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“There’s one more thing,” he tells me just as I go to leave.
He gets up and walks into another office and then comes out with a leather box. My brows furrow as I look at it, until I see my father’s name embossed into the top of it.His fucking ashes.
“Yeah, I don’t want those,” I tell him. “Why don’t you keep them? Since you two were such close friends.”
He shakes his head. “He specifically requested they be given to you.”
“That’s great and all, but if I’m honest, I’m just going to throw them in the trash on my way out.” There’s no sugarcoating it. No playing nice.I don’t want them.
Lawrence shrugs. “If that’s your choice, then so be it.”
It’s obvious he’s not going to let me leave here without taking the damn box. But fine. If he’s okay with his best friend’s ashes ending up in a dump somewhere, I won’t ask any more questions. I grab the box with one hand and force a smile on my face.
“It’s good to see you turned out okay,” he says honestly.
I nod, mumbling a small thank you, but as I go to walk out the door, I stop. “Actually, can I ask you something?”
“Sure. What’s on your mind?”
“You said he wanted his ashes given to me, so he obviously knew he was dying,” I start.
He nods once. “He did. Yes.”
“So why tell us now?” I question. “Why wait six months after he died to even let us know that he’s gone? Why didn’t you get in touch when he was dying?”
The look on his face tells me he was expecting this, and his answer is simple. “Because he asked me not to. He knew he let you guys down by leaving and said you two didn’t owe him a thing. Not a goodbye. Not a funeral. And certainly not your forgiveness.”
His words hit a weak spot, but I force myself to numb it out. “Then why not right after?”
“Probate takes six months to a year in most cases,” he explains. “I didn’t think you deserved to have this hanging over your head for that long. This way, you can deal with it all at once. The grief won’t come back every time there’s an update on the status of his estate.”
I huff, a little amused by his words. “No offense, but there is no grief. I refuse to miss someone who never missed me enough to put down the fucking bottle.”
He nods in understanding but says nothing as I turn around and head for the door.
As soon as I get outside, I look for the nearest trash can. There’s one right at the corner of the building, where people must take their smoke breaks. I walk over to it, completely determined to put his ashes where the trash like him belongs. But as I open the box to pour it out, I stop.
Lawrence’s words play through my mind, making it so I can’t. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to throw them away.
Giving up, I close the box and go over to my truck. I climb in and place the checkandthe box on the passenger seat, staring at it for a minute before scoffing.
“Fuck you, old man.”
Worry buildsinside me as I check the clock for the fifth time in seven minutes. Last I heard from Hayes, he was on his way to the lawyer’s office. As much as he mayactlike he feels nothing from the news that his dad died, I don’t buy it. His dad wasn’t a good man by any means, but children are predisposed to love their parents. The mistakes he made and the trauma he caused don’t change the fifteen years that Hayes loved his dad.
I’m just afraid he’s going to break and I won’t be around to catch him when he does.
Another ten minutes pass before I give in and text Devin.
Hey, have you heard from your brother?
She doesn’t respond right away. I run my fingers through my hair and tug at the strands. I can’t sit still. I can’t think of anything but Hayes. Finally, as I start to pace my room, I feel my phone vibrate in my hand.
Not since he left this morning. Everything okay?
I’m not sure. He hasn’t answered me in a little while.
He’s probably just blowing off some steam. He’s a hothead. Give him time. I’m sure he’ll reach out.
