I swear, she has some kind of sixth sense.
I smile. “Just recovering.” I wink and mentally slap my head. Just tell her the truth. The perfect side of me is still very present in my conscience.
She comes over, straddling my lap. Her blouse dips so far that I catch sight of the swell of her tits, and my dick hardens.
“Tonight, I expect to be thoroughly fucked as a thank-you.” Her lips dip down and press to my mouth.
I take my hand and press it against the back of the head, deepening our kiss. My tongue possesses and dives into her mouth, as though I’m claiming her. She matches my pace, her hands clenching my shirt in her fists. I close the kiss, and her cheeks are rosy, her lips bruised.
“Man, I’ll blow you every day for a kiss like that.” Her eyes widen, and she climbs off my lap. “I’d better go change. Hurry up. Dad goes to bed early.”
I nod, watching her leave my room. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t mind she kept her stuff in another room. It’s a sign she’s not fully committed yet.
A half hour later, Bea and I arrive at her dad’s penthouse with the sauce, noodles, and bread. Bea’s holding it all while I pay for the taxi, and then we’re going to walk a block or so since traffic is lining the street.
I’m about to take the food from her hands when an ambulance turns the corner. It waits patiently in the line of traffic. No sirens or blares of their horn. I glance at Bea because something about seeing it makes me uneasy. She hands me the box, blind as to why they are going the same way we are.
As I cross my fingers, hoping that I’m overreacting, we walk toward the building, but Kyleigh stops us from going up in the elevator.
“Ms. Zanders,” she calls out.
I can’t ignore the bomb that’s about to be set off. I take one last look at Bea. She has a smile in place, so excited to spend the night with a dad she never had a relationship with before.
“Hi, Kyleigh. I’m just bringing him dinner.” She points to the box I’m holding in my hands.
Kyleigh shoots me a small smile. “Gretchen is on her way down. She asked if you could stay here.” She switches her weight from foot to foot.
“Why?” Bea asks before realization hits her.
“I’m not sure,” Kyleigh lies because we both know why.
I guide Bea over to the chairs. “We’ll wait over here.” I place the box on the table, and the two of us sit on the couch.
Bea looks over to me, not moving out of my arms. “Do you think . . .” She doesn’t finish because, when a family member is in hospice, you don’t have to clarify.
“Let’s just wait and see what Gretchen says,” I tell her, wanting to give her as much pain-free time as possible.
The elevator doors ding, and Gretchen comes out with a small box in her hands.
Bea rises to her feet, unable to wait for her to reach us. I follow, and Gretchen pulls Bea into her body. I stare up at the elaborate ceiling adorned with chandeliers and crown molding to hold my own tears back.
Bea immediately starts crying, and I place my hand on her shuddering back.
“When?” she mumbles.
Gretchen hands me the small box. It resembles a cigar box, except it’s made of wood. A tree shape is carved on the top. Inscribed on it is, My greatest gift.
“About twenty minutes ago. He wasn’t doing well all day, Bea. I’m sorry.” Gretchen tightens her hold.
I stand there, helpless, with a box in my hand and my free hand on my girl’s back. Hearing her misery breaks me. I wish I had some sort of control to make this better.
Gretchen eyes me to put the box down, and when I do, she transfers Bea into my arms.
“I have to go make a few phone calls.” Gretchen looks at the doors, and we see the ambulance pulling up outside.
Gretchen picks up the box in her hands and waits for Bea to look at her. “This is for you. Your dad wanted you to have it.”
Bea nods but doesn’t take it.
Having no choice since the paramedics are coming toward the glass doors, Gretchen sets it down on the table and rubs her hand up and down Bea’s back.
She hands me a piece of paper. “This is my cell phone. Feel free to call me whenever.”
I nod, and then Gretchen moves toward the glass doors, talking with the paramedics and bringing them to the back elevators.
“Let’s go, baby,” I urge Bea because the last thing she should see is her dead father being wheeled out of here.
