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Her eyes grew glassy before she nodded and rubbed her thumb over the soft flesh of his hand. “I have no plans for being a mother. I’ve never had the desire to have kids—at least, not anytime soon. I’m more auntie material, not mother.” She blinked and looked away.
Fuck, he wanted to pull her into his arms and assure her everything would be okay. Instead, he’d caused her pain, and put her in a position to have to possibly make one of the toughest choices.
I’m a fucking asshole.
The door opened and he yanked his hand away. The hurt in her eyes was a spear through his gut.
“Ahh, there you are,” the familiar voice of his auntie Yaa greeted.
He stood and turned to give her a hug, but she veered over to Emma first.
“How are you doing?” his auntie asked as she pulled him into a hug next. “Both of you look too thin. My brother would not want his children this sad. He’s in a better place.” She took the empty chair to his right as the door opened again.
“Thank you all for waiting. I had to get the original paperwork from the safe,” Mike Driscoll said as he settled into his desk, spreading open a binder. After flipping through a few pages, he stopped, clasping his hands in front of him and glancing between his three guests. “First of all, I want to extend my condolences for Solomon’s passing. He was quite an amazing man. A true loss to this town.”
“Thank you,” Aunt Yaa said.
Emma looked on numbly, not responding in any way.
Link nodded.
“Okay, did Solomon ever tell you what his final wishes were?”
“He wanted to be cremated. I know that much,” Link supplied.
“Yes, he did. But as far as his remains are concerned, he left specific directions for his two children as to what he wants done with his ashes.” Mike turned the page and pointed to the print.
“He said he’d spent his life living by one seacoast and he always wanted to see the other. He’s left instructions, including a map, for you to both take the Chevelle and drive to California to lay his ashes to rest in the Pacific Ocean.”
Huh? Panic seized Link. A road trip alone with Emma? “No.” Absolutely not. That’s a bad idea. We can do it separately. Why would he suggest that?
“Mr. Owusu was very specific. He said if his wishes were not fulfilled, all his estate, including what your aunt Yaa will inherit, is to be forfeited to the charities he’s chosen. That includes the garage,” Mike said.
Shit, I said that out loud? He turned towards Emma.
Her lips were flat on her otherwise blank face, but her eyes burned with anger. “I can do it. I’ll have to talk to my manager and the band, to schedule some time off, so we can’t do it right away, but I can make it happen.”
Of course, she could. Because obviously being close to him wasn’t as hard on her as it was on him.
Anger boiled, rage clawing at the edges of his sanity.
His father was dead. Gone so suddenly, just like his mother. And somehow the man was still pulling his strings from the grave. Link shook his head. His dad never had liked to give up control. Why would Link assume differently in his death? He loved his dad, but damn, he didn’t like him very much right now. Shame and guilt crashed over him at the thought.
He’s gone and I took him for granted all those years.
Link shook his head, emotion choking him. “I can’t do this.”
Emma gasped, turning her pain-filled gaze to his.
Link shot to his feet, ignoring his aunt’s calls as he left the office.
Cold air nipped his face as he climbed into his car. As he turned on the ignition, the classic car roared to life. He sighed, raking his hands over his face. Everything was so fucked up. Emotions swirled inside him like a tornado, whipping him into dizzying circles until he didn’t know which way was up or down, east or west. What he did know was anger.
“Fuck this.” He shifted into gear.
He needed to get his hands dirty and his mind busy. Pushing on the gas, he pulled out onto the street and headed towards the garage. At least there he felt at peace. It was his. For now.
* * *
