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John did have a heart condition, but he had been stable, on medicine for his high blood pressure. He was in great shape, and it was time to celebrate the success of the IPO. But none of that matters because the fact is, he died.
Everyone is sorry. Now he’s just a memory.
Today, I’ll likely be relegated to sitting in the second row of folding chairs at the service, I imagine, like a second cousin or a crazy aunt. But this will be the last time Tish hijacks my family’s spotlight. That’s a promise.
I pull on my black dress, add a strand of pearls, and slip on my sensible heeled black pumps. It really doesn’t matter what I wear, I know.
This service is simply something to endure.
I’m surprised when the doorbell rings. Time seems to be slipping, speeding up, and then slowing down to a crawl ever since we received the news of John’s death. Days pass slowly, but this, just now, the time between Bob’s call and his arrival, seems to have happened in a blink of an eye.
As I hurry downstairs, I realize I’m grateful for the company, grateful for a friendly, familiar face who is on my side. I open the front door and a wave of summer air rushes in. Even this early in the morning, it’s already a hot one.
Bob’s salt-and-pepper hair is thinning but still covers his head, and his forehead is lined with experience, deepened with sorrow. I know he’s going to offer the usual sympathy line, so I speak first.
“Thanks so much for driving me. I really wasn’t up for going alone,” I say, stepping out into the surprisingly warm and sunny summer day. Aren’t all funerals supposed to take place on overcast winter days? There should be a rule about that.
Bob opens the passenger door for me, a black sedan that seems fitting transportation to a funeral. He slides into the driver’s seat and doesn’t say a word. I’ve found Bob to be a remarkably neutral business adviser. When John and I had disagreements, Bob would not take sides. Instead he would carefully weigh both points of view. I value his counsel.
I take a breath. I have told myself this will be the last time I have to see Tish, ever. After this, she’ll return to wherever in the swampy south she appeared from, taking a large chunk of our fortune with her.
“How’s Ashlyn?” Bob asks as we pull into the parking lot of the cemetery.
I’ve only been here once. It was when John and I picked out our burial sites. He thought it was practical not to saddle Ashlyn with any decisions should something happen to both of us. Like a plane crash on a business trip, he’d explained. I think, maybe, it had been Bob’s idea. Something with the estate, but I don’t know now. All I remember isthe way it made me feel to be here, contemplating death in the middle of life, cementing us as a team for eternity, or so I thought. And now, we’ll be using John’s half of our crypt.
“Ashlyn came ahead. She’ll be here.” I answer logistics because I don’t know how she is, not really. “Bob, was it your idea for John and me to secure a burial place next to his parents? Are you the reason we reserved spots in the mausoleum?”
“Yes, they were going fast, and it’s the best mausoleum in the city, but god knows I never imagined him needing to use it so soon. It’s tragic. At the height of his success, this happens. Had he been having heart issues?” Bob asks the twenty-million-dollar question.
“You knew about his high blood pressure, but he was on meds, so it seemed under control. You’d need to ask his wife, I suppose.” John never discussed his high blood pressure, never wanted anyone to know about it, likely not even Tish. He wanted to seem to be her age, not ours.
I clear my throat. “As you know, the last few months were very stressful, with the IPO. I think the stress, combined with the altitude in Telluride, was hard on his heart.”
Bob shakes his head as he pulls into a parking space. “He never should have done it.”
“The IPO?” I ask.
Bob pats my hand. “Married that woman. Such a fool. I told him he had it all.”
It wasn’t enough, though. I’m not sure what to say, so I just smile at Bob.
“Ready?” Bob asks. “Let’s get this over with. None of it is how John imagined it would be, I can tell you that much.”
That much is entirely true.
Bob slips out of the car and opens my door, helping me out. I notice the parking lot is quite full, but I don’t know if these are regulars visiting grave sites of loved ones or people here for John. I realize I don’t know who was invited to the funeral. My parents wouldn’t have comeif they’d been invited, and all of John’s family members are deceased. They’re all here.
The cemetery has a parklike feel, if you don’t focus on what’s beneath. Mature trees, rolling green lawn, the oldest in the city. And the mausoleum where we purchased our his-and-her drawers are the most “requested” and “desired” in town, at least that’s what the man told us when we reserved our slots. John’s own parents have a similar setup. John and I had an awkward laugh about it afterward, the afterlife next to my in-laws. A girl’s dream.
Bob is beside me, and while I’m grateful for his support, I’d like to step inside alone. Unsupported. Since John left three years ago, I’ve learned how to stand on my own. He forced the lesson. And I’m a quick study. I’ve practiced my eulogy speech in front of my bathroom mirror. It’s short, sweet, and thankful: a reminder to everyone in attendance that EventCo is fine, even if our cofounder perished. Ourbelovedcofounder perished. I scratched both out. I’ll say, “EventCo is in my capable hands, even as we mourn John’s loss.”
“I’m ready,” I say.
CHAPTER 28
ASHLYN
On my drive to the cemetery, to take my mind off where I’m going, I call dentist Ron Pleasant’s office. Dentist Pleasant has a nice ring to it. I’m surprised when his answering service puts me right through to him on a Sunday. It’s not really an emergency.