She slowly comes with me, and I pick up the box with my one free hand. Traffic lines the street, so we start walking. Bea is stoic in my arms, quiet and not saying much. Before I realize it, we’re only a few blocks from our apartment, chilled to the bone.
Once we’re back in our place, Bea walks directly to her room and shuts the door. The box burns a hole in my hand, but it’s not my place to open it.
Giving her a few minutes, I make her a cup of tea. She’s still hiding in her room, so I tap lightly on her door. She doesn’t answer, so I turn the knob and peek my head in. She’s lying on her side, staring out the window to the high-rise buildings.
“Bea, baby, I have some tea.” I place it on her night table along with the box.
“I need to be alone tonight,” she says.
Her word, alone, pierces my heart.
“Okay,” I choke out and backtrack out the door.
“I don’t care. She’s a bitch,” Bea responds to my ballistic outrage.
“You’re his daughter. You should be in the first row.”
She shrugs. “I don’t care about that anymore. I just want to say good-bye.”
She turns around for me to button up her black dress. It’s conservative with a modest neckline and long sleeves.
She came out of her room the next morning, a different person. She’s indifferent to everything, but she has come back to sleeping in my bed.
The box sits on her nightstand, and I’m unsure if it’s been opened or not.
“Is your mom coming?” I ask.
Caroline called the next day when the news hit the television networks, but she has yet to come and see how her daughter is doing.
“No. She said she’s with some guy she used to date in Italy.” Usually, she’d be ranting and raving about this, but she shrugs her shoulders once again.
We walk out of our apartment and take the elevators down. Bea stops in her tracks when she sees who’s waiting for us.
Piper stands, and her lips crinkle, holding her arms out for her best friend. Bea saunters over to her, lightly hugs her, and steps away. Piper looks at me with confused eyes. I do Bea’s recent go-to move and shrug. Tanner, my mom, my dad, Brad, and his parents all give their condolences to her. Each one is greeted with a simple, meaningful hug.
“Two limos were sent,” Piper says as she points outside.
“June,” I say. “Bea’s grandmother,” I clarify for those who don’t know her.
All of us go out to the limos, the parents and Brad get in one while Piper and Tanner come with us.
“How are you holding up, sweetie?” Piper snuggles up to her best friend, tightly holding her hand.
Bea is completely unaffected by movements and words around her.
“I’m good,” she comments.
Again, Piper’s eyes find mine.
The limo ride takes no time at all, but the line to be dropped off takes a half hour. The deafening silence is excruciating as Bea stares out the window.
Holy Name Cathedral is in the heart of Chicago.
A sigh leaves each of our lips as we stare at the beautiful room with stained glass on every inch with vases of flowers spread across the room. Up the row lies the casket, and Bea’s eyes are only focused on where her dad remains.
Lily rushes up the aisle, pulling Bea’s hand. “Let’s go. Nana wanted you here twenty minutes ago.”
“There was traffic,” I excuse us.
But Bea just lets her drag her down the marble aisle without a word.
Then, Lily sto
ps in her tracks and eyes Tanner. Letting Bea go, she moseys over to Tanner, placing her hand on the forearm of his arm that’s currently tucked into his pants pocket.
He smiles, and Piper’s eyes are focused on the feminine hand on her man.
“Do you remember me?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t. Have we met?”
Piper’s eyes keep glancing from Lily’s hand to her face.
“Back when I came to see Bea once.”
Tanner unhooks his arm from Piper’s, holding his hand out to Lily. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. Nice to meet you. This is my fiancée, Piper.” He releases his hand fast and places it on Piper’s back.
Piper sticks her hand out, and Lily lazily shakes it while she continues to eye Tanner. I shake my head and meet Bea halfway down the aisle.
Lily’s voice echoes, so everyone can hear her. “We can chat later. I’d better get going.”
I glance back to see Piper smack his arm and roll her eyes. He shrugs because he probably thought he was just meeting a fan, but Piper could see there was an underlying motive with Lily.
