Page 24 of The Dearly Departed

"Oh, that happened …" He rubbed his fingertips against his chin for a moment, then replied, "I guess it was about fourteen years ago now. Wow, fourteen years … feels like yesterday sometimes."

I turned away to stare out the window. "Do you have other kids?" Funny, I had known the man for a year and never thought to ask before.

"No, just Jacob. My wife and I were never lucky enough to have more."

Wife.

"Hmm," I grunted, nodding.

I hadn't known Leonard had been married either.

I’d never been able to trust anyone before, but this man came along, offering food and shelter, and I took him at his word without knowing a single thing about him.

How stupid could I be?

But maybe it wasn’t him I trusted. Maybe it was my intuition. Maybe I’d simply known enough shitty people to know when one decent man stumbled into my life, and I’d blindly trusted that.

"Lisa passed away a few years ago," he answered, as if reading my mind. "Pneumonia."

"Sucks," I muttered. "I didn't know you—"

"Ah," he interjected, waving his hand dismissively. "It's life, Bram. We never know what it's going to throw at us or what lessons we're going to learn along the way. All we can do is persevere and find the little sparks of light within the darkness. That's what makes it all worth it."

I snorted, thinking about the McDonald family and the tremendous loss they'd just suffered.

"Little sparks," I mocked with a snicker and shake of my head. "What if it's just pitch-black everywhere?"

"Is that what you think?"

“It’s what I know,” I challenged.

He didn’t push the subject the way I’d thought he might. He simply left it alone as we drove toward the funeral home. I couldn’t wait to get back. Couldn’t wait to smoke that cigarette. Couldn’t wait to get rid of thoughts about Travis McDonald and—

“Who is Anna, Bram?”

Closing my eyes, I twisted my lips and spit, “No one.”

“Doesn’t seem like no one. Actually, it seems like she’s the exact opposite of no one.”

“Drop it,” I demanded in a low, angry tone.

“Was she … a girlfriend?”

Hot, fiery rage unfurled from my belly as I turned to face him and shouted, “Shut up, Leonard!”

“Not a girlfriend, okay. Was she—"

“I said, shut the fuck up!”

His lips closed in an instant, his brow furrowed and his cheeks red. He shriveled back a bit, like I’d just slapped him across the face, and good. Fucking good. Maybe he’d listen now. Maybe he’d learn to keep his mouth shut and keep his nose out of shit that was none of his damn business.

I looked out the window at the passing trees and businesses and power lines. The urge to jump out of this car and run as far away as I could go zipped through my veins, tickling at my bones.

But Ike and Shawn would be back from school soon, and I couldn’t leave them behind. I’d need to wait for them, pack our shit. We could slip out in the middle of the night and get as far away from The Llewellyn Family Funeral Home as possible. Away from this fucking old man who couldn’t mind his own damn business.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” Leonard said apologetically. “I just care about you. You do understand that, right? I care.”

The second those words were uttered, my anger was washed away by overwhelming despair, and I had to bite my bottom lip to keep it from wiggling.