Until Harry - L.A. Casey Page 0,42

and a beautiful picture of my uncle smiling happily.

I took my seat on the bench at the front of the church and nestled next to my father, then scooted down when Kale sat next to me, put his arm around my shoulder and tucked my body against his. I heard loud murmurs and movement as the priest prepared for the service. Glancing over Kale’s shoulder, I saw a sea of people. I wasn’t surprised to find the church so full. My Uncle Harry had been one of a kind, and the hundreds of people who came to see him off were just a testament of how truly incredible he was.

I was so thankful for Kale. He didn’t have to give me the time of day, yet he sat beside me and held my hand through the entire mass. He hugged me to him when both of my brothers read out their prayers, and rocked me as I cried during my father’s eulogy. It made people laugh to hear of the crazy side to my uncle, but it mostly made people cry, knowing they had lost such a character from the town.

While the priest was reading one of the final prayers, my mind drifted to my last Skype conversation with my uncle, and it brought me both comfort and heartache.

“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” I said to my uncle when his face filled my laptop screen.

My uncle snorted. “Hello to you too, darling.”

I grinned and adjusted my headphones so I could hear him clearly. “Sorry – hi, how are you?”

“Great now that we’re chatting.” He winked, then waved his hand. “Go on: tell me about the day you’ve had that I won’t believe.”

“Smartarse,” I chided, making him laugh. “Okay,” I began, “so you know how I’ve been editing a horror series for K.T. Boone?”

“The one where the little girl is really the killer?” my uncle asked warily.

Reading that series scared him.

“Yes,” I said, nodding.

“What about it?” he asked.

I had to contain my squeal because even though I was tucked away in the back of my local Starbucks, I would still draw attention to myself.

“The latest book in the series hit the New York Times list at number one!” I gushed. “Uncle Harry, something I edited, and helped shape, is a best bloody seller!”

My uncle cheered and clapped his hands together. “I knew it! I knew you’d do brilliantly. I’m so proud of you.”

For once, I felt something that resembled happiness.

“Thank you,” I said. “I can’t believe it. My name is associated with it, and because of that I’ve gotten three emails from different publishers – big publishers might I add – looking to hire me to work with some of their clients. Can you believe that?”

“Darling,” my uncle said with a beaming smile, “I’m not one bit surprised.”

I chuckled. “You knew this would happen, then?”

“I knew you’d be very successful at what you do, so yes, I did know. You’re rocking that city.”

I laughed. “I’m over the moon. Finally, something good has happened to me.”

“Will you still freelance?” my uncle questioned.

“Of course,” I said, nodding enthusiastically. “Indie authors are superstars, and it’s because of one of them that I’m getting job offers like this in the first place.”

“Good on you, darling. I’m so proud of you, and your parents will be delighted with the news.”

I slumped a little. “Do you think so?”

“Lane, of course. They’re so proud of all the books and articles you’ve edited. I told you that your father and I read everything you work on.”

That touched my heart in a way that I couldn’t describe.

“I can imagine you both huddled around the kitchen table discussing the books,” I said, laughing.

“We have to sit in the sitting room; your nanny and her friends knit at the table now.”

That caused me to laugh harder.

“You should call your brothers and give them the great news.”

“I don’t think so,” I grumbled. “I called on their birthday, and when I told Lochlan to stop asking me to come home, he told me never to call him again. I’m just abiding by his wishes.”

My uncle shook his head. “You’re every bit of your brothers: stubborn beyond compare.”

I grinned. “Like you aren’t stubborn?”

“I am,” he agreed. “I’m just not as bad as you and your brothers.”

I groaned. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“I’m not arguing. I’m just mentioning something that you don’t like hearing.”

I rolled my eyes. “What did you do today?”

He thought on it, then said, “I went up to