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When the minister enters, I reach for Alec’s hand and squeeze it as tightly as I can. His answering squeeze makes me feel grounded. The feeling is strengthened when Coen wraps his arm around my shoulder. Probably because he doesn’t want to take my injured hand. God, I shouldn’t have punched that mirror. Now that I’m no longer in the same headspace, I regret it, and not only because I will have to explain it to them. The only one not touching me is Kas, because he’s sitting with Lila. Technically, we’re all sitting together, but there’s a noticeable space between Lila and Alec, which makes sense.
Even if Lila was the one who came to the guys on Christmas morning, I don’t think Alec will ever be able to forgive her. My broody man feels everything tenfold, and the fact that she only spoke up at the end still counts as a betrayal in his book. I don’t blame him for that, and I will never try to change his mind. Neil stole from Alec and made him think his dreams were ripped away. That’s not something that can easily be forgotten.
“It’s starting,” Coen whispers, his warm breath tickling the shell of my ear.
Looking at him, I feel a pang of guilt for leaving him the way I did, and even though it’s not the time or place, I whisper, “I’m sorry for yesterday.” He squeezes my shoulder without answering me, which tells me more than anything that I’m going to pay for that later. And probably not in a way that will make me squirm and writhe with pleasure.
In my head, I curse myself out for thinking impure thoughts while the minister is reading out the script that encompasses Mark’s life. Seven pages, front and back, about the man I don’t know how to live without, and it doesn’t seem like enough. There are so many things people will never know, all because I couldn’t remember them. Like, how he always brought me chicken noodle soup when I was sick or that he didn’t even blink when I was on my period, and some of my blood leaked onto his pristine white couch.
“All those things are for your memories of him alone. He showed you a side of himself that he never shared with anyone else. Mia, you were Mark’s everything.”Lila said when I called her from the minister’s office, needing confirmation on what to include and what not to. I already knew not to share such private moments. I just wish people knew the magnitude of what it meant to really be loved by Mark.
“Mark Eugene Jones lived a full life. A life where he touched the hearts of everyone he met. Whether from work or privately, he had a genuine desire to help people. Almost ten years ago, his unofficial foster daughter, Mia, came to live with him. In the afternoon, she was a stranger, but Mark took her under his wing and gave her a place to live by nightfall. They worked together for as many years as they knew each other, and I think it’s safe to say that everyone that knew him also knew that Mia was his pride and joy. Many probably didn’t know that he tried to bribe her to stay when she had saved up enough money to move out. Not for her cooking skills, but because they were a team.”
Tears stream forcefully down my face like water escaping a clogged dam. Just as I’m about to reach for the tissue in my bag, Alec hands me one.
“When Mia picked the place she wanted to buy, Mark was with her every step of the way. He helped her pick out furniture, decorators, and he even had a friend help her organize her investments. In short, Mark did everything for his foster daughter. He even gave up true love for her, though that’s not how Mark saw it. Friends of his have told me that nothing was a sacrifice when it came to the apple of his eye.”
Before I can ask for more tissues, Alec has them ready and hands them to me. True to the brand’s advertisement I’m wearing, my makeup doesn’t wash off. I dab under my eyes and blow my nose again before I’m able to pay attention to the minister’s words.
“As with any family dynamic, Mark and Mia had their difficulties.”
Even though the minister’s part of the eulogy has nothing to do with the night I went back to Serendipity, the memory forces itself to the forefront of my mind. Mark’s anger and despair were palpable in the very air we were both breathing. A guttural sob is wrenched from my throat before I can stop it, and my entire body is trembling with pent-up emotions.
“… Once, the two of them didn’t speak for an entire week because Mark had turned all of Mia’s white clothes blue with a stray sock in the washing machine. There was also a time when he accidentally gave her a black eye at the gym because she didn’t duck quick enough during their sparring.”
The minister pauses briefly, and the half sobs, half laughter that rings through the church makes me smile. That black eye incident was too much fun, and I milked it for all it was worth.
“Mark’s job—or his mistress, as Mia called it—was a big part of who he was as a person. As the head of security, he was in charge of everyone else’s welfare, and he never failed to put them first. To Mark, every person in his care was as important as the next, and he would lay down his life for each one of them—as we’re sure they would for him.”
