Bonus Kisses - Freya Barker Page 0,17

to me. “Get Chantal.”

I don’t argue, and rush upstairs to knock on her door. I don’t wait around and hurry back downstairs to find Taz sitting on the edge of the bed. She has Nicky’s hand clasped against her chest and her lips pressed to her sister’s forehead.

“Nicky,” Chantal’s voice sounds behind me and I step out of her line of sight. “Do you want me to sedate you?”

“Yes.” Her voice is surprisingly strong, even as her panicked eyes find mine. “I’m sorry,” she mouths, reaching out her free hand and I grab on.

“No more apologies.” My voice sounds raw, which is pretty much how I feel.

Nicky looks from me to her sister and back again. “The kids…”

“I promise they will always carry you with them.”

She briefly closes her eyes when Chantal administers the medication, only to open them wide searching for ours.

“Don’t leave me alone.”

“We’ll be right by your side,” Taz says firmly when I lose the ability to speak.

Holding each of our hands in hers, Nicky’s eyes drift shut as the midazolam takes effect. I glance at the display on the TV receiver and note the time: three forty-seven.

Chantal disappears into the kitchen and within minutes I detect the smell of fresh coffee. Then I hear her footsteps going upstairs, a soft knock on the bedroom door, and the sound of muted voices as she wakes Nicky’s parents.

Taz and I hold quiet vigil, feeling her hands go slack in ours.

At seven twenty-five, with her kids still asleep in their bedrooms upstairs, Nicky releases her last breath.

We never let go.

Chapter Seven

Rafe

“She wouldn’t want that.”

My head snaps up when I hear Taz voice what I am thinking.

The past twenty-four hours or so, things have been surprisingly calm. No conflicts at all, only a sad and subdued atmosphere while we all seemed focused on supporting the kids.

Sofie and Spencer are with Kathleen, who offered to look after them while the rest of us are at the funeral home to make arrangements.

I look at the ostentatious, heavy oak casket lined in pink satin Sarah wants for her daughter.

“How could you possibly know what your sister would want?” she snaps. “You’ve hardly been around enough. Suddenly you’re an expert?”

I can almost visualize the punches landing by the way Taz flinches at her mother’s words. Still, she seems to steel herself and responds calmly.

“Not an expert, but Nicky brought up the subject of her funeral last week. She was clear about what was important to her. No visitation or viewing, and a biodegradable casket. She wanted us to remember her spirit instead of cry over the body she left behind. Her words, not mine,” Taz quickly adds.

“I was part of that conversation,” I interject, before Sarah has a chance to throw another barb. “She said since a funeral is for loved ones, we could make that into whatever we wanted, but that she should be able to decide what happened to her body.”

“But it’s pretty. My daughter deserves something pretty.”

I lower my eyes at Sarah’s plea and the depth of pain on her face.

“Sarah…” Ed, who’s been very quiet, lays a shaking hand on his wife’s arm. “Veronica deserves to have her wishes honored. She deserves us remembering her beautiful spirit, so let’s focus on that.”

The rest of the meeting, I’m happy to let Sarah take the lead. I lean against the doorjamb as the funeral director goes over the rest of the details with her.

I’m not religious, but on the rare occasion my wife wanted to take the kids to church, I went with them. I understand having a service for Nicky is important to her parents, and maybe to the kids as well, so I don’t voice any objections.

“Are you okay with all this?” Taz whispers behind me. She’d opted to stay outside in the hallway, probably not wanting to risk another possible scene.

I turn my head to the side and whisper back, “Yeah. They need this.”

“I guess. Okay, well, unless you need me to jump in the fray for you, I’ll be outside. I can’t breathe in here.”

I immediately feel the loss of her heat behind me, but resist turning around to watch her disappear down the hallway.

“Ready to go?”

Taz is leaning against my truck when her parents and I walk out of the funeral home forty minutes later.

“Did you get it worked out?” she asks, looking at her mother.

“Friday. I need to find her something to wear and drop it off tomorrow.” Sarah seems a little at a loss.

“Can I