Her marble memorial plate looked newer than the others. It simply had her name, birth and death year carved on it. It was nothing fancy. The unit below hers was empty.
The deputy sheriff observed as the cemetery technician used a special tool to break the seal around the door to my mother’s berth. I told Trey I needed to go back outside. The crowded mausoleum was getting to me; I was extremely claustrophobic and I needed fresh air.
“Are you okay?” he asked me, as I sat down on a concrete bench outside of it.
“It's musty in there and crowded. I felt faint for a moment. I’m fine now.”
He sat down beside me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close.
“Trey, why are we here?” I asked, looking up at him.
I saw him furrow his brow in confusion. “It's customary for family members be present when a grave is disturbed,” he said.
“This is clearly something my father could've handled alone.”
Trey took my hand and studied me for a moment. “Don’t you want to see her?” he asked me gently. I looked at him aghast. It hadn't occurred to me that her casket would be opened until she got to the county coroner’s office for the forensic autopsy. I figured at that point the metal box would be removed and given to me or to my father.
“Are you serious? They're not going to open her casket here, are they? I don’t want to see my mother’s decomposed remains.” I was horrified that Trey had asked such a question.
“Tylar, I don’t think it's going to be as bad as all that. Yes, they'll open the casket here to make sure it contains a body, first of all; and to establish the identity as being her.”
I turned from him, thoroughly appalled at the idea of looking at my mother’s corpse.
“Tylar, no one's going to force you to look at her, but I just thought if you wanted to, it might help you put some closure on things.”
By this time, the deputy and cemetery people had exited the mausoleum. The deputy was carrying a dark metal box that had a handle on it.
“They have to book that in as evidence, sweetie.”
My father was still inside with her. I didn’t budge. Trey remained next to me, not saying anything further. It was several minutes later that my father emerged. He came over to where Trey and I were standing. His eyes were red. He'd been crying. It distressed me to see him like that.
“Tylar,” he said to me softly, “would you like to say good-bye to your mother? She looks beautiful.”
I stood up. My legs were wobbly. Everything had a surreal feeling to it. Trey was beside me, taking my arm. My father stayed outside as we made our way back inside the mausoleum. I saw the opened lid of the casket. It was the type that had two lids. Only the top one had been opened. Her casket was on a dolly of some sort so it could be wheeled outside to the waiting hearse. Trey held my hand as we walked to the side of it.
The first thing I saw was her hair. It was just like mine. It was cut in long layers that framed her face. As I looked at her, I was amazed at how much I resembled her. It looked like me laying there asleep. She'd been buried in a red sweater dress. Her hands were clasped together resting on her stomach. I looked at the satin pillow where her head rested. I saw the caul that Trinity had spoken of. It looked like a thin nylon veil that'd been draped on the pillow next to her. Someone had placed a ragged teddy bear in the casket next to her. It might've been mine.
I felt the tears stream down my face. I had no memory of her at all. She'd carried me, given birth to me, fed and nurtured me, yet I had no memory of any of that. I'd been cheated out of a mother; she'd been cheated out of a life. Trey squeezed my hand gently. My sobs escaped as I looked at this beautiful creature who I'd never known.
“Mommy,” I sobbed, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. "We'll make this right. I promise you that.” I leaned over and brushed a kiss against her hair. Trey enfolded me in his arms and led me outside once again.
My father was waiting in the limo for us. The deputy sheriff and the cemetery personnel wheeled the now closed casket out to the waiting hearse. She'd be taken to Jackson for the forensic autopsy.
Her body would then be placed back into her final resting place here. My father said that he would be back to ensure everything went as planned.
“When will we know about the contents of the metal box?” I asked.
“Once it's all been reviewed by the D.A’s office, anything that's not pertinent to her death will be released. Anything deemed pertinent as evidence will remain in custody with the authorities until such time as the case is resolved in criminal court.”
“How long could all of that take?”
“Tylar, don’t worry; I'll use any means possible to avoid dragging this out. I've scheduled a meeting with the D.A. for the day after tomorrow.”
I leaned against Trey in the car. “I want to go home, Trey.”
“We'll go home, baby; how about tomorrow?”
Trey booked our flight when we got back to my father’s estate. We had a late afternoon flight out of Baton Rouge. My father spent the evening playing with Preston, while Trey and I relaxed in front of the massive fireplace.
The following morning, Dad took me on a tour of the grounds. He had several thoroughbred horses stabled in his barn. “Do you ride?” he asked me.
“A little,” I replied, smiling.
He had one of the hired hands saddle up two horses as Trey had stayed behind with Preston. My father and I rode the trail that went the full perimeter of the estate. It was breathtakingly beautiful. I could tell my father had a passion for horses. He was an excellent English rider as well. Perhaps something else I'd inherited from him, I thought.
When it was time to depart for the airport, I hugged my father tightly. I'd grown close to him these past several days. I knew that we'd continue to bond as parent and child. He promised he'd let me know the status of the investigation as it unfolded.
He shook Trey’s hand before we left and mentioned that he'd recused himself from the decision relating to the oral argument Trey had given a few weeks prior in Baton Rouge. He explained it would have been a conflict of interest for him to opine on the matter.
