by Brooke Page
***
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Conklin.” I must have heard this over fifty times in the past hour and a half. I nodded my head to the gentleman making his way through the line, moving to Nathan next.
“I’m going to go get some air,” I mumbled to Becca as I broke protocol and slid through the mass of people showing their respect to the owner of the Conklin empire. We had to do this for another two and a half hours, and I was feeling agitated.
She murmured something, but I didn’t hear her. Being in this room, the smell of the flowers and the eerie feeling of death was overwhelming, and I couldn’t help but think of my grandparents’ funerals. Especially my grandfather’s.
I stood in the hall, leaning against the wall covered in gaudy wallpaper. I closed my eyes and swallowed, fighting that awful feeling in my chest. Why was I feeling like I couldn’t breathe?
“Tyler?” a sphinx-like voice whispered.
“What do you want?” I growled, opening my eyes and meeting the green-eyed monster.
Margo crossed her arms and leaned on her hip while looking off into the distance. “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m assuming this isn’t having a huge effect on you.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed off the wall, heading towards the porch. “Thanks for your concern.”
She followed me, letting out a sigh. “You know, you really shouldn’t hate him so much. That man may have been one of the biggest jerks in the world, but he did care about you. The least you could do is be there for your mother,” she barked.
I stopped dead in my tracks, spinning around to meet her face to face. “Don’t try to fucking rile me. That man cheated on her more times than any of us can remember. There’s a line of them in there, maybe you should go join them and compare slutty stories. You weren’t the only one he bent over his desk,” I said in a harsh whisper.
For once her eyes didn’t turn into slits, but grew big with pain, tears threatening.
I groaned and rolled my head back. “Don’t act like I hurt your feelings. You knew you were just a piece of ass to him. Just like all the others.”
“You know, I would have expected this from you a few months ago. Your mother said you and RJ started to hash things out, building your relationship again.”
“Again? We never had a relationship. I don’t know why she would tell you that because it’s a load of shit. RJ wanted something, and thank God it fell through.”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I thought your heart unthawed with Becca. The poor girl doesn’t know what she’s in for— a selfish, heartless bastard who acts just like his father.”
I stood tall, dumbfounded by her comment. How dare she compare me to that asshole. “Fuck you,” I spat, nudging past her to the deck. I didn’t need to hear this, not today.
I flung the slider open and headed towards the railing, my chest heaving with anger.
Then I felt lost. I looked to the sky, unable to control or understand why breathing was so hard. Why was the sky so blue on a day that was filled with sadness for many people?
“Need a breath of fresh air?” Detective Anderson’s voice murmured through the thick humidity.
I was startled, and I didn’t have time for his bullshit questions.
“It’s crowded in there,” I murmured.
“That it is. Want one?” he asked, taking a puff of a cigarette. “My ex-wife left me because of these, or so she said. She wouldn’t admit it was because of another man.”
I watched him as he pulled out the pack from his chest pocket then extended them to me.
I studied him for a moment, trying to figure out his game. The ex-wife comment felt personal, and I didn’t need for anyone else to try and trick me again.
Giving in, I reached for the pack, took one, then swapped them for his lighter. The cigarette was strong, and it was a good distraction.
“You’re holding up awfully well,” he said, taking another puff. “All of you.”
I leaned on the railing, looking out over the horizon. “We know how to handle stressful situations,” I said calmly. “My mother on the other hand…”
His lip half quirked into a smile. “Women can be a little dramatic.” I looked in his direction. “I guess when your husband dies there can be an exception, right? You’ve found love, I’m sure you can’t imagine losing Becca.”
My heart started to beat faster as I stared at him. Losing Becca would be miserable. I would have nothing to live for.
He gave me a smile. “You really do love her, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t be marrying her if I didn’t,” I said defensively.
He nodded his head in agreement. “On a serious note. I’d like to talk about your father’s death. See, homicide thinks it was a suicide.”
I turned back to him. RJ killing himself had never crossed my mind. Even though I could picture what I saw in his office vividly, I still didn’t put together him holding the gun.
“RJ wouldn’t kill himself.”
“See, most would say that about a strong businessman,” he said as though he were weighing his options. Anderson took two steps towards me. “But suicide can be very normal if someone’s in over their head.”
My expression was blank. RJ wasn’t in over his head. At least not yet. If he had lived to sign that deal with Chino, then he would have been. RJ had too much pride. He loved himself too much.
We stared each other down for a few long moments. He was so close I could see the wrinkles against his eyes. “Like I said, RJ wouldn’t kill himself.” I spoke the words slowly, letting the inner meaning sink into his thick skull. Stop snooping, dick.
He swallowed, studying my features, probably trying to read if I were telling him the truth.
Nodding his head once, he turned back to look out over the deck. “I’ll try to have them look over it again, but unfortunately that’s how his death is going to be declared. You seem to be the least affected by your father’s death. I figured you’d take it the easiest.”
I didn’t say anything, taking a long hit off the cigarette. “You want me to tell my family. I get it.”
The slider to the porch opened, and we both turned our heads in unison.
