Page 53 of Restored Dreams

“Lily,” he says a little too loudly and a little too enthusiastically. “How was your vacation?” Forget the funeral, he’s going to drag us back more than a week to when life was good. I want to take Hank out with my fists and then throw him in the coffin with Lauren. Asshole.

“It was wonderful,” Lily teases, raising a brow at him before looking over at Midge. “One day, we’ll need to share stories about it.” Her other brow rises, emphasizing the stunt these two pulled by somehow arranging our vacation together. Hank chuckles and Midge pinks, but now isn’t the time for answers. Has it only been ten days since Lily and I were secluded in our bubble of bliss? It has.

Hank interrupts my thoughts when he speaks to Lily again, touching her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

My head pops up as if the question is foreign to me. In all the chaos, it’s something I haven’t asked Lily, and now, I want to punch myself instead of Hank. This is her sister. I have no idea if they’ve spoken over the years although she told me she knew nothing about Lauren’s condition or her whereabouts. Either way, Lily must have her own demons and torments about this day, and I’ve been so absorbed in Chopper I haven’t paid her the attention she’s due. Is she grieving? Is she confused like Chopper? Does she need me?

“Oh, I’m fine.” She waves off Hank and brushes a piece of her butterscotch colored hair behind her ear. Her hair has a curl to it I haven’t seen before as if she did it up for today. Some special occasion, I think as I watch my brother lean forward and kiss Lily’s cheek. I’m back to wanting to punch him.

Midge steps up next and embraces Lily, speaking low into her ear. Lily nods against my sister-in-law, and a pang of jealousy courses through me. Everyone’s touching her when I want to be the one holding her. My anger at first learning Lily knew Chopper and then the reveal of Lauren’s death has dissipated to respect for Lily’s kindness toward my son. Then it returned to the longing I’ve had for her, especially after our week together. I miss her something fierce.

Chopper waits just inside the viewing room, still as a statue. I nod at Lily, fisting my fingers in my pockets so I don’t reach out and drag her to me. Nearing my son, he turns to me, and the fear in his eyes breaks me. He looks wounded beyond anything I can fix, and my heart rips to shreds. Damn Lauren. That’s right, God damn her to hell for what she’s doing again—abandoning Chopper. I reach for his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to go any farther if you don’t wish,” I offer. Chopper nods, his eyes searching for Lily. She has stepped around me, standing close enough I can smell her fresh air fragrance. Summer rain. Sunshine. Something fruity. My thoughts leap to ten days ago and us dancing on the deck of the beach house. I’ve never wanted time to roll backward more than I do at this moment.

Lily holds out a hand, and Chopper curls his fingers within his aunt’s. It’s strange to think of her in this manner or have him acknowledge it, but a twinge of comfort comes to me as Lily leads my son to see his mother for the first and last time.

“She doesn’t look how I imagined her,” he says. Lauren was very opposite her sister with her once raven black hair, cold blue eyes, and more angular features than the roundness her younger sibling once had. Her hair has grayed, and her face looks swollen. I can’t see her eyes, and I’m thankful. Lily looks up at Chopper.

“What did you think she would look like?”

“In my head, I envisioned you.” His voice breaks, and I’m not certain if it’s sorrow or relief. I’m glad Lauren looks nothing like Lily. The contrast is refreshing, and hopefully, Chopper will continue to separate the two women in his head.

Lily smiles weakly, her mouth falling open like she wants to tell him something, but then she changes her mind. We step aside as an older woman comes forward. Lily stays to the right of the coffin, greeting the woman who introduces herself as a nurse. She doesn’t have much to offer about Lauren other than she didn’t suffer much. I take no comfort in what I hear. I don’t wish pain and injury on Lauren, but I don’t have any sympathy for her either. Instead, all my thoughts circle around Lily and my son.

Minutes later, the funeral director comes to the opposite side of the coffin and begins a short prayer. I admit my mind wanders off, drifting with the lull of his monotonous voice. I’m slammed in the chest with the vision of Lauren sidling up to me and seducing me. Her mouth near mine, telling me Lily won’t mind. She was a woman, and Lily was a child. I remember fighting her off, but later, I’m in a back room with her. I remember whimpering Lily’s name as I did what I shouldn’t have done, and all the while Lauren encourages me to take what I need.

