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“Sure, sure,” he answered, sounding confused.
My mother had already pulled Parker into a tight hug. I ducked out the side door and looked upward, trying to breathe in deep gulps of air. Thank God there was an escape out of that room. The humidity would take a while to adjust to again. This was nothing like Paris. I’d been home all of three hours and I already missed the crisp air. Being in New Orleans wasn’t supposed to get to me, but it did.
The door cracked. I heard the murmur of people talking. Coffee cups clanking on saucers. I didn’t want to know who the footsteps belonged to and then I realized it was Seraphina. I smiled.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” She wandered over.
I exhaled. “Getting some air.” I draped an arm around her shoulder. “How are you doing?”
She shrugged. “Funerals suck. Daddy’s seems to really suck.” Her hand rested on her belly. My little sister was about to be a mom. That made me an unprepared uncle.
“I can’t imagine if he were here, he’d be happy about it. Where’s the champagne? Cigars? Expensive scotch?”
She laughed. “It does seem really cheap, doesn’t it?”
“I’m glad I’m not the one who planned it.” Although, he wasn’t here to fire the staff. He wasn’t here to yell and boil over until he broke fine crystal. He wasn’t here to tell me I’d fucked it up.
“Paul was just trying to take care of things for Mom, but he’s used to taking instructions from Daddy.” Her eyes turned upward. “It’s nice out here. Those people,” she groaned.
“I know. How are you doing? Need a chair?” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. “Brandon won’t let me ride. He told the stables to stop saddling for me. It’s awful. You have no idea.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure the horses miss you too.”
“Maybe you could go with me? I’ll show you who I’ve added to the stables. I have an incredible stallion right now.”
It was hard to tell her no when she was this excited. “Yeah. Let’s go out there this week.”
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
“About what exactly? There’s a lot at stake right now.”
“The will,” she whispered it like it was a dirty word.
“Paul and I have a meeting tonight.”
“What happens to Paris?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Someone has to take over the vineyard operations.”
“Since when did you care about our vineyards in France?”
I saw the way she pinched her lips together. There was something she wanted to say. Something she wanted to ask. I knew my sister better than anyone.
“What is it?” I prodded.
“It’s just…” Her eyes darted to her belly. “Paris…if you need someone…”
The door to the funeral home flew open and a man in a brown suit hurried toward us. I groaned.
“Mr. Corban?”
“Yes?”
“I need your signature on a few items,” he explained.
