’s wrong with me planning it?”

“You?” Dutch’s eyebrows fly to the top of his head. “Between you and Sol, I don’t know who skips class the most. You barely show up to gigs sober and you want to plan a funeral for my wife?”

“Ugh.” I groan. “You’re going to throw that phrase in as often as possible, aren’t you?”

“Sheismy wife.”

I shudder dramatically again.

“Let him be,” Finn says, turning the page. “The funeral is cutting into his honeymoon. Plus we have school on Monday. Things are going to get a lot less romantic. He might as well experiencesomebenefit of being married.”

“Makes sense. Having to identify your mother-in-law’s dead body can put a damper in the bedroom.”

Dutch scowls harder and takes another sip.

I fall into the beach chair beside my twin. “Come on. Let me plan it. It’ll be fun.”

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