“Shit,” Trey said later on the way to the airport, “here I thought it would be a slam-dunk with your father on that panel. Now, I have to sweat it out while waiting for the others to decide.”
I was glad to be going home. It had been nice spending time with my father and getting to know him, but I missed my routine at home. The holidays were fast approaching and I needed to prepare for our baby’s first Christmas. After that, I needed to prepare for our move into our new home. I leaned my head against Trey on the airplane. Preston was asleep, cuddled in his lap. “I love you, Trey.”
“I love you too, baby.”
“Trey?”
“Yes, Tylar?”
“Truthfully, what did you feel, if anything, yesterday when you saw my mother in that casket?”
He looked down into my eyes as I was nestled against him. He looked a bit distraught. “I was overwhelmed with a feeling of despair,” he replied thoughtfully.
“Why despair?” I asked.
“Because part of me was totally in despair at the thought of how tragic her situation was; it saddened me to think of someone close to you having had to suffer through that. The other part of me despaired at the knowledge that it was exactly that same tragedy that allowed your life to intertwine with mine. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. It really tore me up.”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I guess I believe in destiny. I mean, I think that you and I were destined to be together. I don’t want to think that the tragedy with my mother was the only way we would've found each other.”
“I like the way you think, Mrs. Sinclair.”
Chapter 47
As the Christmas holidays approached, Trey and I decided to stay in Atlanta. We hadn’t heard anything definitive since we'd left Baton Rouge the week before. My dad had stayed in touch, but he'd know more the
following week when the Grand Jury convened. The toxicology report on my mother’s autopsy was due the first part of January. Dad had invited us to Baton Rouge for Christmas, but I told him we felt like we needed to stay in Atlanta for Preston’s first Christmas and he'd understood.
Gina and Tristan had been working night and day preparing the club for its official grand opening on Christmas Eve as "Tristan’s Shady Lady Saloon and Restaurant." The contractor had made most of the minor changes; the health inspectors had approved the kitchen for food preparation; an area had been walled in as the restaurant and the wine cellar was completed.
Tristan had discussed with Trey taking over his lease on the apartment when we moved. The tenant's association approved the lease transfer, so both Tristan and Gina would be staying on after we moved.
Trey and I decorated the apartment for Christmas. We bought a live tree and spent the whole Saturday before Christmas decorating it. Preston wouldn’t leave it alone; we had to watch her constantly as she crawled over to it and tried to snatch an ornament here or there. Gina had given her one of her gifts early. It was her “Ho-Ho-Ho” plush Santa Claus.
“Jesus Christ,” Trey complained, after he'd heard the “Ho-Ho-Ho” several hundred times as Preston played with it. “I just got rid of that damn ghost. Leave it to Gina to provide another irritating toy for the holidays!”
“Ah-ha! I knew you did something with that ghost! Where is it?”
Trey grinned sheepishly, then finally admitted he'd put it in one of the Goodwill boxes that I'd filled when cleaning out the closets.
“Shame on you,” I admonished him gently. “She loved that ghost.”
“She never knew it was gone," he replied, laughing.
“Well, I warn you, Trey Michael, you won’t be pulling that shit with Santa Claus.”
We had sent our Christmas presents on to Bristol, planning on going there right after Christmas to ring in the New Year with Trey's family. Even Tristan and Gina were planning on going. Tristan had hired an assistant manager for the club in an effort to free up some of Gina’s time. It was evident that they were totally in love.
Gina and I had spent some BFF time together after my return from Baton Rouge. I'd told her everything. “I can’t imagine how that must have felt for you,” she'd consoled.
“It was almost like looking at me, Gina. It was bizarre. It was like me, but at the same time, it was someone I didn’t remember.”
“I just have to tell you that I really think your dad is awesome.”
I'd shared with her my feelings of anger and resentment for not finding my mother and declaring his everlasting love for her before his marriage. Gina told me I was too much of a romantic and not enough of a realist.
“Speaking of which,” I stated, taking the opportunity of segueing into the subject, “it appears to me that you and Tristan both have been bitten by the love bug.”
“Girlfriend, we're taking it just one day at a time. We still fight like crazy, but hey, the making up is fucking fantastic.”
“So, any talk of you two getting engaged or anything?”
“Seriously, Tylar? I'm just freshly divorced; Tristan is just fresh off of a broken engagement. We're simply enjoying each other. It’s not that serious, I keep telling you.”
“Whatever,” I commented, shaking my head.
Jean was coming over Christmas Eve to stay with Preston while Trey and I attended the grand opening of Tristan and Gina’s club.
I'd just enjoyed a luxurious bubble bath while Preston napped. Trey was finishing up some work in his study where the baby slept.
“Whatcha doing, Trey?”
“Hey, sweetie,” he said, turning to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m almost done for the night. How about meeting me in our bed in about thirty?”
“What can I say, Mr. Sinclair? You're so fucking romantic,” I teased. I went back to our room and climbed into bed, enjoying the feel of the freshly changed sheets. I switched the flat screen on and before I knew it, I'd dozed off. I was awakened some time later when Trey crawled into bed next to me, drawing me into his warm embrace.
