Page 17 of The Wedding Report


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Lance cut the engine, grasped the bouquet, and stepped outside. The path clicked underneath his shoes as he made his way to the gravesite. His baby sister. Amelia looked up to him. He smiled to himself, recalling their relationship.

“Why did you tell him that?” Amelia had asked.

“He’s not good enough for you,” Lance had said. Deshawn Campbell. Captain of the football team and bad news for his baby sister. He didn’t threaten the guy, but he said enough for the boy to stay clear.

Amelia had rolled her eyes as he drove them home from school. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself.”

He nodded. “Sure you can.”

She had shoved at his shoulder. “I mean it Lance. I liked him.”

“He’s no good. Trust me.”

“Why?” She had rolled her eyes.

How did he explain guys to his sister? “I saw him with another girl. Guys like that don’t deserve girls like you. You deserve better.”

He parked the car in their driveway. Amelia didn’t move. Instead, she took off her seatbelt and reached for him. She hugged his neck tight.

Then she kissed his cheek. “You’re the best brother in the entire world.”

“Don’t let that get around, okay?”

“Why not?” She hugged him again. “You’re always taking care of me.”

Lance blinked, staring at his sister’s headstone. Protect her. He had failed that big time. Yet, no one was to blame for her accident.

Chapter 7

“I miss you, Daddy.” Chantelle sat on the stone bench in front of her father’s grave. She stared at his carved gravestone: Loving husband and father. Gone too soon.

She further heard the maintenance crew pruning and sweeping, while the wind rustled through the trees. Birds and small animals chirped and squeaked as the gates creaked when opening and closing for outgoing and incoming visitors.

“Mom’s doing okay.” Chantelle continued. “She’s happy. I’m still getting used to her having remarried. I need more time to adjust. Though I’m surprised Grant is okay since he… was in the room with you when you passed.” She choked back a sob. “I wish I had been there too.”

She blew out her cheeks. “Anyway, I wanted to stop by before work gets crazy. I love you.”

It was better to remember the happy times. Her father was the best man she knew. He’d nursed her broken heart after things crashed and burned with Lance. Chantelle remembered lying in her hospital bed. Lance had left to talk with his parents. They hooked her up to various equipment: an IV, a heart monitor, and a finger clip.

“How are you feeling?” Her dad had asked.

A twinge of pain took over her chest. “I’m okay, but...”

“But what?” Her father raised a thick eyebrow. He repeated his question. “But what?”

“I know I disappointed you.” She rubbed at her stomach with her free hand, feeling the pain in her chest increase.

He stroked her cheek with his free hand. “Do you think this changes how I see you?”

She bobbed her head.

“It doesn’t Chantelle. I don’t care what you do, you’re still my daughter.”

“I’m so sorry.” A tear spilled down her face.

Her father leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I wish I could take this pain away.”

Chantelle’s body trembled as she cried. How did her life take a turn for the worse?

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