Page 28 of A Vintage of Regret
“We’re not here to start a war,” Parker said, trying to smooth things over. “We’re here to honor Sean.”
Chad cleared his throat. “Why don’t we focus on what still needs to be done? We haven’t finalized the music. Or the eulogy.”
“I don’t want to give the eulogy, but I’d like to say something at the service,” Riley said quickly.
“No.” Her mom’s answer came without hesitation. “That won’t be happening. You’ve been silent for twelve years, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”
“Mother.” Grant leaned back and folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. “That’s not true. Besides, Erin and I discussed this last night. We thought it would be nice if the three of us said something together. We’re his children. That’s how it should be. A formal eulogy can be given by…” he let out an exasperated sigh, “… Walter. They were very close, and while we all know I’m not a fan of the Boones, it’s what Dad wanted.”
Well, hell just froze over.
“So, no one has any consideration for my feelings in this.” Her mother had the audacity to wipe her tearless cheeks. She’d mastered the art of the fake cry years ago. It had always grated on Riley’s last nerve.
“We’re trying to think about everyone,” Grant said, softly.
“She has no idea what she’s put this family through. I bet she doesn’t even know your kids' names,” her mother said.
Erin gasped, clutching her pendant. “Of course, she does. She speaks to them on Fa?—"
“Grant’s are Jessica and Randy, and Erin’s are Nathan and Willa. I even know about when?—”
“Just because you spent a few hours having the Boones fill you in on our lives doesn’t mean you know us anymore. Do you know how heartbreaking that is for a mother?”
The words hit Riley like a knife. Each one designed to cut deep. She’d tried so hard to stay connected, to remember birthdays and milestones from thousands of miles away. But her mother was right—knowing facts wasn’t the same as being present. All those FaceTime calls and carefully remembered details couldn’t make up for missing first steps, school plays, scraped knees that needed bandaging. The guilt she’d been carrying for twelve years crashed over her with fresh intensity.
“That’s enough, Mom,” Grant said. “We’re all upset, and this isn’t helping.”
“Let’s all take a moment to settle down.” Parker pulled out the chair next to his wife and took her hand. “We need to really consider what Sean would want here and set aside our personal feelings for the next few days. We can deal with those later.”
Riley took in a shaky breath, grateful for Parker’s intervention. “You’re right. Dad wouldn’t want us fighting.” She looked around the table at her siblings, seeing exhaustion in their faces that probably matched her own. “We’re all grieving.We’re all hurting. Maybe we can just… try to get through this together?”
“Agreed.” Grant held her gaze and smiled. It wasn’t a big one, but it was enough. “For Dad.”
“Well, you can agree to that all you want, but we’re still in a holding pattern.” Elizabeth set her wine glass down. “Has anyone heard if the ME has released your father’s body yet? Kind of hard to have a funeral without one.”
Riley bit down on the inside of her cheek. Sometimes her mother just didn’t know when to zip it.
“No. Still waiting,” Grant said.
“This is ridiculous. I don’t understand.” Her mother took a nice, long, sip of her wine… more like half the glass.
“Doctor Gavin is still deciding if he’s going to do an autopsy or not,” Grant said.
If there was ever a time to bring this up, it was now. If she didn’t, she’d never forgive herself. “I want to ask Doctor Gavin to just do the autopsy.”
Grant’s expression hardened.
Elizabeth’s wine glass hit the table with a sharp clink. “How dare you. I bet you’re the reason they’re holding your father’s body.”
“Mom, she’s not the reason.” Grant ran a shaky hand over his face. “We all heard what the emergency doctor said, and we all spoke our piece on the matter. It’s the ME’s decision, unless one of us changes our mind.”
Her mother slammed her fist on the table, abruptly standing. “I will not let you do that to your father,” her voice rose, vibrating and bouncing off the walls. “He avoided surgery on his knee because he didn’t want doctors opening him up. You have some nerve coming in here after everything—after being gone all this time—you think you know what he would’ve wanted? I might not have been married to him when he died, but I do haveenough respect for the father ofmychildren not to desecrate his body.”
“I think Dad would’ve wanted the truth. He was always telling us kids how important the truth was,” Erin said quietly, with her head down, fiddling with her nails like a terrified toddler.
“You’re going to take her side in this?” Her mother’s voice cracked with fury.
“It’s not about sides, Ma.” Erin lifted her gaze. “It’s about knowing what happened. About finding out why Daddy died before he even turned seventy. We all know heart disease runs in the family, but what if it’s something else? Something that could affectyourgrandchildren?”
