Page 4 of The Billionaire & the Virgin Chef
“Shhhh. Don’t saythat!”
“I want to be withher.”
“But then you’ll leave me and Grams alone here,” Iplead.
“We can both be with her where she is. Up inheaven.”
“She wouldn’t want that for us. Remember when she told us she wants us to grow up and have little girls of our own, and to be happy and to keep living? She said she’ll be looking down on us, watching over us both. If you die, she’ll be so so sad. Come on. Pleasestop.”
“No!”
That wild, stubborn expression that she gets during a tantrum begins to fill her face. Any second now, she’ll drop to the floor and make a scene. If Joy takes it that far, there’s no turning back. And the people who own Penny’s Playland will probably kick usout.
“Wait, Joy. Look. Look at this.” I reach a hand down into the front of my shirt and lift out the sterling silver chain with oval-shaped locket that Grams gave me. “See this?” I ask, dangling the locket in front of her. “Look inside. It’s Great Grandpa and Great Grams.” I slide my fingernail between the crease and open the locket to show her the ancient black and white photo of them on their weddingday.
Her face transforms. It goes from harsh and tenacious, to an expression of pure curiosity. With eyes wide as saucers and bright as the sparkling ocean, she nods. “That lady looks likeMomma.”
“Yes. Grams says we all look alike.” I point to the empty side of the locket, the side with space for a picture to be inserted. “See this part? Grams is going to put in a picture of you, me and Momma together. You know that photo of us baking a cheese and chicken casserole, and there’s a bowtie noodle on each of our noses? That one. And when it’s done, she’ll make one just like it foryou.”
“Really?” she squeaks. “It’s so pretty. Soshiny!”
I reach up to the back of my neck and pull the necklace over my head. “Here. You can have this one, and I’ll get the other one when it’sready.”
“Can I really?” She grasps the open locket, staring down at the tiny photo as though nothing elsematters.
“Yes. You keep it. But you have to promise you’ll never say you want to die. Never again. I really meanit.”
“Ipromise.”
“If you leave me too, my heart will break into a million billion pieces. I’ll never stop crying. You can’t just say you promise. You need to meanit.”
“I swear I do. I want to live and grow up with you, Em. I really really do. I’m gonna miss Momma, but I don’t want to make her sad in heaven. And I don’t want you to cry forever andever.”
“All right.” I help her with the necklace. When it’s on her, her smile brightens to the point of beaming. She presses her palm to her chest, covering the locket. “Look, Emily. I’ll have Momma here. She’ll really be close to myheart.”
“She will,” I agree, and lead a calm and composed Joy out of Penny’s Playland and down the main street to the busstop.
I turn to look for the bus and quickly wipe away the wetness on my cheek. I feel weak. Tired. And something about Joy’s suggestion wanders around in my head. I need Grams. So so much. This funeral needs to be over so she can be home with us. Joy has me to lean on, and now, I need someone to tell me why life without our mother is worthliving.