When I bring my full attention to Bea, we reach the second row pew, and June stands from the first, wrapping her arms around Bea in a consoling hug. I spot her eyes looking at others with the hopes that they witness her being a caring grandmother. This is all about appearances.
“You two can sit here.” She points to the row.
We sit down, seeing how empty the first pew is with only June, Len, Cate, and another couple I don’t know.
My eyes study the flowers. Son, Brother, Uncle ribbons adorn three of the arrangements, but there’s no Father one in the bunch.
What the hell is wrong with these people?
Hugh’s casket is closed with a picture of him a lot healthier than he was when he died. A giant bouquet of white roses rest on top.
The entire ceremony, the priest doesn’t mention Bea once. The eulogy is done by Len, who talks about Hugh’s professional accolades, but nothing about the man he was. No funny stories about them as children. He might as well have gone up there and said, He was an excellent worker, and then he died.
I call bullshit on the whole speech.
Thankfully, it’s over fast, and everyone begins filing out of the pews. June is the first to follow the casket out of the church. When it gets to us, Bea signals for the next row to go. Lily looks back to check why we aren’t following and glares.
The church empties, and Bea weaves around the pew, looking at each picture of him. Her hand lightly brushes across his face, and it’s the first I’ve noticed she’s allowing the feelings of grief to surface.
I hear the clicking of heels on the marble, and I turn around to find my family and the Ashby’s. They stand back, giving Bea the space she needs, but my mom surprises me when she comes forward.
Without even a look at me, she wraps her arm around Bea’s shoulder and urges her to hug her. Bea falls into her open arms, and my mom brushes her hair with her hand, whispering to her. I can’t hear their conversation, but I only see Bea’s head nodding to whatever my mom’s saying. Within a few minutes, Bea’s limp arms are wrapped tight around my mom’s shoulder’s as all the emotions she’s been hiding pour out.
Bea
LANA COMES INTO THE LIMO with me and Dylan, holding my hand the entire time.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Lana says.
“I know.” I wipe another tear because since they’ve been released, there hasn’t been a way to stop them. “I get a sick enjoyment out of making her uncomfortable. Making her have to explain me just embarrasses her.”
Dylan smiles, and I wonder why.
“Well, you are in charge. You say the word, and we’re out of there.”
I squeeze her hand. “Thank you for coming.”
“We’re McCain’s. We stick together.”
Dylan smiles again, watching his mom and me.
“I’m not,” I admit. I’m a Zander. The only one after my grandmother died.
“You might not hold the name yet, but you are.”
For a woman who hated me only a few weeks ago, it’s nice to hear she considers me family. And the hint at marriage didn’t even make me open the limo door and run down I-94.
We arrive at June’s in the north suburbs. Again, there’s a line of limos waiting to drop off people. I had no idea how loved my dad was.
Once it’s our turn, we walk inside her mansion. It’s not my style, but it screams old money. Dark walls mixed with dark wood. Not a ton of lighting, but a screaming painting above her fireplace is like everyone pointing a finger at me, saying you don’t belong here.
A picture of June is in the middle with everyone around her. Xavier, Lily, and all my cousins are sprinkled at her feet with her grown children behind her, including my father.
How did he live this life and be okay with ignoring me?
I had the intention of asking him these questions, but I was enjoying our relationship toward the end, and I was afraid if I brought up the past, he’d be upset. Now, all the unanswered questions will plague me.
Dylan’s busy talking with his family and shaking hands with people he’s chitchatting with. He’s such a people person, one that people feel comfortable approaching. Actually, his whole family are because, right now, they’re all in a circle, talking to strangers.
Piper comes to my side, gripping my hand in hers. “There’s a garden out back. Let’s go.”
She tugs, and I follow her. We sneak through the kitchen which is busy with servers and cooks preparing today’s luncheon.
“We need this.” She swipes an opened bottle of white wine and leads me through French doors.
Snow covers the garden, and there aren’t any flowers casting a path for us to follow, but we walk over a bridge and to a gazebo on the other side of the small frozen pond.