“That’s right. Think of Lily.” Her slurred voice rattles through my head like ice cubes in an empty glass. Cold surrounds me, and I shiver. Midge’s hand comes to my hand, but I don’t respond to her touch. Instead, I look over at Lily, my heart racing within my chest. Sweat trickles down my temple despite the chill, and I want Lily’s hand on me. I need her warmth to still the coolness covering my flesh. I’m staring at her, unabashedly, ignoring what’s happening around us. She’s a seat over from me, on the other side of Chopper, but I can’t let up. My eyes refuse to tear away from her as if Lauren might wake up, cackle like the witch she was, and steal Lily away from me, steal my son. My eyes shift to him, and I draw the outline of his face, taking in his floppy hair, his thick nose like mine, and his blues eyes, thankfully soft and sorrowful like his aunt and not penetrating like his mother’s.

Quickly, the service ends, and we stand. The director asks if we’d like to say a final word before they close the casket, and Chopper declines. We’re ready to exit the main room when the director announces he needs pall bearers. The funeral attendees number only a few with the nurse, Crystal, and a man no one asks about. The rest of the people are my family. Hank, Chopper, and I step forward although the last thing I want to do is touch the coffin. I don’t want Chopper to either, as if holding the handle will somehow bring him into contact with Lauren on some level.

We wait outside as the coffin is prepared and then assist in lifting the wooden rectangle into a hearse. Hank says he will follow in his car, which leaves Lily behind us. Alone. I don’t like this setup.

“Lily, ride with us,” I say with a sternness to my voice, practically demanding her.

“I don’t want to leave my car here.” She dismissively waves, but I don’t like the crack in her voice.

“You should go with her,” Chopper states, and I find myself stuck between knowing I should comfort my son and wanting to be near Lily.

“No, I’ll go with you,” I say, but I’m still looking back at her car behind Hank’s.

“Why don’t we both ride with Lily?” he suggests, and I want to tackle hug him. Instead, I nod and stalk toward her car. She’s already in the driver seat, but I open the door without permission.

“What the…?” She curbs her tongue as Chopper rounds her car to the passenger side.

“I’ll drive.” I hold out my hand to help her out of the car, and Chopper climbs into the back seat.

“This isn’t necessary,” Lily mutters, standing in my space and holding her ground. I lean forward, my lips nearing her ear.

“Don’t make me spank you in front of these people to get my way.” Her breath hitches, and I pull back to see her eyes dilate. She’d like it, and my dick jolts to life. This isn’t the time nor were my words appropriate, but it gets her moving. I shuffle her around the vehicle, keeping my hand on the small of her back until she slips into the passenger seat. I’m honestly wondering if anyone would care if I just gunned it out of this parking lot and sped back to Pasadena instead of following the hearse to the cemetery.

When I return to the driver’s seat, the dazed glaze in Lily’s eyes returns, telling me she’d never understand if we left abruptly. Her head rests on her hand. Her elbow perched on the edge of the door. She’s a million miles away, and I’m grateful I demanded to drive. I don’t need her getting in an accident.

We arrive at the burial plot and stand under a gloomy sky as the funeral director reads another prayer. My hand returns to Lily’s back as if magnetically pulled to the spot, and I don’t remove it even as we stand on the edge of the grave. Chopper remains somber, hands folded before him with his head lowered as we await the final words.

Hank steps forward and shakes the director’s hand, and I follow suit. We walk as a clump, sticking close but not touching as we near our cars once more. Lily stops a few feet from hers and turns back to the gravesite. Like Lot to his wife, I want to tell her not to look back. I want the past to be the past and hopefully be buried with the woman who changed everything, but Lily remains frozen, a pillar of salt rooting her to the earth as she stares. I slow my gait and follow her gaze.

“I just want to make sure she goes in the grave.” It’s an odd statement, and we pause as the cemetery workers begin lowering the casket. The scratch of shovels against dirt echoes in the silence around us, and Lily begins to visibly quake.