Chapter thirty-nine
Ben
“I’ll meet you there,” she says.
My grip tightens on her fingers. If I let her go, I might not see her again tonight. I’m not ready for that. “Are you sure? I don’t mind driving you.”
“No, I have my car,” she says firmly. “You go back to your family, and I’ll see you at your house in a bit.”
She sits back, releasing my hands.
“I’ll see you later,” she repeats, each syllable emphasized as you would speak to a child having a meltdown. “Okay.”
The word barely leaves my mouth. It catches somewhere in the back of my throat. Hell, I’m terrified of losing her. She turns and walks away, back toward Mikey’s grave. I watch her gather her things—the storybook, the hot drink flask, the folding chair—scooping them up before heading toward the parking lot where she disappears behind the trees.
By the time I follow, she’s already pulling out of the cemetery, her car disappearing through the gates. I hope I’ve done the right thing in inviting her tonight, but I didn’t want her to be alone.
Not today.
Not with everything hanging over her. Over us.
Bex’s headstone glints in the late afternoon sun as I climb into my own car. I sigh. The woman I lost before and the woman I’ve got now face the same danger. Ironic and painful considering my job. I can’t believe I might be standing on the same cliff edge twice.
***
Back at the house, I walk into chaos. Amy is clattering pans around the kitchen. Ivan attempts to keep control of her, but fails. One saucepan flies over the tiles, white sauce splashing up the cabinets.
“Amy,” Ivan mutters, voice low. “Slow down. Not everything needs to be done at a hundred miles per hour.”
“Sorry,” she shouts over her shoulder, grabbing another pan. Ivan grabs a cloth and drops to his knees to clean.
Savannah is arguing with Oliver about something in a video game. I didn’t even know she played them. The screen is paused, two action figures frozen in combat. Their voices rise an octave as they glare at one another, then turn the game back on.
Liam is sitting quietly in the corner with a book, legs curled beneath him, eyes narrowed. This day is like this every year. Everyone in their own space, coping however they can. Sometimes it’s easy to forget Liam is the only one who actually lost his mum. Her death hit all my kids hard, but I know Liam carries the weight of it differently.
“About time,” Amy says, without looking up. “I’m trying to keep all your feral children alive while you’re gallivanting around.”
I chuckle. “I was visiting your sister.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she says. “I’ve heard that excuse before. I bet you were at the pub.”
Ivan snorts. I honestly don’t know how he manages to live with her. Amy has always been the louder of the two sisters.
I walk over and slide an arm around her shoulders, pulling her briefly against me.
“And you’re doing a wonderful job, sis,” I say.
“She is,” Ivan agrees.
Amy rolls her eyes. “You never call me sis.”
“Right, what can I do to help?” I ask.
“We’re setting the table.” Ivan passes me a stack of plates.
“Dad!” Oliver shouts from the living room. “Savannah’s being annoying.”
Savannah doesn’t even glance away from the screen.