Page 47 of Drum Me Away
I rolled my shoulder, forcing Lucas to back away. “I’ve got this,” I said without looking at him. I could feel him stiffen next to me. Did I need to add offending my bandmate to my list of things I had to deal with today? Whatever happened to straight up, good old-fashioned mourning without all the bonus crap?
Pushing that worry aside just like I pushed him aside, I asked Maria, “Did you guys bring Riley?”
“Nope. Left her with the nanny.”
“Good. That’s our excuse, then. We’ll tell Vic the nanny called and you need to go home.”
Maria nodded. “He won’t even ask why. He’ll just leave.”
“Then it’s a plan.”
Several clusters of people stood around the entrance, everyone dressed either in their funeral best or as if they’d come straight from the office. I didn’t recognize any of them, but I could tell many of them recognized Maria. With my arm around her waist, I rushed her past them before anyone could try to interact with her.
I was confident none of them had witnessed her as anything but entirely sober before, and while, getting drunk in an attempt to deal with—or avoid—the grief was a normal and entirely reasonable occurrence in the rest of the world, this was Elaine Hearsy’s world, and things like losing control were simply not tolerated.
The inside of the funeral home was just like the handful of other funeral homes I’d ever been in. Warm and quiet, with muted music playing from hidden speakers, an air of sadness draped like a shawl over everything.
Fancy curtains framed floor-to-ceiling windows; thick carpet swallowed any sounds our shoes would normally make. Boxes of tissues rested on every horizontal surface.
A woman with a straight, gray bob, wearing an understated burgundy suit greeted us, wizened eyes skimming over the group, probably trying to determine how we were connected to the deceased.
“Ah, Maria,” she said when her gaze reached my sister. “You’re—”
“Here to say goodbye to Grandma,” Maria said, cutting her off.
“Oh dear,” the woman said, taking a step back and pressing a hand to her throat.
“This is Faith,” my sister supplied. “She was Grandma’s favorite.”
“I don’t think she cares about that, Maria,” I said.
The woman’s gaze sharpened as it once again swept over the crew. Did she realize who we were? I’d never once spoken of my family, not in any interview, not in any social media post, not even to my bandmates, who were arguably my best friends in the world.
I’d adopted Grandma’s maiden name as my stage name because I’d known it wouldn’t pop in any Google searches. She’d gotten married and taken my grandfather’s last name well before the internet was a thing, and unlike my mother, she didn’t care about being featured in the local society magazine. She wasn’t someone who would be of interest to anyone in my circles or my mother’s circles, and she had been perfectly content with that reality.
I’d lost count of the number of times I wondered how my mother’s apple had fallen so far from the tree. If she’d been more like her own mother, she and I would likely not only be on speaking terms, we’d actually have a relationship.
“There you are.”
I fought the cringe, expecting my mother, but no, the owner of that voice was not her.
A close second, though.
“Hello, Ava. Nice to see you again.”
“Is it?”
CHAPTER17
Lucas
The womanwho stepped up to Faith and Maria was taller than both of them and wore a frown that looked as if it were permanently etched onto her face. If not for the frown, she’d probably be pretty. Gorgeous, even.
She did, after all, strongly resemble Faith, and even if I weren’t obsessed with my bandmate, I couldn’t deny she was beautiful.
The other woman’s smooth, dark hair was tucked into some sort of twisted bun thing at the nape of her neck. A chignon, I think the style was called.
Her makeup was understated, her skin dewy and clear, although I could see bruising under her eyes despite the expert cover-up job. A result of working too much and flying across four time zones to get here, no doubt.
