Moving Forward (3 page)

Ava, I miss you!
And I had no doubt it would get worse in the days and weeks and months to come. Adjusting to life without my sister would certainly take time, but I couldn’t focus on my grief, and the reason why was curled up in a crib, looking angelic in a white sleeper decorated with little red and pink flowers. Despite the pain and shock of the last few hours, I smiled as I looked at my sleeping niece.

She was so beautiful, completely peaceful, though I suspected she wouldn’t be that way for long—another half hour, maybe, and she would be ready for a diaper change and a bottle and… well, whatever else three-month-olds needed first thing in the morning.

“I guess I’ve got a lot to learn, sugar bear,” I whispered, feeling a little shaken at the realization that Payne and I were now responsible for Aubrey. We were her legal guardians, which meant adjustments to our lives in ways I couldn’t begin to fathom. It would have been easy to panic, but somehow I refrained from doing so, and I reminded myself that Ava and Matt had chosen me and Payne to care for Aubrey because they knew they could trust us.
I won’t let you guys down, sis,
I promised silently
. I swear. No one could be better parents to Aubrey than you and Matt, but Pay and I will love her and protect her and give her the best life possible, and I will make damn sure she knows all about you and Matt. I will keep the two of you alive for your daughter
.

It was the least I could do. I would share my memories of Ava and Matt, and I would make sure Aubrey knew that she had been the center of their world. Yes, it would be an adjustment, learning how to take care of a baby, but I didn’t for a second doubt that Payne and I could and would handle it. Somehow. That was what family did, after all, a fact I held onto as the door behind me opened and closed. Without turning around, I knew it was Payne, and I sighed when his strong arms wrapped firmly around my waist, and I leaned back, into his embrace.

We stood for a moment, watching Aubrey sleep, and Payne rested his head on my shoulder. “She is so beautiful.” His breath was wonderfully warm, fanning over my neck, and I smiled—a real, genuine smile—for the first time in hours.

“She’s stunning,” I agreed. “She looks like a little doll. And… she looks just like Ava did as a baby.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen in the photos Ava sent, Aubrey has the Truman eyes.”

“Pay….” I turned in his arms. “Aubrey isn’t going to have any actual memories of Ava and Matt, and that breaks my heart. All of this is just so unfair. Mom said the driver who hit them had been drinking, and despite knowing that, my father has been down at Griffin’s Pub all night.”

It made me physically sick, thinking about him holed up in some dark corner, downing one shot after another, and I didn’t resist when Payne pulled me closer, holding me tight against his body, as if he could somehow shelter me from the particular brand of pain my father was an expert at causing. I melted into him, closing my eyes and wrapping my arms around his waist, anchoring us together, finding comfort, warmth. Payne’s nearness was exactly what I needed to rejuvenate me and strengthen me for the painful moments and the difficult decisions that awaited all of us as we figured out how to say goodbye to Matt and Ava and still somehow keep focused on the future Aubrey was counting on us to build for her.

None of it would be easy, and more tears would certainly fall, but standing there, wrapped in Pay’s arms, I knew as long as I had him to lean on, I would make it through to the other side.

Payne

Shortly
after noon, a somewhat-rested Emma and a still-exhausted-but-damn-determined Jamie insisted on going to the funeral home to begin the process of final arrangements for Matt and Ava, and I offered to go with them. Jamie seemed to be holding it together rather well, all things considered, but I knew how much he was hurting. He wanted to be strong for his mother, but I was concerned for him. I was well aware that being vulnerable with anyone wasn’t easy for my James, but with me, he could let his guard down and know it was safe. It had taken some time for him to feel completely at ease with me, but now he did, and I wanted very much to offer him comfort and strength in whatever way possible. But Jamie assured me he was fine. And he asked if I could stay with Aubrey so the next door neighbor could at least return to her house long enough to shower and change before returning—at her own insistence—to help with visitors dropping in to offer comfort and/or provisions.

It was my first time alone with Aubrey. Actually, it was my first time alone with any baby, and needless to say, I was more than a little nervous. “Keep in mind that Uncle Pay is new to this, so take it easy on me, princess.”

