At himself.
He had known something was wrong with his husband. He’d seen the dark circles and the lethargy. But he had allowed Denni to talk him out of the idea that the problems were serious.
Calder curled his hands. Perhaps if they had addressed it earlier, Denni would still be with them. Maybe the chemo would have worked. Doctors couldn’t say for sure, so he would never know.
And it didn’t matter anyway. Because Denni was gone.
The rain fell in rivulets.
Six months ago, Calder had everything. Now he had nothing. Well, not nothing. He had two sons to raise. He was living for them.
And he had Felton’s Bakery, Denni’s dream to keep alive. Even if the thought of making the business a success without him seemed impossible.
“Papa, do you think Daddy’s gonna be okay down in the ground?” Ked asked, his lip quivering.
“He’s not in the ground,” Jordie said, stiffening his spine as much as his eight-year-old body would allow. “Teacher said he’s in the stars now.”
Calder knelt in front of them while the rest of the crowd headed inside for the reception. Water dripped down his forehead as he placed his hands over their chests. “Daddy’s going to be right here, in your hearts. He’ll be safe there, because we’ll always remember him.”
The boys shivered as water soaked their coats. Jordie nodded shakily at Calder, but Ked’s tears boiled over. “I don’t want Daddy in the ground!” he wailed. “I want him with us!”
Calder gathered their tiny bodies in his arms. “I know you do. Both of you. This is all terribly unfair. And I’m not going to tell you to be brave. Or try to convince you it’s alright. It’s not. But you have me, and I promise I’m going to be the best papa I canbe. We’re still a family. And hopefully, in your hearts, the stars, or wherever he is, Daddy will be proud of us.”
Jordie and Ked buried their noses in his collar. Calder lifted them and carried them into the reception.
His neighbors swooped in to help with the kids, giving them cookies and leading them into a small room behind the main hall where several other boys were watching a movie.
Calder was grateful for the presence of his friends, including all the employees and many customers from Felton’s, but he felt unmoored by the lack of family in his sons’ lives.
Denni’s parents had been devastated by his passing, but they were too fragile to travel for the funeral. They had only met the boys once, when they visited just after Ked’s birth. Although they had promised to call as often as possible, Calder doubted they’d be part of their grandsons’ lives in any meaningful way. His own fathers were gone, and he wasn’t close with his two siblings.
We didn’t have enough time! He mentally cried out at Denni.All I can think about is how sad I am. How am I supposed to do this without you?
Inhaling, he steeled himself. He would have to figure it out.
Channeling his anger into action, he vowed to be an awesome father to his sons. And he would make Felton’s successful.
Calder couldn’t imagine having the same vividness to his days now that Denni was gone—clearly, his best years were behind him—but he could still carve out whatever life was available. His existence would be muted, but he could survive with less color.
He would have welcomed more black at the funeral, honestly.
Lolo, a beta who worked at Felton’s, came over to check on him.
“Denni was a good man,” he said. “I won’t offer you platitudes, but I want to say sincerely that he will be missed.”
“Thank you.”
Lolo squeezed his shoulder. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but you will get past this grief. Denni told me more than once that he wanted that for you, wanted you to be happy after he was gone.”
Calder whipped his head around. “He said that?”
“Mm-hmm. I hope I’m not overstepping by telling you.”
“No, you’re okay. He told me the same thing.”
“It’s fine to wallow in this sadness now. Any sane person would. When my daddy died last year, I thought I’d never recover. I know it’s not the same as losing your husband, but that feeling—the one where you can’t imagine finding joy again—I’m familiar with it.”
“That’s an accurate description.”