AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You sure you want to go?” He narrows his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything. You can stay. Or I could come with you.”
“You can’t,” I say. “The McDougall customization is behind. I’ll be okay. It’s fine.”
He pauses, the wheels in his head turning.
After a moment, he walks to the wall and grabs a set of keys.
He pushes them over the counter to me. “Take one of the trucks,” he says. “Park it at the airport, so it’s there when you come back.”
I stare at the keys.
There’ll be things to deal with at home. The house, the accounts, Mirai, the condolences, obligations they had with charities and fundraisers and…
“You’re not coming back,” Jake finally says when I don’t take the keys.
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. My throat fills with a softball-sized lump that hurts so much. I don’t want to leave, but I don’t…
“I don’t know what’s going to happen. For sure.” I finally look up at him. “There’s a lot to deal with there. I can’t say how long I’ll be.”
He stares at me, and Noah has nothing to say for the first time since I’ve been here.
Jake sighs and picks up the keys, shoving his beer over to Noah before walking off without another look in my direction. “Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
Tiernan
It’s not raining.
I thought that was how it was supposed to be during a funeral.
Like in the movies. It always rains.
The shadows of the trees glide over the windows of the black limo as we ride through Glendale, on our way to the cemetery. I lean against the door, Mirai sitting across from me as the procession carries my parents to the chapel first, our car following.
Of course, it’s a beautiful day. The sun never failed to shine on my mother.
But then I roll my eyes behind my large, black glasses, letting out a quiet sigh. Yeah, I should totally say that in my eulogy. I’ll have the whole congregation rolling with laughter at all the cheese.
Jesus.
I stare out the window, rubbing my gloved hands together, but still, nothing comes to mind. Not in the thirty-six hours since I’ve been back in California. I can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t sound like a lie.
I mean, they weren’t without talent and beauty. Why can’t I muster a single heartfelt word to offer up at that podium to fulfill my final duty as their daughter?
I should be able to do that.
But no. Every sweet, saccharine lie makes me feel like a fraud, and I can’t utter the words, because I’ve lost the stomach to live in a way that isn’t genuine.
“You’re tan,” Mirai says.
I turn my eyes on her, seeing her sunglasses dangle from her fingers, her hair pulled back in a tight, low ponytail.
I love how she looks. She wears a black pencil skirt and a black jacket, a shiny black belt secured around her waist with high heels. Our personal shopper, on the other hand, seems to think I’m still twelve in the dress they prepared for me. I’m covering it up with a long black coat, and since I have gloves on, Mirai must be talking about my face, the only visible skin.
I nod.
“Did you like it up there?”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
