Page 6 of When I Come Back
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “It’s good to hear your voice. It’s been a long day.”
“I’m so sorry, baby. How can I help? Do you want me to come out there? I can see if I can get a flight tomorrow.” As great as it is to hear her voice, I hesitate to say yes. It’d be nice to not feel so alone here, but thinking of her here doesn’t sit right. She doesn’t fit the life I left behind over a decade ago. I just need to wrap things up here and get back. “Bear?” I’ve been quiet too long.
“No. No, it’s alright. I’ll only be here for a few more days. I’ll come back after the funeral.”
“Are you sure? I’d like to be there for you.”
“Yeah, I’m just going to finalize the arrangements and tie up some loose ends. I’ll see you in a few days. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Okay, of course. I love you, babe.”
I hang up the phone, andlove you, baberepeats over and over in my head, but the voice saying the words isn’t that of the woman waiting for me in Seattle.
Chapter Three
Thea
The funeral is beautiful. I was surprised Carrington remembered how much Hazel loved blue hydrangeas. He clearly called Mr. Goldfinch and took care of everything after our very brief, very awkward meeting at the funeral home. Snapping at him wasn’t my intention, but I couldn’t sit there surrounded by pamphlets about caskets and act like everything was fine anymore. Two of the people I had been closest to in this world died in the blink of an eye, and he wanted to make small talk.
Despite their fractured relationship, Hazel and Owen loved Carrington dearly. Hazel often talked about him as a little boy or wondered what he’s been doing over the last few years. All they ever wanted was for him to be happy. For him to succeed. And I think they were just as heartbroken as I was when we didn’t work out.
For years, everyone thought we’d end up together. We’d been so young, and he’d been my best friend for so long, I couldn’t imagine it being more—until it was. By that point, I wasconvinced we’d get married, have kids, the whole nine yards. Life had other plans though.
The last thing his parents deserved was for their funeral arrangements to not be taken seriously, which is exactly why I’m so surprised by how perfect everything is. Right down to the casket choice—a light, aspen wood Owen would have fawned over, having been a woodworker himself. It reminds me of the bartop at RED. Carrington wouldn’t know, but Owen fought tooth and nail for that exact wood to be the focal point of the bar. He’d always loved it. But I assumed Carrington wouldn’t care enough to actually remember.
They are being laid to rest together, exactly how they would have wanted. I stand there staring at the flowers draped on top of the caskets as they’re lowered into the ground. Everyone else has left already, the funeral having been over for a good while now. It would almost be poetic to end up standing here alone since that’s how I feel with them gone—completely alone. I have Ripley and my mom, but a huge piece of my heart is being buried right before my eyes.
My mom tried to stay until the end of the service, but I saw how much the outing drained her. These days it doesn’t take much. She is always so tired, so run down. It makes my heart hurt just thinking about it. Thankfully, her nurse is a saint and knows her almost as well as I do. Margot caught the haziness in my mom’s eyes before I did, subtly whispering in my ear that she felt like it was time to go. I’d kissed my mom’s cheek and told her I’d be by next week before watching them leave.
Raised voices catch my attention as I finally pull my eyes away from the flowers. My head turns in the direction of the noise to find Brooks and Carrington are still here and having what looks like a heated discussion.
It’s been almost six days since I’ve seen or heard from Brooks. When the deputies came to RED and told us the news,he rushed out, jumped on his motorcycle, and rode off. I’ve been calling him ever since, but he never picked up. Never texted back. Nothing. All I needed to know was that he was safe. Clearly, he wasn’t. He showed up right before the funeral with a black eye and a split lip. No doubt from a bar fight or something of the sort. I wonder if this will leave a mark like the other incidents that left him bloody and bruised.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it looks like Carrington is trying to comfort him. Brooks isn’t having it. I watch as he shoves Carrington’s hand off of his shoulder and tries to storm off. Carrington grabs him by the elbow before he can and leans in to say something low in his ear.
I wipe the tears from under my eyes before giving one more longing look at the caskets before me. “Give ‘em hell up there, you two,” I whisper as I run my hands down the front of my black dress then turn to walk away.
As soon as Carrington and Brooks sense me walking toward them, they both quiet down. Their gazes find mine just as I stop in front of them. The family resemblance is strong: both are tall, around six feet, have dark brown hair, blue eyes, strong, masculine jawlines, and dark brows. Where Cary’s face is approachable and gentle, Brooks constantly has a sharp look about him, as if he’s ready to lash out at any moment. And with the two of them in suits? They look even more alike.
“Whatever this is,” I wave my hand between them, “this isn’t the time or place. Either shut it down, or take it somewhere else.” I don’t wait for a response before I turn on my heel to walk away. I don’t hear either of them following me when I throw over my shoulder, “We have a reception to get to. Please don’t make me explain your absence.”
As if my words released them from their stances, I faintly make out shuffling behind me as I walk to my car.
I’m overwhelmed with memories of Hazel and Owen while I drive on autopilot to RED for the reception. The staff who were up to the task have been there all morning preparing the space for us. Ripley left the funeral as soon as it ended to make sure everything was in order for guests to arrive.
This whole day feels like I’m living someone else’s life. I don’t know if I’m prepared to be around everyone spouting off their favorite memories. Not that it matters, this is happening regardless. All I can do is try to make it through and hope it exhausts me enough so I can finally sleep tonight.
At my request, the entire restaurant is covered in blue hydrangeas and white peonies. You’d think I planned the funeral considering the resemblance, but it was just a happy accident within a tragedy. Another reminder of how in sync Carrington and I can be.
Ripley notices my entrance the second I shut the door behind me, politely excusing himself from the people surrounding him.
“Hey, babe,” he says, pulling me in for a hug I sink into as he brushes his lips against my hair in a sweet kiss. “You doing okay?”
“I’m here.” It’s all I can give him. He knows me well enough to understand. Over the years, we’ve gotten about as close as two people can. We’re able to speak with just shared glances. It’s one of the reasons almost everyone in this town feels the need to tell us how good we are together. They constantly ask us when we’llbe getting married as a not-so-subtle nudge that they want to see us have our happily ever after.
I turn my head in Rip’s arms as the door behind me opens again. Carrington and Brooks walk in looking slightly less tense than when I saw them last. Carrington’s expression is unreadable while Brooks looks like he’s ready for another fight. They’ve always been like this, Carrington hides all of his emotions, and Brooks can’t contain his. They spill out of him like the blood seeping from his split lip.
As they walk past us, Ripley loosens his grip on my back, gently pulling me away from his chest. I follow his line of sight to see he’s watching Carrington walk into the reception. “You ready for this?” His words are soft, and his eyes return to me shining with concern for my well-being.
