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“Yeah. They aren’t officially ruling my dad’s death a suicide until they do some more tests.”
“What kind of tests?”
“I don’t know. Gun powder residue and bullet matching stuff.” It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I did. I just didn’t know what to expect. If my father really killed himself, what would that mean? And if he didn’t? My brain couldn’t process all the outcomes or scenarios. I was waiting for facts because I couldn’t deal with any more speculation.
Facts.
The single tool I had to keep my sanity in all areas of my severally crumbling worlds.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t at the funeral,” Harper said. “I’m sorry for a lot of things. I should have been around more, Lana.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said.
“Were Anita and Brock assholes to you?”
Just my reaction to their names and recalling the encounter I’d had with them earlier by my father’s grave told me it would take a dose of strong liquor to wash down the bitter taste they’d left behind.
“No more than usual,” I said around a strangled breath. “My father carried a picture in his wallet. At least, I think he still did. It was of my mom and me and him. I asked if I could have it and Anita basically told me to fuck off.”
“Bitch,” Harper said.
I didn’t know why I was holding on to a simple picture. I just wanted something of my dad’s, some memory that wasn’t tainted.
“What about the fire? Any word?”
“Hopefully, in the next day or two we should get the official fire report. They’re pretty sure it was arson, but the details will come in soon.”
Harper nodded. “Now we just have to wait for the insurance to kick in. They’d said that they’d have a check for us around New Year’s, right?”
“Yeah, right around there.” They were taking their sweet time with this and the New Year was still a few weeks away. “Will you tell me about you?” I asked. “I’ve missed you, and I just feel like so much has been going on in your life and I know nothing about it.”
Harper gave a guilty look, then a shy smile. “Now isn’t the time to talk about it.”
“Ah, now is the perfect time! Please, Harp. Give me something.”
“Okay…I eloped.”
I wish I was drinking something so I could have spit it out. “What? When? With who?”
“Rhett. We’ve been seeing each other and I…love him. But we had some issues. Okay…I had some issues. But he came to see me at my parents. Fought for me. Refused to leave until I admitted the truth.”
“And what’s that?”
“I love him,” she said. “So much. I didn’t think it was possible. But I do. He makes me laugh. Makes me think life can be fun and easy. But he challenges me to be better. He’s intense and a little wicked, and I just love him.”
Listening to my best friend rave about her husband. Wow. Husband. Was incredible. It also made me zone in on certain words.
Intense.
Casual.
Fun.
Challenging.
It was Jack and Cal. Two sides to the coin and Harper got it in one man.
“I’m sorry,” Harper whispered. “I didn’t mean to