Aubrey simply looked up at me with big blue eyes, and I knew the little girl would have me wrapped around her finger before she uttered her first actual words. She was a mixture of Ava and Matt, and she was perfect. Beautiful. Sweet. I held her for a long time after feeding her, and mentally, I was listing everything Jamie and I would need to do to prepare our apartment for the little girl’s arrival. The guest room would need to be converted into a proper nursery, with a crib and all the other necessities, and we would need to begin baby-proofing everything. Sure, it would be a while before Aubrey was mobile, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Jamie and I needed to discuss what would work best as far as child care—a private nanny or a daycare center. It was overwhelming. But I knew we would handle everything, one step at a time. No, neither of us had ever thought we would actually be in this position, even when Matt and Ava drafted their official Will and Testament, but the unimaginable had become reality, and together we would do whatever was best for the little girl left in our care.

In the meantime, I decided there was something I wanted to do for Jamie, and when Mrs. Sutherland returned, I left Aubrey in her care. After changing into fresh jeans and T-shirt, I grabbed my wallet and the keys to the rental car.

“If Jamie and Emma get back before me, just tell him I won’t be gone long,” I told the accommodating neighbor.

Mrs. Sutherland promised to give Jamie the message, and less than twenty minutes later, I parked in front of Griffin’s Pub. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Russ. Once, I had respected the man. He had treated me with respect (more so than he ever had Jamie), but once I came out, Russ suddenly had no use for me, and while that was insulting, what made me hate the man was his total disregard for his son, the man I loved more than life. Anyone who hurt my husband could happily kiss my ass. Russ included. Hell, as far as I was concerned, Russ
especially
could kiss my ass. If I never had to see the man again, that was fine, but I wasn’t going to stand back and leave it to Jamie to try and reason with Russ when he was already shouldering more than enough reasonability. His mother was really leaning on him, and frankly, Emma ranked far higher than Russ in my book. I wasn’t surprised by the surge of annoyed disgust I felt when I finally spotted Russ’s truck in the pub’s parking lot, proof the man was indeed inside drinking when he should have been with his wife (estranged or not), supporting her through the ordeal of arranging their daughter’s and son-in-law’s funerals.

Gathering my emotions as best I could, I got out of the car and walked into the pub.

It was small, dark, the smell of cigarette smoke hung heavily in the air. After a moment, my eyes adjusted, and I spotted Russ in a corner booth. He had a shot glass and a bottle, and I clenched my jaw as I crossed the room to stand beside his table. He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes that instantly grew chilled.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked with a sneer. I wanted to punch him in the face, but logically, I knew it wouldn’t do him any good, and I didn’t want to add to Jamie’s burden by getting myself arrested for assaulting his bastard father.

“What am I doing here?” I snapped, glaring at him. “You know, I could ask you the same fucking question, Russ, because this sure as hell isn’t where you need to be.” Not wanting to cause a scene, I sat down across from him, and he returned his attention to his shot glass, staring down at it rather than facing me. “Emma and Jamie are trying to organize funerals for Ava and Matt, and they could use your support, but instead you’re here, bellied up to a bottle like the fuckin’ lush you’ve become.”

Honestly, I didn’t see any reason to pull my punches. Russ wasn’t someone who would respond to gentle reasoning—no, he was a blunt man, and he needed someone willing to be brutally blunt with him. I figured I was up to that task. More than Jamie. My love was a gentle soul. He had already had one nasty confrontation with his father three years earlier, and they hadn’t spoken since, so it was my turn to deal with Russ Truman’s bigoted ignorance.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke, and I knew Russ was being purposely difficult. “I get that you hate me,” I went on, “and believe me when I say James knows exactly how you feel about him, Russ, but I do know you loved Ava. I think you respected Matt. And I guess at some point, you and Emma were a typical couple in love. Something tells me you still love Emma.”

“Is there a point to this?” He reached for the bottle, or tried to, but I plucked it from his reach and set it aside, which drew his red-rimmed eyes back to mine.

“The point is, Emma needs you to be there for her.”

“She has Jamie.”

“Thank God for that, but you’re her husband—”

“We’re separated.”

It was a weak argument, and I rolled my eyes. “Fine, you’re separated, but you aren’t divorced, and even if you were divorced, Ava was still your daughter, and you owe it to her to be there for her mother.”

