“My life?” I breathed.
He gave a small nod. “Yeah, your life. You’ve been looking at that phone a lot. Got a girl waiting for you somewhere?”
This was weird. Talking to Sal about personal things just felt…strange. It wasn’t any kind of dynamic I was used to, chatting it up with my parents. Neither one of them had been useful for advice or guidance over the years, at any point in our lives.
“Yeah,” I replied cautiously. “I think so.”
He chuckled. “You think so? Boy, she’s either yours or she’s not.”
Remarkably, I actually smirked at that. Sal had made me almost smile, for the first time ever. Total mind fuck. “We had a fight, but I’m still in. Just don’t know yet if she still is.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “She hot?”
I was surprised that his choice of words didn’t irk me. For once, I actually felt like he wasn’t intending to be crude. I nodded. “Most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. Smart as hell too. Knows cars, loves rock music, covered in tats. The whole package really.”
Both of his eyebrows shot up, his face showing approval. “Tattoos, huh? Sounds like your type.”
My entire relationship with Sage flashed before me in the blink of an eye, making my top lip curl up in appreciation. “You have no idea.”
He watched me in amusement. “Well, you can’t let a woman who likes rock music slip through your fingers,” he said. “They’re rarer than you’d think.”
I lowered my gaze to the floor, the wisdom in those words hitting me hard, especially when you considered the source. “I’m going to do my best.”
He nodded in satisfaction before his eyes began to droop as fatigue set in. “Getting tired,” he whispered. Sleep was already taking him before I could respond. I watched him fall into his slumber as his breathing evened out.
But before he went completely under, his lips moved as he whispered something that sounded like, “Thanks for staying…son.”
##
Sal died two days later.
It was peaceful, if such a word could actually be applied to any aspect of his life. But his passing was quiet, with the four of us standing around his bed, our mother, his longtime wife, clutching his hand. Although she shed many tears, the three of us held them back. I wasn’t even sure if we were physically able to cry.
I had to admit I almost did, though. I almost had a moment as he was taking his final breaths where I just fell to my knees and collapsed into tears. And it wasn’t because the realization hit that my father was finally dying.
It was because of what he said.
The last words that Salvatore Cruz would ever utter on this earth.
“Don’t be like me.”
There was no mistaking what he said. I didn’t look at my brothers, but I could hear all of us take in a measured breath at the same time when those words reached our ears. We knew they were intended for us, and we knew precisely what they meant. Our father’s only wish was that we not end our lives deteriorating in a hospital bed like him, with a thousand regrets in his wake.
It was those words that tortured me for the next couple days as we prepared for his funeral. Those words that ate at me, taunting me and also warning me at the same time. It was probably the best piece of advice Sal had ever offered and it was with his dying breath. That’s irony.
I operated mostly on fumes after his death, helping my mother and brothers make decisions that felt meaningless in the aftermath of Sal’s revelations to me. I didn’t care what kind of casket he had or where his plot would be. Honestly, I hated that I wanted a rewind on life after my conversation with him. I wanted a chance to have a real father, a small glimmer of which I witnessed in Sal in that hospital room. Though I knew life didn’t work that way.
I almost wished he had never told me everything. Maybe if he had died with me assuming that he was nothing but a cold, hard bastard, putting him in the ground and saying goodbye to the only father figure I would ever know wouldn’t have been so painful.
Because Sal had no other living family or close friends, we opted for a small cemetery service with only our family in attendance. Even though Sal was not a church-going nor religious man, we all thought he needed prayers for his soul, so we had a preacher come and preside over the service.
Mickie came but left the kids with a babysitter since they had never met their grandfather, anyway, which was a sad notion in and of itself. Kinley came to support Parker and never left his side. And because they were wonderful people and some of the best friends you could ask for, Sam and Diane Masterson came, followed by their son and Parker’s best friend Clay with his girlfriend Gwen McKindry on his arm.
I tried not to pay attention to the fact that I was the only one alone, but it was a hard thing to ignore. It made the experience all the more depressing as I looked around at the people around me who were in love, taking stock of the happiness in my presence despite the situation. They all had someone to go home to after Sal was buried. They all had someone to comfort them and fall asleep with as they released their emotions.
Everyone except for me. And my mother.
Oh, God.
Sal’s words once again reverberated in my head. Don’t be like me. Well, hell. I was clearly not going to wind up like him. That much was obvious and something I had been fighting my entire life to avoid. But I also didn’t want to end up like my mother, alone with no one to love her, regardless of the fact that she’d been married for the past thirty years. Whether Sal had truly loved her or not, he never showed it. Sandra Cruz had lived a bleak existence for too long and nothing about that was appealing.
As we all approached the burial site together, I knew I needed to talk to Sage. I wasn’t sure where we stood at that point—I hadn’t even told her that Sal had died—but I knew that as soon as the service was over, I was going to call her.
