Within fifteen seconds of the sound of the gunshots, the door to the lab opened, and Charlie came in with Hemp behind her. I looked, and saw Trina standing just outside at the bottom of the stairs.
Gem saw her too, and went to her and took her hand. Hemp came to me and put his hands on my shoulders, facing me.
“I’m sorry, mate. I know you loved her, and because you did, it was the right thing to do. Now you and Gem take Trina inside, and Charlie and I will prepare her body for burial.”
I nodded. I thought I should say thank you, but I didn’t think I could utter anything without breaking down. As I walked by her, Charlie held her hand out and I took it briefly. The small squeeze told me everything I needed to know and feel. I was so glad we found her and made her a part of our little family.
I took Gem’s other hand and the three of us made our way back to the house. I’d forgotten my gun, but in typical Gem fashion, Suzi was hanging off her shoulder at ready.
It was more than three hours before Charlie and Hemp came back in. I didn’t realize it had been so long until they returned. My mind was far away, and Trina had long gone to bed, leaving Gem and me in a comfortable silence – the silent thoughts of those we loved and would never see again.
“We dug the grave for a service tomorrow morning, Flex,” Hemp said. “At the back of the yard.”
“Near the tree line,” Charlie added. “It’s shady and beautiful there, so . . .”
“It’s perfect,” I said. “Thank you both so much for doing that for her, and for us.”
They sat in the arm chairs opposite the sofa and leaned back, the sweat still glistening on their skin. It was now September in Georgia, and the nights were hot, too. Digging in this weather was not an easy task.
“We’re a family,” Charlie said. “I’ve felt it since I first arrived here at this house. I loved the two of you immediately, but meeting Hemp and Trina just drove it all home for me. I lost my blood family, but I’m not without.”
Gem stood and went to Charlie. She held her arms out.
“Get up, you sweaty mess. I need a hug.”
Charlie couldn’t suppress a smile, and she stood with a grunt, and put her arms around Gem’s neck, as Gem’s arms wrapped tightly around her.
“This is going to sound really stupid,” Gem said. She pulled away, put her palms on both of Charlie’s cheeks, and said, “You’re fucking awesome, and I love you, too.”
Then she put her cheek to Charlie’s, closed her eyes, and eventually pulled away and went back to her seat. Charlie fell back into her chair smiling.
“So tomorrow, then,” I said. “First light?”
Hemp looked at me and nodded. “Sure. Let’s get up early and dress in our Sunday best, for what they are. A light breakfast, then we’ll have a service.”
I smiled. “Tomorrow is Sunday, isn’t it? That’s appropriate. Jamie would’ve taken the girls to church while Jack would’ve played pool with his friends. She didn’t care, though. She told me once that he worked so hard during the week that if he wanted to play pool rather than sit in a pew, then he deserved it. He loved her all the more for it.”
“I’m exhausted,” Gem said. She looked at her watch. It was 11:30. “Flex and I didn’t even think about food tonight, so we’ll look forward to that breakfast, light or heavy.”
She held out her hand, and I groaned myself to my feet. “Night, guys. Thanks again. Love you both.”
They both waved at me, and I let Gem pull me toward our bed.
Then she stopped short, pulled me back in the living room, grabbed Suzi, and proceeded back toward the bedroom, me in tow.
“I’m slipping. Getting too comfortable,” she said.
As Gem and I lay in bed, my arm over her shoulder and our bodies tucked together, I said, “I never thought much about that Springsteen song, Atlantic City. But there’s a repeating verse that I can’t get out of my head.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“Now, baby, everything dies, honey, that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back...”
“That is eerie. I don’t think I like that song anymore,” Gem said.
Her breathing grew long and steady, and within a minute, I knew she was asleep. And I was right behind her.
Dead Hunger: The Flex Sheridan Chronicle Page 54
