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A quick inhale. “I don’t believe it.”
“He did.”
Pain radiates from the hole in my chest through my shoulders, down my arms, up to my head. My best friend’s arms around my waist are the only thing holding me together.
“I’m sure there’s a reason. I know he wouldn’t…” Her voice trails off, and for a moment the only noise is my shaky breathing. Finally, she asks softly. “How’s your dad?”
Several steadying breaths later, I manage to answer. “He’s stable. His doctor is actually pretty amazing.”
“That’s good!” She gives me a squeeze, a little rock. “One mountain at a time.”
“What happened today at the clinic?”
“Hunter is doing amazing.” She gives me another rock. “I’m going to nominate you for therapist of the year for that one.”
“That’s not a thing.” I loosen out of her hold and roll to face her. The pain in my chest is relentless, but my brain can at least be distracted. “Why?”
“I mean, he’s still convinced Richard Nixon is coming to get him.”
“How is this progress?”
“Well, I was looking at your notes.” She’s lying on her back now. “You’re on the right track with helping him find ways to feel less like an outsider. He and old lady Green are getting to be friends.”
I sit up slowly. “What did he say?”
“He’s helping her with her yard ornament restorations.” She pushes up beside me. “You know she does it for pay, but she also does it guerilla style. She fixed my Dachshund, and I never even knew.”
Sniffing, I nod, inhaling deeply. “There’s some really nice people in this town.”
She smiles warmly… a smile I know I’ve used myself. “I think it’s the people who hurt the most who inflict the most pain.”
For a second, I think about what she’s saying. “That’s not bad, Rubes. Maybe you should do calendars.”
“Are you being shitty again?”
“No!” I start to laugh, and more tears come. “I’m serious. You say really nice things sometimes.”
“Sometimes.” She’s still being dismissive, and I curl into her.
Skinny arms go around me. It’s not Gray’s warm, muscular embrace, but you know what? It’s still pretty damn good.
Chapter 30
Gray
“She’s peaceful. That’s the best we can hope for at the end.” Sister Constance is beside me, watching Aunt Genevieve slip in and out of consciousness.
I give her a tight smile, as the old woman wavers between this life and whatever comes next.
My chest is still open and bleeding from the verbal laceration at Drew’s place. I left knowing every word Carl Harris said was true. Drew’s tears ringing in my ears were like salt in my wounds. I wanted to hold her, comfort her, but I knew her father was right. I would only bring her pain.
Midway into my drive to the garage, the phone rang. Sister Constance said I should come back to Dover as soon as possible. My aunt was dying. Her health had deteriorated to the point where she was having difficulty breathing, and the Alzheimer’s was complicating her symptoms. They didn’t know if she might have a moment of lucidity, and they weren’t sure if I might want to be here.
Considering all the people I’ve let down, I figured I should at least try and be here for my last remaining relative, my father’s youngest sister. My father, who had died long before I even knew his name.
Mack was his baby brother. Genevieve was his sister. All that’s left now is me.
“Your aunt left few personal possessions, but we kept everything in a safe deposit box. When you’re ready, I can take you to see it.”
