Page 23 of Burn Falls
A text came through quickly.
I’m so sorry, Calla. If you need me just say the word and I’ll fly out. Give my love and condolences to your family.
I will. Thank you.
As I walked through the front door of my childhood home, the jolliness of the Christmas decorations caused sadness to hit me like a freight train once again. I saw all of our gifts still under the tree, and it struck me, as I stared at the colorful lights, that I would never see my father again, never get to spend another holiday with him. He’d never pick me up at the airport and welcome me with open arms. He’d never sit at the dining room table and cheat at board games, causing me and my siblings to playfully argue with him. He’d never kiss my mom on the cheek and slap her butt in affection again, saying he loved her as much now as he did the day they married.
And he’d never tellmethat he loved me again.
After I took a deep breath and wiped my tears, I shrugged off my coat and headed to the kitchen to pour myself a giant glass of OBB. If it wasn’t for my mother and her scolding me about everything, I’d drink straight from the bottle at this point. Everything was surreal, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to do or how to be. I wanted to fling myself on my bed and cry until I had no more tears left in me, but I had my mom and my brother and sister to think about. I was the oldest, and I felt as though it was my duty to take care of everyone now.
I carried my glass, the bottle, and three extra glasses, and then joined everyone in the living room. As I set the items on the coffee table, I noticed my mother rummaging in her purse by the front door. She pulled out her cell phone, then walked over to the desk and picked up her address book.
“Mom, have a glass of OBB. You’ll need to call everyone in Ireland tomorrow because it’s too late there now.” We were eight hours behind my grandma and my parent’s friends in Dublin, so it was the middle of the night there.
“Right.” She sighed and closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her cheek.
“We’ll call everyone in the morning for you, Mom. Let us do it.” Alastair walked over and placed his arm around her shoulders, hugging her against his lean frame. “Just tell us who to call besides Grandma, and we’ll take care of it in the morning.”
She nodded and handed him the address book. “Okay, thank you. Call … everyone.”
Betha poured both herself and Mom a few fingers each of the whiskey, while Alastair went to the kitchen to grab a beer. Sometimes he and my father would sit on the deck in the backyard and drink beers while shooting the shit. We all had our way of coping. Once he was back, we sat in silence until Mother spoke again.
“Calla, can you call Ted and let him know?” I realized my mother was so much softer in how she spoke to me since Draven told me he would speak with her. Whatever he’d said to her at the hospital had apparently helped with her hatred toward me. I hadn’t seen him since he left the hospital room, giving us time to grieve alone, and that thought made me realize I needed to call or text him to thank him for everything—even if he couldn’t save my father.
I nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll handle OBB.”
Everyone at O’Bannion Burn was like family to us. Each one had worked for my father for many years, some since he’d opened OBB, and I wanted to make sure that they all knew they were safe and so were their jobs. I would also need to talk to Ted to see if he could get security cameras installed and run things until we found a replacement for my father. No one would ever replace him, but we needed someone to run the warehouse even if we had to promote from within.
I decided that even though it was late, Ted needed to know my father had passed. Carrying my whiskey, I went into the kitchen to make the call. After taking a big gulp of the sweet and spicy liquid, I took a deep breath before dialing his number.
“Hi, Uncle Ted. It’s Calla.”
“Hey, Calla. How’s your father doing?”
I closed my eyes as fresh tears slid down my cheeks. “He ... he passed this evening.”
“Oh, Calla. I’m so sorry for your loss.” After a few beats, his voice broke, “I’m going to miss your dad. He was an amazing man.”
“Yes, he was.” I paused before continuing, “The other reason for my call is that I was wondering if you could have cameras installed and let the staff know that they’re safe and we’ll be in touch soon about the funeral arrangements.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Thank you, and please assure them that their jobs are safe too.” I didn’t know how at this point, but it was better not to worry anyone.
“I will, and don’t worry about the business right now. I’ll take care of things there and keep the doors locked for now. I’ll see about hiring a guard for the door or something. Go be with your family, and please pass on my condolences to your mom.”
“I will. Thank you for everything.”
“I’ll come by tomorrow, and please, if there’s anything I can do, call me.”
I thanked him again, ended the call, and then returned to the living room. Everyone was still in their own heads, silently remembering my father or what had transpired. I started to think about what would happen to the business. Dad had always joked he was going to leave me in charge because Mom wouldn’t have a clue what to do. At least I thought he was joking. It wasn’t the kind of thing we talked about when the family got together. Now he’d passed before we were ready, and I was definitely uncertain of what the future would hold regardless of telling Ted not to worry.
“Oh! What did Ted say?” Mom asked as though she’d just remembered I’d called him and I was back in the room.
“He’s going to let the staff know, and he’ll come by tomorrow. He also told me to pass on his condolences to you.”
“Okay. Thank you for doing that, Calla.” She sat back on the couch.