So, I couldn’t believe my eyes—thought I was fucking hallucinating—when I all of sudden looked up and saw a purple head of hair right next to the grave. I immediately got tunnel vision as I focused in on her form, standing there waiting for us in a black dress, her gaze zeroed in on me.
Sage.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sage
I was terrified that he wouldn’t want me there. That he would tell me to go away in front of his entire family.
So, I couldn’t have been happier whenever he registered my presence and his entire face relaxed, looking…relieved. Like me being there was easing something inside him, taking a ton of weight off his shoulders. I fought to contain my smile. It really wasn’t an appropriate setting to look giddy. I just stared back at him, telling him without words that I was there for him, no matter what.
The family stopped at the grave and lined up on the side where I was standing. Parker and Dawson both nodded at me, while everyone else—who I assumed were the Mastersons, though I had never officially met them—offered curious smiles but said nothing. I briefly glimpsed their expressions of understanding when Mason came to stand next to me.
My heart was pounding as I looked up into his face, one I hadn’t seen since I’d yelled at him that morning in his car at my house. His features were softened, his expression full of gratitude, as his eyes remained connected with mine. In that moment, nothing that happened before mattered. We could hash everything out later. Right then, Mason just needed my support and my love. So, I remained silent and laced my fingers through his, squeezing tight in hopes of never letting go again.
His gaze eventually turned to the casket as the preacher began speaking. I caught Mickie’s eyes down the line of family members and silently mouthed thank you. She grinned and tipped her head at me, mouthing back welcome.
She was the reason I was there, after all.
Another day, another empty bottle of aspirin in the trash.
I had been working tirelessly to get Katie in with the family that Sabrina was with, and I finally had some good news. Sabrina’s family was only licensed to take in three foster
children at one time and they currently had three in their home. I’d just received word, however, that one of the children was going to be reunited with his biological family, so they would have an opening.
All I had to do now was contact the family, explain the situation, and pray that they were okay with the new arrangements. I had dealt with this family many times in the past, though, and knew them to be wonderful people, so I had no doubt that they would be thrilled to have Sabrina’s sister.
I wouldn’t tell Katie anything until it was official, but I was hopeful. Hell, I was practically joyous. It was one of those good days that made me want to become a social worker in the first place.
I was distracted by some paperwork in front of me whenever my cell phone rang. Looking down at the screen, I was confused as Mickie’s name popped up. We hadn’t spoken since the kids’ birthday party, and Mason had been avoiding me since our fight. Even though I desperately wanted to resolve our situation, I didn’t blame him for distancing himself. That’s what I’d asked of him after all. I decided I would just give him time, but his sister-in-law calling me out of nowhere was odd. Had he spoken to her about us?
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sage,” Mickie said, her voice sounding weary. “It’s Mickie.”
“Hi,” I replied, growing curious. “How are you?”
“I’m okay, I guess.” She paused for a second, sounding unsure of herself. “I actually don’t know if I should be calling. Dawson said that something went down with you and Mason, but I don’t know the situation.”
When she didn’t elaborate, I grew concerned. “It’s fine. Is everything alright? Is Mason okay?”
She sighed. It was a sad sigh if I wasn’t mistaken. “He’s alright, physically anyway.” That didn’t exactly make me feel better. “It’s about their father, Sal. He passed away yesterday.”
If I had been standing up, my knees probably would have given away beneath me. “Oh my God. I—” I didn’t really know what to say. “Were they all there?”
“Yeah, the three of them and their mom were there,” she replied, sniffling a little at the end. “Apparently, he went in his sleep.”
I didn’t even realize I had started crying until a tear slid between my parted lips. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not knowing if it was the right thing to say or not. “I mean, I know he wasn’t a great man, but he was your father-in-law so…I’m sorry.”
“I only met him a few times,” she replied. “Dawson didn’t want me around him. He never met his grandchildren.”
I detected guilt in her voice and my heart broke for her. “But that was Dawson’s decision, Mickie. He was doing what he thought was best, and you were respecting his choice as his wife. You shouldn’t feel guilty for that.”
She sniffed again. “I know. It’s just… Dawson seems to be taking it hard, or at least in his own way. He’s never been the type to open up, but he’s been even more closed off since this happened. I honestly don’t know how he and Sal left things. If anything was mended between them, or if he died with them still hating each other. I think it’s tearing Dawson up, but he won’t talk to me.”
I felt awful that she was clearly going through something. But I also got a warm feeling in my chest at the realization that she called me to talk about this. Pierce was amazing and everything, but a part of me had always wanted a sister.
Not the right time. She’s in pain.
“It’s going to be okay,” I told her. “Everything is just still raw for him. He’s still adjusting and probably needs time to come to terms with it all. Accept it, you know? He’ll be back to his normal self once it all sinks in. And in the meantime, you’ll be there for him and I’m sure he knows that.”
“Yeah,” she replied, though she sounded unconvinced. I sat there silently, listening to her sniffle a few more times and blow her nose before she spoke again. “Oh, wow. I am so sorry for unloading on you. That really wasn’t my reason for calling at all.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s completely fine.”