Even though the last part is improvised, it still fits, and there are a lot of whispered agreements. After that, the minister talks about Mark’s love of the movie printed on the program, and then he invites everyone to stand while Mark is being played out and attend the wake after that. Since the wake couldn’t be at Serendipity or Mark’s apartment, I rented one of the rooms in one of Mark’s favorite restaurants, ‘Steaks R Us,’ a steakhouse he swore had the best meat in the country. Even though they don’t usually cater to events such as this, they were happy to make an exception for their favorite—and biggest—customer.
The song starts to play, and the six chosen pallbearers lift Mark’s coffin and walk him outside to the waiting car. We all follow the vehicle, driving as slow as possible, leading the way to Mark’s ultimate resting place, where we watch the coffin being placed in the grave. Then, one by one, we step forward and take a pink Camellia flower from the bouquet I had ordered specifically for this and drop it on top of the coffin.
As I watch the others, I try to listen to their last goodbye, but most of them are too hushed. Except for Lila, who says, “Mark, I’ll never forget your sacrifice. There have been years where I forgot your heart and friendship, something I’ll never be able to forget again. Rest in peace, Mark. I’ll help look after your daughter.” Then she lets go of the delicate flower.
Alec, Kas, and Coen walk with me when it’s my turn, each with a flower in their hand. Coen and Kas just mumble general words, and even though I want to watch them, I can’t tear my gaze away from Alec’s hand. He is holding the flower so tight the stem is bending, and there’s anguish written all over his handsome face.
“I don’t know what to say, Mark. I’m sorry I failed you and that I failed the trust you placed in me.” Alec clears his throat, and when I try to take his hand, he moves it away from me. “I had one job to do, to keep her safe—and I didn’t. I couldn’t. Now, because of mine and my brothers’ idiocy, you paid the ultimate price, and I’ll always be sorry.”
Alec’s head is bent, but I’m pretty sure I see one or two tears glistening on his cheek, and when I take his hand and his eyes finally meet mine, I see the red rims around his pupils. “Stay, please,” I whisper. “Mark, dad… I never called you that to your face, but I hope you know that’s how I felt in my heart. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on without you, but you need to know Alec will be a big part of it. He never failed you. He looked after me, and because of you, I found love. Something I never thought was in the cards for me.” I want to say more, but my voice is almost gone by now. Stolen by the lump of hurt in my throat. I let go of my flower and turn to Alec.
Both of our faces are wet, and even though it probably shouldn’t, it shakes me to see him like this.
“Alec I…” I stop talking, unsure of how to say what I should have told him two weeks ago.
Maybe I’m excused from not saying it straight away. Perhaps I could even argue my case for why I didn’t tell him right until we heard the will. Every day since then has been nothing but my selfishness, and I’m not above admitting that. Because as soon as I tell him, they’ll know who I keep calling—and I’m not sure I’m ready to lose that just yet.
My voice is barely a whisper as I say, “You need to call this number.” Rummaging around in my bag, I finally find the crumpled piece of paper. “I should have given it to you sooner, but I couldn’t. I know it was wrong of me to hold on to it, to rob you of your closure.”
Alec eyes the note as if it’s an atomic bomb I’m trying to hand him. “What is it?”
“It’s… It’s to you from Mark. He gave it to me a few days after I went back to Serendipity, and he made me promise I would give it to you if anything happened to him.” When Alec still doesn’t take the paper from my outstretched hand, I snap, “You need to take it, it was meant for you. I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to pass it on, but trust me, you need to call that number.”
I arrive at the wake with Alec, Kas, Coen, and Lila in tow. We really are an odd group. The only one who seems to more than tolerate Lila’s presence is Kas, but even he is hesitant. Not that I can blame him after the mind games she played with him. She’s lucky that he’s willing to be around her.
When Coen opens the doors to the venue and ushers us inside, I hang back. “Aren’t you coming, sweets?” Kas asks.
Deliberately not looking at Alec, I say, “I’ll meet you inside, I just need to call someone first.” It won’t take him long to realize what I’m doing once he calls the unique number, and I need to get my fix before it’s taken away from me.