“Hey, I’m not interrupting, am I?” Becca asked, standing timidly in the door frame.
Anderson gave her a half smile then stubbed his cigarette on the railing, tossing it out. “Not at all. He’s all yours.” Anderson said calmly. He had the nerve to hug Becca in passing.
It was official. I hated him.
“I wondered where you went off to,” she said, eyeing the cigarette in my hand. “I thought you only smoked cigars.”
“I told you I needed some air,” I answered then turned back to the railing. I felt her hand on my forearm then her head against my bicep.
She was quiet, and her presence was semi-soothing, especially when she traced circles on my forearm with her fingertips. My agitation was dulled from the detective. I felt like the air was finally returning to my lungs for the first time since she held my hand in the car.
“That feels nice,” I whispered, risking looking vulnerable.
“Yeah?” she said softly, continuing her pattern.
I turned to nod my head, not expecting her nose to meet mine. “Thank you,” I said so quietly I wasn’t sure if she could hear me.
“You’re welcome,” she said in the same tone, rubbing her nose against mine.
This was true peace but soon brought on that uneasy feeling I had been fighting so hard to keep bottled up inside.
“Tyler, Mom’s wondering where you are,” Mitch said, interrupting our moment. He was dressed nicer than I had ever seen him and part of me was completely pissed off that he’d dazzle himself up for RJ’s funeral and not our grandparents’.
I pulled away from Becca to dispose of the cigarette. “I’ll be there in a second.”
I felt both Mitch’s and Becca’s eyes on my back then heard his sigh followed by the sliding door.
I stood tall, shrugging her arm off my back. I didn’t want to feel soft and tender today, not for RJ. For a moment it was comforting, but I needed to push any what ifs and guilt that I had hidden in my heart. Her delicate way of handling me was helping those feelings surface for all the wrong reasons.
I heard Becca’s footsteps behind me as I finally went back into RJ’s funeral hall. More people had arrived to show their condolences while I was hiding on the porch. My mother waved me over to come stand beside her and Nathan.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked with a scratchy voice and tear stained cheeks. She let go of Nathan’s forearm to reach for mine.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered stiffly, moving my arm to straighten my tie so she had to move her hand.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Lee Chino’s voice rang through the crowd of murmurs. When I turned to look at him, Margo was on his arm, her head to the floor. I had never seen her so low and unconfident.
“Oh, thank you Lee,” my mother sniffed. He leaned into her cheek and gave her a peck of condolence. “Thank you for coming Margo.” Margo gave her a small smile and a hug. I ground my teeth, wondering how she had the nerve to show up to RJ’s funeral and hug his wife when she had actively screwed her husband.
“Tyler, Nathan, Mitch, I’m sorry for your loss as well,” Chino said, moving his greedy eyes towards Nathan and me. I felt Becca squeeze my hand. Did she realize how much this man got to me? I straightened, trying not to look affected.
“Thank you,” I said stiffly, taking my hand from Becca’s to shake Chino’s.
“Thank you for coming,” Nathan added.
Chino nodded and shook Nathan’s hand. “My assistant will call your assistant Nathan to reschedule our previous meeting. When you’re ready of course.” He turned to look at me, his head cocked to the side. “Or do they call your assistant, Tyler? Did RJ leave you in charge?”
I didn’t like the daring gleam that was in his eye, as though he were challenging me to go against RJ’s wishes. My jaw was clenched, and it was difficult to keep my cool around the company I was with.
Nathan sensed my animosity. “Our assistants will contact you in due time,” he said strongly. I glanced at Nathan, a bit of my tension released to see he was irritated with Lee’s comment. Truth was, neither of us had looked at his will or knew who the company was left to.
All I knew was I would do everything in my power to keep that man out of the Conklin business.
“Lee, I think talking business is a little inappropriate at the moment,” Margo piped in, her eyes glaring at Chino. My mother gave a slight smile in agreeance with Margo.
Lee’s eyes grew narrow with annoyance when he turned to look at Margo. “Of course, I apologize, Mary. I truly am sorry.”
My mother gave him a grateful nod then was approached by one of the funeral directors.
“Mrs. Conklin, the service will start in 30 minutes. I suggest you and your family meet the priest in the prayer room.”
Mary nodded, cutting in front of Chino, reaching for both Nathan and my arms.
“We’ll talk soon,” Lee’s voice trailed behind us, sounding more like a threat than a casual goodbye.
***
I hadn’t looked at RJ yet. Somehow I had managed to avoid opening his casket. The psychologist on staff came to the funeral home for our first meeting. I guess Nathan thought we all needed to talk with him. He said seeing RJ in his final state of rest might erase the last image we had of him.
Nothing could erase that.
I felt a chill crawl up my spine, and I shook my head, standing from the table where my family sat in the reception. All eyes were on me.
“I need to use the restroom,” I mumbled while pushing in my chair.
My mother’s hushed whisper was impossible for me to miss. “I’m worried about him.”
After vigorously rinsing my face with water and staring blankly at my pale reflection, I managed to head back out into the hallway. To my surprise, Becca was leaning on a pillar with her cell phone in hand.