“What makes you a fuckin’ expert?” Russ snapped, snatching back the bottle and pouring himself a shot, which he quickly downed. “Both you and James think you fuckin’ know all there is to know about all there is to know, but….” He laughed, but it was a bitter, hollow, and angry sound. “I don’t need some faggot telling me what I should do and what I shouldn’t do, and I don’t need you preaching to me about what my obligations are to Emma and Ava. I fuckin’ know. I know my daughter is dead, and there ain’t anything anyone can do about it, so why the hell should I plan some damn funeral, huh? Why? What good will it do to sit around and cry? Ava and Matt will still be dead. So don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, ’cause all I want to do is sit here and drink, and if you’re so worried about Emma, you and my fuckin’ fag of a son can handle everything.”

I shook my head. “Christ, you are so selfish!” I leaned across the table. “Fine. Jamie and I will help Emma. You stay here. Drink and look for answers in the bottom of a bottle, but I’ll tell you this: as soon as you sober up again, the facts will still remain—your marriage will still be in shambles, Ava and Matt will still be gone because a drunk
like you
decided to drive when he shouldn’t have, and you will still have a son who is a better man than you could ever hope to be, you miserable bastard.”

Standing, I looked down at him, but he didn’t lift his eyes. “I came here because Emma wanted to know if you were okay, and she had some foolish hope you would finally step up and act like a husband and a father. But I can see you will never be anything more than a tragic embarrassment to your family. It’s sad. And you’re disgusting, and I can’t believe I was ever stupid enough to see you as worthy of my respect.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond. There was nothing the bastard could say that I wanted to hear. He was drunk, angry, bitter, and so self-involved he couldn’t see past himself to care for anyone else, and I hated him because I knew his refusal to be a husband and father would cause Emma and Jamie pain. Again. It made me furious, but there really wasn’t anything I could do, and I decided Russ wasn’t worth my time or Jamie’s.

When I made it back to Emma’s, I noted her car was in the drive, which meant she and Jaime were back from the funeral home. Other cars lined the drive as well, and as I didn’t feel up to making conversation with anyone other than Jamie or Emma, I went in the side door to the kitchen.

Mrs. Sutherland was there, and she told me Emma was in the living room with a few ladies from the church she attended. Jamie was upstairs, and I opted to check in on him.

“Jamie’s exhausted, and I’m more than a little worried, so if anyone asks for him, can you maybe tell them he’s resting?” I looked at the kindly neighbor imploringly, and she smiled and assured me she would run interference for a while. I decided the woman was indeed a saint. It was a relief to know someone so dependable and kind had been there—and was still there—when Emma needed her. I made a mental note to thank her properly later as I bounded upstairs to Jamie’s old bedroom where I had dropped our bags after we arrived.

Jamie was there, sitting on the bed, and he looked up when I stepped inside. I could see he had been crying.

Wordlessly, I kicked off my shoes and sat on the bed with my back against the headboard. Jamie shifted easily so he was sitting between my legs, and I wrapped my arms around him.

“I never knew so many decisions had to be made when planning a funeral and….” Jamie shook his head. “What type of casket. What kind of flowers. Who will be speaking, and do we want the funeral home to find a clergyman or do we know someone. I finally just told the guy what I thought Ava would like, flower wise.”

“Red and white carnations,” I offered. Those had been her favorite.

“Yeah. I said the same for Matt. I didn’t think it would matter to him, and likely, he would want whatever Ava liked.”

“I agree.”

“And we got… the coffins are matching, as if that matters, but the funeral director said it would look nice at the service.” Tiredly, he sagged back against me. “My mom knows a priest who will speak, and I said I would say something, and I… when the director asked if we wanted to have a viewing, or open casket at the funeral, I said no, because Ava wouldn’t have wanted that. I’m sure of it. I remember Ava, after our Grandma Patty died… after the funeral, Ava said there was nothing more morbid than people standing around looking at a body and talking about how ‘nice’ the person looks.” He laughed a little, at the memory of a time with his sister, but I could tell he was crying as well. “She said she wouldn’t want people just standing there and looking at her, and today… today, sitting in that office, I recalled that conversation, and I could almost hear Ava saying ‘don’t you dare let them put me on display’, so I told the director no viewing and keep the caskets closed.”