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“You’re lost in thought again.”
I sniffed and cleared the lump from my throat. “Sorry. Distracted. How are we doing this? You can’t go in.”
“No. I’ll remain in the Jeep. Wait until the crowd disperses and your mother and James retire inside. Be sure your mother knows you’ve arrived but choose a spot in the rear to sit. I assume she’ll be seated at the front.”
“Likely.”
“If she asks after me, tell her I’ve gone to the loo. If she repeatedly notices my absence, extend my apologies and explain that the church was too hot and stuffy. I felt nauseous and required air. Tell her I will return when I feel better. It will substantiate my inability to eat at the reception. She shouldn’t question it considering the story of illness I told earlier.”
“I doubt they will spend much time at the cemetery in this weather.” I stared at the roiling clouds. “Heck, she might cancel that part altogether. Plus, if you continue to be sick, it gives us an excuse to duck out early. We could go home tonight. She clearly doesn’t need me,” I added with mumbled petulance.
“That’s not wise. I can’t assist with driving, and you’re knackered. You’ve not been sleeping well, and I woke you at four. You’re not undertaking a three-hour drive home.”
“The only reason I’m not sleeping well is because someone,” I smirked, “keeps me up at night doing deliciously nasty things to my body.”
Mordecai arched a brow. “Would you rather I didn’t?”
“I never said that.”
He studied me in such a dissecting way, I cut my gaze to the church.
“You’re unhappy here.”
I huffed. “That’s not a secret. Too many memories.”
“No. It’s her friend James.”
“Friend. Interesting word choice. It’s fine. He seems nice, and she’s clearly happy. That’s what’s important. I’ll survive.”
Surprising me, Mordecai leaned over the console and cupped my jaw, drawing me in for a soft kiss. “If I can offer advice. Don’t regret your life, Ensley. Don’t wallow in the past or burden yourself with future problems that don’t exist. Savor each day as it comes because you never know when it will be your last.”
The service was short and powerful. My heart ached throughout as I was forced to recall the wonderful man who had given me life. As predicted, we forwent visiting the cemetery due to the incessant rain and proceeded to the hall. Mordecai held my hand during the short drive. When I couldn’t find words to translate my feelings, he offered a reassuring squeeze.
It was enough.
About thirty people joined us for lunch, but it was enough for me to go unnoticed. Several people said hello, and I greeted them amicably, introducing Mordecai. When they drifted away, I explained how I knew each person.
“He worked with my dad,” I said of a fellow with a weathered face and youthful eyes.
“Her son and I went to school together. Her name’s Mabel. She and Dad were on the PTA.” A curvy woman with a swan-like grace and a warm smile.
“That’s Mom’s friend Grace. They met at the hospital. Mom was a nurse, and Grace was a phlebotomist until she retired. I believe she still works at the blood donor clinic.”
Mordecai grinned facetiously, leaning in and whispering, “We have something in common.”
I chuckled. “Yes, only Grace chose the profession because she likes drawing blood.”
“Vile.”
“Stop pretending you hate it.”
He eyed me, surreptitiously scraping his teeth along his bottom lip, giving me a peek of his pronounced eyeteeth. “Stop pretending you like it.”
“I’m not pretending.” Leaning closer, I added, “It was incredibly erotic.”
Mordecai hmmed in a manner that suggested he would never understand.
We mingled, sticking close to one another. My gaze was repeatedly drawn to my mother, who flittered about the room with James on her arm. He brought her food, tucked her hair behind her ear, and squeezed her hand reassuringly every so often.
