And we stay like that, me on Moses’s lap, his arms around me, until I fall asleep.
Thirty-Two
Magnolia
The morning of Bernie’s funeral dawns gray and cloudy, with a drizzle of rain that she probably requested specifically from the Big Man upstairs. Bernie would totally do that kind of thing. She was old school about mourning, and would definitely want us to be reminded that today is a solemn occasion, not one for celebration.
What surprises me more than anything is the four SUVs waiting at the curb when we go out, all dressed in black, to head to the graveside service.
Moses notices my hesitation. “Mount and I discussed security. There’s a damn good possibility Reyes knows about the funeral, and I’m not taking any chances with you. We came up with a plan that gets you there and back safely. If Reyes tries to come at us, we’ll take him down.”
My mind hasn’t been on Reyes or our less-than-ideal situation all week. In all honesty, nothing has been on my mind but the weight of my grief and regrets.
I’ve slept, cried, spent time with Keira and Rory, made love with Moses, played chess, and just tried to get through each day. I haven’t even talked to my girls—but Moses and the guys have handled everything, explaining the delay in their safe return, and promising to help them get back on their feet once everything dies down.
I’ve let every ball I’ve been juggling fall, but instead of shattering, Moses has been there to catch and handle even the biggest responsibilities. He’s an amazing man, and I don’t know what I’d do without him.
I think of the lie he didn’t want to admit to telling me. The lie our entire relationship was based on.I was right, I think. Because one lie that didn’t hurt anyone doesn’t matter when compared to hundreds of his actions, proving exactly who he is at the heart of it all.
And now, he and Mount have arranged everything so I can actually go to Bernie’s funeral without looking over my shoulder every five seconds for a man who wants me dead—when I didn’t think about making sure I stayed safe at all.
“Thank you,” I whisper to him as he helps me into one of the SUVs.
Jules and Trey are in the one behind us. Mount and Keira are in the one in front of us. I don’t know who is in the lead car, but it doesn’t matter. Myfamilyis coming along to stand by my side while I say good-bye to someone who mattered to me. It feels good knowing people care enough about me to do that.
All week, I’ve grappled with the fact that I’m never going to hear Bernie say those words I wanted to hear, and I think I’m starting to finally make my peace with it. But, God, it’s hard to let go of something you needed from someone you’ll never see again.
I take a slow breath, careful not to let the tears start rolling again. I haven’t cried as much in my entire life as I have this week. I guess I’ve never had the luxury. But grief is ruthless and sneaks up when I least expect it, taking me by surprise in vicious waves. My only hope for today is to get through this and give Bernie a proper good-bye.
Thirty minutes later, the vehicle slows to a halt behind the one in front of us, and the driver shifts into park.
“Whenever you’re ready, mama. We’ve got a few minutes before we need to get out.”
I peer out the window at the marble buildings of the funeral home and cemetery, and take a deep breath.I can do this.“I’m ready. Let’s not keep Bernie waiting. She hated that.”
Moses gives me a sympathetic smile and opens the door. He climbs out, then offers me his arm. With my head held high, we march toward the entrance together.
Keira and Mount are ahead of us, waiting near the door, flanked by four men in suits who I’ve never seen before. Trey and Jules come up behind us, and the six of us walk inside to meet Norma and her nephew.
As soon as I’ve said my hello to him and thanked him for helping his aunt earlier this week, Norma holds out her arms, and the tears I’ve been holding at bay scald my raw eyes.
“Oh, child. So good to see you,” she whispers as she wraps her wiry arms around me. “You don’t need to weep for ol’ Bernie. She wouldn’t want your tears. You know better than that.”
I snuffle them back because Norma is undoubtedly right. “I can’t seem to stop them lately,” I say, shaking my head as I dab at the corners of my eyes with a tissue.
Norma clasps my shoulders with her palms. “Because you’re a good woman, Magnolia Marie. Anytime you need a reminder of that, you just call Norma. I may not be good for much else at this age, but at least I’m good for that.”
I throw my arms around her and squeeze her tight. “Thank you so much for everything you did for her. You were truly the only person she liked.”
Norma’s laugh comes out like a cackle. “That’s where she had everyone fooled. Bernie cared too much about too many people. Left her feeling stripped bare after a spell, so she covered it all up best she could with a streak of contrariness.”
I release her from the embrace and jerk my head back in shock. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
Norma smiles and reaches into her pocket. “This might help. The pastor found it in the book I gave him on the funeral service. Bernie must have stashed it in there.”
I study the envelope in her hand. My name is written in Bernie’s precise script. Part of me is terrified of what might be in it, but the other part is hoping against hope her words will give me comfort.
Norma must read the indecision on my face. “Read it when you’re ready. It’s not going anywhere.” Then her attention lifts above my head. “It’s good to see you too, sir.”