We'd just started getting down to it when our play was interrupted by loud voices coming from the guest room. Tristan and Gina had come home. They were arguing about something. Trey stopped what he was doing to me, which had been feeling really great, as their voices got louder. We both sat up, straining to hear what was taking place. I was hoping they didn’t wake the baby in the room next to theirs.
“I’m sorry, Tristan,” Gina shouted, “It just seemed to me as if you spent an inordinate amount of time training Amy. It’s obvious to me she's totally crushing on you and you enjoy it!"
“What the fuck are you talking about, Gina? I didn’t spend any more time training her in the restaurant than the male waiters. What the hell's really going on? Are you premenstrual or something?”
“Oh, yeah, a typical guy thing to say when a female calls them out on something. Don’t cloud the issue, Tristan!”
“Gina,” Tristan pleaded, “I swear to you on all that's precious to me, that I don’t feel a damn thing for Amy. I’m all about you, babe. Can’t you see that?”
“Oh, Tristan,” Gina whined, “Why in the world do you put up with my shit?”
“You know why, baby. I love you.”
“I love you too, Tristan,” she wailed.
“Jesus Christ,” Trey grumbled, “I fucking knew she'd somehow wheedle her way into the family!”
“I think it's very romantic.”
“You would,” he griped.
I crawled onto his lap and started kissing him very passionately. We were just to the point where things were progressing nicely when we heard the banging of the headboard against the wall in the guest room.
“Holy shit,” Trey snarled. “I guess we’re going to need to move that bed to the fucking center of the room the way that those two go at it!”
“Trey,” I pleaded, “Put those two out of your mind. It’s just you and me right now. I want you to make love to me.”
“You’re right, baby,” he said softly, pressing me down against the mattress and kissing me passionately. His hands roamed over me in all of the right places. My body responded to his touch, like always. His lips traveled downward to my sex. His expert ministrations with his tongue brought me to my foreplay orgasm.
“My turn, baby,” he moaned, laying back.
Just as I took his erection into my grasp, we both heard Preston crying from her room. “Jesus Christ; want to guess what woke her up?” Trey snapped, leaping from our bed and pulling his PJ bottoms up. He opened our door and went down the hallway, coming back with Preston in his arms. He handed her to me and I turned my nightstand light on.
She'd soiled her diaper, so I asked Trey to bring me a fresh one and some baby wipes. I got her cleaned up and changed, pulling her pajama bottoms back up. She smiled at me, showing me her eye teeth.
“Hey, pretty girl,” I cooed to her, “two more days until Santa visits here bringing Preston all kinds of presents because she's been a good girl this year.”
She put her fist up to her mouth, giggling. “What does Preston want Santa to bring to her?” She rolled onto her stomach and crawled closer to me repeating “num-num” over and over again. She'd gotten a look at my still bare breasts.
“I think Mommy can accommodate that,” I replied laughing. I settled back on my side with my head propped up on my arm. She crawled over, snuggled up beside me, and gently began nursing. Trey came out of the bathroom just then, spotting her cuddled up against me.
“Well, it looks like everyone is getting theirs tonight but me,” he complained, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Don’t pout, honey,” I chided him. “Santa doesn’t like that.”
"Ho, ho, ho," he replied, getting into bed with us.
Chapter 48
Preston was up at dawn on Christmas morning. Of course, she had some help because Gina and Tristan were making enough noise to wake the
dead in their bedroom.
“Jesus Christ,” Trey moaned, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t they ever give it a rest?”
I got up to check on Preston and found her sitting up in her crib playing with her Santa Claus. She smiled and scrambled to her feet upon seeing me come into the room. “Merry Christmas, baby girl,” I crooned to her, lifting her to me. I grabbed a clean diaper and her baby wipes and took her back to our room. Trey was still in bed, sitting up. He reached to take her from me.
“Da-da-da-da,” she squealed, smiling at him.
“I think she has a Christmas package for you, Trey,” I said laughing, as I headed to the bathroom.
“That’s all right,” I heard him croon to her from the bedroom. “Daddy will change his baby girl.”
I was sitting on the toilet; I waited, counting down to the inevitable gag that always occurred after he unfastened her soiled diaper to take it off. There it was.
“Christ, Tylar, stop pureeing the green beans, please!”
It was always my fault her baby poop made him gag…LOL!
I finished up in the bathroom just as Trey was fastening her clean diaper on her. I put my robe on as I headed back out into the bedroom. He was taking the offensive diaper to the lined and covered trash can we kept in his office now that she slept there.
“At what age do you normally start potty-training?” he asked, as he headed out to the hallway.
“It differs. It helps if they’re walking, though.”
“Smart ass,” he mumbled, as he headed down the hallway.
I scooped her up into my arms. “Do you want to see what Santa brought Preston last night when she was sleeping?” She started talking her usual baby gibberish. She seemed to know something was up.
“Yes, let’s go see what Santa brought for Preston.”
Gina and Tristan were coming out of their room just as I passed by.
“Merry Christmas!” Gina said, taking Preston from me.
Shadows and Dreams (Dream Series Book 2) Page 33