“I was actually calling to tell you that the funeral is on Tuesday in D.C. and that if you can make it, I’m sure Mason would really appreciate it if you’d come.”
I hesitated. “I’m not so sure he would. We had a fight and haven’t talked much the past few days.” Which I now realized was probably because he’d been dealing with his ailing father. “I don’t know if he’d want me around.”
I almost laughed when she scoffed over the line. “Trust me, he does. Those three men can have the thickest skulls on the planet sometimes, but they also have the biggest hearts. I have no doubt that Mason loves you. So you guys had a fight. Everyone fights—especially the Cruz brothers—and it probably won’t be your last. But despite their tumultuous relationships with their father, I know that this is hard on all of them. And I think it would really help Mason if you were there.”
How could anyone argue with that? “Your emotional appeal is pretty convincing. Ever thought of going into social work?”
She outright laughed at that. “I have my hands pretty full at the hospital, but thanks. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever want to make my life even more stressful than it already is.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I’ll be there. But if he asks me to leave, I’ll never forgive you.”
“He won’t and yes you would.”
“Thanks, Mickie. I owe you.”
“You’re welcome. And you can repay me by naming your first child after me.”
I was beginning to like this woman more and more. “So she has a sense of humor. Who knew?”
She made a noise that was half snort, half grunt. “God did apparently because he gave me twins.”
She hung up on my laughter, which brought me back to the situation at hand. I had to mentally prepare myself for my reunion with Mason and for however way that reunion would end.
So, there I was. Clutching Mason’s hand as he watched his father’s casket being lowered into the earth. He’d hardly moved throughout the service, his face remaining frozen. I could see no evidence of emotion there, let alone tears swimming in his eyes. And once the service eventually ended and we would be alone again for the first time in over a week, I had no idea what would happen.
Just because I was there for him and he looked appreciative didn’t mean he would forgive the past and take me back. Did it? We were in D.C. and I had no place to stay. So if he snubbed me, I guess I would just drive back to Baltimore and…that would be that.
After the preacher said his final prayers, Mason released my hand to hug and shake hands with the Mastersons. I had no idea what to do and awkwardly stood off to the side. That was, until Diane Masterson approached me, pulling me in for a tight hug before I could get a word out. Although we had never met, Mason had told me all about Sam and Diane and how wonderful they were, how they had taken in Parker at such a young age when Clay befriended him, and then how they had brought Mason and Dawson into their family dynamic. Going by her sweet smile and gentle demeanor, I could see why they were particularly fond of the Masterson matriarch.
“Sorry, but we’re huggers in this family,” she said as she pulled back from me. “I’m Diane Masterson.”
I shook her hand, smiling tentatively. “Very nice to meet you. I’m Sage Tucker.”
She returned my smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sorry that it’s under these circumstances, but I’m pleased to meet you. We’re having lunch at our house and we’d love it if you could join us.”
Panicking, my eyes shot to where Mason stood with the men to find that he was watching me intently. He immediately averted his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“That’s very kind of you, but I’m not sure if I’d be welcome by…other people.”
Her eyes sparkled knowingly as she patted my arm. “Well, it’s my house and I’m inviting you, so no one else can complain.”
That brought a genuine smile out of me and I nodded. “Thank you.”
/> As soon as she walked away, Mason took her place. His face was as emotionless as it had been during the service, and his eyes weren’t as soft as they had been when he’d first seen me. When he wordlessly held out his hand to me, I looked at him in confusion.
“Keys,” he said in a gravelly voice. “I’ll drive.”
##
He didn’t say a word the whole car ride over to the Masterson’s house. And the expression on his face warned me not to utter a sound until he wasn’t behind the wheel of a car. I followed Mason into the house after parking in the driveway, barely able to even take in the scene around me before he grabbed my hand and led me down a hallway.
He opened a door and nudged me through, forcing me down the stairs before I could protest. I heard him mutter to someone on the other side of the door, “Make sure no one comes down here for a few minutes, okay?” Then, he closed the door and descended the stairs behind me.
When he flicked on the lights, I saw a fully refurbished basement with a TV and couches, a pool table in the corner, and a long work bench that had craft supplies scattered across its surface. He pushed me toward another door that turned out to be a bathroom, closing the door behind us, turning the lock with an audible click.
I cautiously turned to look at him, unsurprised to see anger emanating from every inch of his body. I knew I deserved every bit of that ire. “What are you doing here, Sage?” he growled.
I cringed at his tone and struggled to find words, fighting through my fears. “I wanted to be here for you,” I whispered. “You probably don’t want me to be, but I wanted to show you that you matter to me. More than anything, though, I’m here to apologize.”
It was like he glided right over the mention of an apology. “How did you even know about it?”
“Mickie called me,” I answered, unsure if I was supposed to reveal that.
The Art of Sage (Cruz Brothers #2) Page 22