“Hey. Jamie called. She wanted me to pass on her condolences and tell you she hooked a huge account in Miami.” She ended with a smile, and I gulped trying to return the smile back.
Her smile faded as she reached to touch my face. I turned my head, afraid to meet her eyes.
What the hell was wrong with me? Get it together Conklin!
“Is it time to leave for the grave site yet?” I asked, staring off towards the reception room.
“About twenty minutes. Your mother wants us all to ride in the Bentley.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’d rather we took the Maserati.”
“I know, but it would make your mother feel better if you all arrived together,” she said gently.
I closed my eyes for a long moment then nodded my head.
Silenced passed by us for a long moment. “Do you want to wait out here or—”
“Yeah, go ahead, I’ll join you in a minute,” I said, reading her mind. I sensed her big blue eyes looking at me, filled with concern, but I refused to look at her. Finally she strolled back to the reception hall as I sat down on a bench.
People began filing out of the reception hall as I blankly stared off into the distance, trying to contain whatever strange emotions were bottled up inside my chest.
Nathan quietly sat next to me on the small bench, leaning back into the wall with his hands on his knees. He didn’t say anything.
“Mom wants us—”
“Becca already told me,” I snapped, knowing what he was going say.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t shut her out, Tyler.”
I rolled my eyes and stood from the bench, trying to get space from Nathan. “Mom will be fine.”
“I’m not talking about Mom,” Nathan said, standing, taking a step towards me. “Don’t push Becca away.”
My head shot up like whiplash. “I’m not,” I said defensively.
“Well, you’re sure acting like it. You need her,” he said sternly. “Stop being such an introverted dick.”
I glared at him. I wasn’t being introverted, and I sure as hell wasn’t pushing Becca away. God forbid I just wanted a little space to try and understand what the hell was going on in my brain. Becca understood too. She was handling me at an arm’s length, which is exactly what I needed.
“Mom is waiting for us to escort her. Let’s go,” Nathan commanded in his older brother tone. I huffed under my breath and followed.
Chapter 11
Becca
Today was one of the most awful days I had experienced. I had never been in a room filled with such sorrow and hurt, but the only person’s pain I had trouble feeling was Tyler’s. He hid it too well, and the funny looks on people’s faces after they shook his hand and offered their condolences was impossible to miss.
“He doesn’t look too effected.” I heard an older gentleman say. “Probably because he didn’t get along with RJ. Everyone knows they butt heads more than Democrats and Republicans,” another gentleman replied.
My poor Ty. If only he would let me into his head.
“Are you hungry?” I asked as we entered his lofty condo at Elysian. We had declined his mother’s invitation to stay with her at their estate tonight. I wasn’t surprised.
“No,” he simply said, taking off his sport coat and walking towards his office.
Tyler hadn’t eaten anything all day, and I was beginning to worry. His lack of appetite was his only tell that the day had affected him.
Watching him walk down the hall, I decided to give him more space. Tomorrow we would lay around, hopefully cuddle in bed, and he could finally mourn.
Wandering into the kitchen, I raided the cupboards, not surprised to find minimal food. The freezer had some frozen veggies, but they just
didn’t sound good. I grabbed my phone from my handbag and decided to call for a pizza. Yes, I hated eating pizza, especially when I had to go wedding dress shopping in a month, but Tyler loved watching me eat it and rarely turned it down.
After ordering the pizza, I stopped at Tyler’s office to tell him I was going to hop in the shower, hoping maybe he would jump up and join me, but his eyes never left his computer screen.
The shower was lonely and big, and I never thought I would crave Tyler’s touch more. Maybe I was being greedy, but today had been hard on me as well. I didn’t know RJ that well, but death wasn’t something I was familiar with. I didn’t know how to respond to people when they asked me questions about our wedding. Was I supposed to be happy? Was it okay if I let a smile slip? Neither Tyler nor his family smiled.
Resisting the urge to throw on a t-shirt, I grabbed a silk nighty instead. I don’t know why I wanted to be sexy for Tyler, but maybe I needed the intimate connection more than he did after this long and awful day. Hearing the buzzer, I threw on my silk thigh length robe to meet the pizza man at the door. Tyler beat me to it.
“I’m surprised you ordered pizza,” he said stiffly, setting the box down on the kitchen island.
“I thought it might sound good,” I answered, reaching into the cabinets for plates.
He wiggled his nose.
“Ty, you haven’t eaten all day,” I pleaded.
“Don’t tell me I need to eat. You get pissed off at me whenever I say anything about food to you,” he snapped.
I flinched at his comment.
He relaxed his shoulders and raised his eyes to meet mine. “I’m sorry. Some pizza does sound good.”
I gave him a soft smile and pulled two pieces out of the box and put them on a plate. He took a seat at the bar, reaching for the plate.
“Want some wine? Water? I think I saw some Gatorade,” I asked, turning to the fridge.
“Gatorade’s fine,” he said quietly while picking up his pizza.
I smiled and grabbed a Gatorade and a water for myself and sat next to Tyler to attempt to enjoy our Hawaiian pizza together.