She sits down, taking a sip of wine, and hands the bottle to me. “You know, I have to be the crazy friend now.” She laughs. “We can’t both be serious.”
Piper’s known for being the ultra-serious one. It took me forever to encourage her to loosen up around me.
“I had to hijack you and steal a bottle of wine.”
I pass it to her, and she downs another swig.
“Man, rich people have good wine.” She smiles, sneaking another gulp.
“Watch out. You’re going to be puking in the woods, and Tanner will have to carry you out.”
She tilts her head, as though considering if it’s worth it.
“Yeah, you’re right.” She hands it to me. “He might get pissed since we have to fly back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I whine. “You won’t even be able to see the apartment.”
“I will after. Promise.”
I think about my friends and Dylan’s family who are here, and here I am, hiding out in some gazebo in a place where I don’t feel like myself.
How have I allowed these people to make me feel ashamed of who I am?
“Hey.” Piper draws my attention.
But my mind is whirling like an F5 tornado right before it plows into a house. I’ve allowed them to treat me however they wanted, and I don’t need to be polite anymore.
“My dad is dead,” I say.
Piper slides over, placing her hand on my leg. “I know. I’m sorry,” she says in her sweet Piper voice.
“No. My dad is dead.”
Her arm wraps around my shoulders to console me. “I know, sweetie. It will just take time.” She’s urging my head to lie on her shoulder, not understanding what I’m conveying.
“No.” I rush to my feet. “My dad is dead, and I don’t have to do this shit if I don’t want to. I don’t need to be here and let them treat me like I’m scum.”
Piper stands up, matching my stance. “No, you don’t,” she agrees.
I laugh at her. “Let’s get out of here. You are here for less than twenty-four hours, and I’m not wasting a minute of it.” I grab her hand and tug her forward.
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“Hold up.” She swipes the wine bottle. “Not without this.”
She holds it up, and I kidnap it from her hands and drink a large gulp.
We cross over the bridge again and go through the kitchen. When we reach the room, everyone is talking in silent tones. June’s eyes find mine, and I match her steady stare with my own.
“Let’s go,” I whisper to Dylan.
He’s talking to some guy, and I have no idea who he is.
“Excuse me. My girlfriend, Hugh’s daughter, needs me.”
“Oh, please. I’m sorry for your loss,” the older gentleman says, looking surprised about who I am.
“Thank you.” I drag Dylan away. “Have you been telling everyone who I am?”
A wide smile crosses his lips. “You bet your ass I have been.”
“You’re a sweetie.” I rise to my tiptoes and kiss his cheek, making that smile larger. “So, I want to go. I don’t need to be here.”
“Okay, whatever you want.” He moves toward the door, whispering to his family members as we go.
We’re all outside, waiting for our limos, when June comes out.
“What are you doing?” She walks directly to me.
I see Len behind her, and soon, Cate, Lily, and Xavier, follow, too.
“We’re leaving,” I say, turning around. Dylan stands by my side, and I feel more confident now. “You don’t want me here anyway.”
“That doesn’t matter. We have a standard, and those who know who you are will gossip if you leave.” She places her hands on her hips and tries to stare me down.
“You think showing up here for a few minutes and sneaking off with your friend with a bottle of wine is responsible? Worthy enough to be a Vitron? Think again. You wonder why you’ve been on the outside? Your mother was nothing but a whore who tricked my son. He’s more of a man than most, and that’s why you are still in our lives.”
Her insult blows the wind out of me. Not many have the capability of stealing words from me, but she hit every insecurity I have in one breath.
“Hold on a second, Mrs. Vitron.” Lana steps in front of me. “Bea has done nothing. She sat quietly while you shunned her to the second pew. She was not mentioned in the eulogy by your son, and she was not mentioned by the priest. No pictures of her were at the church. You’ve erased her out of your family life, and let me tell you, it’s your loss. She’s a beautiful person inside and out, and you will regret the way you’ve treated her. Now, she wants to leave, and that’s what she’s going to do.”
Love Emerged (Love Surfaced #3) Page 22
