Bonus Kisses - Freya Barker Page 0,20

his tears.

“All right, kid. Let me get you guys to Kathleen, she can take you.”

It had actually been Mom’s idea to ask Kathleen to be here for the kids. She’s in the hallway, waiting.

The moment the door closes behind Rafe and the kids, Mom and Dad make their way over to the casket. I stay right where I am.

“Couldn’t you have suggested a dress?”

I squeeze my eyes shut at Mom’s sharp comment when she sees Nicky. It’s always been my mother’s way, to lash out when she hurts, but I know inside she’s torn up in pain. I ignore the comment, just as I ignore Dad’s soft admonishment.

I hear the door open at the same time Mom hisses, “She’s got sparkles all over herself, for cripes’ sake. She’d be mortified”

A large hand presses in the small of my back as Rafe guides me closer to the casket.

“Actually, she wouldn’t,” he jumps in. “That sweater was her favorite, and she’d happily be covered in glitter if it meant it would make her kids happy. She looks perfect.”

I lift my eyes and look at my sister. Except it’s not her anymore; only the shell where she used to live.

Dad kisses his fingertips and presses them over her heart. “See you soon, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

Mom reaches in and brushes a few sparkles off her cheek, before she turns to my father and buries her face in his chest.

Rafe stays where he is, but urges me to move closer. I straighten the two drawings the kids dropped in and take one last look at her before stepping back to let funeral home staff close the casket. When they start bolting down the lid, I instinctively lean into Rafe’s strength and his arm settles around my shoulders.

“Wait,” I call out as they start rolling her toward the door.

I hurry forward and bend down, pressing my lips against the cold wood covering her face.

“Bonus kiss,” I whisper.

Chapter Eight

Rafe

It’s been a long ten days.

Nicky’s absence had been glaringly obvious in the days following the funeral. Leading up to it, I’d had my hands full dealing with things, but the biggest challenge had been to try and get us into some semblance of a regular routine after.

I’d kept the kids home this past week so we could all catch our breath. I only took care of emergency calls and kept up with my farm visits, but I’d left the notice on the door for non-urgent care to contact Rick’s clinic in Winona.

Having Taz around has been a mixed bag. As valuable as it is to have her help look after the kids and the house, it’s also a challenge having her so close. In the last weeks of her life, Nicky had provided a natural boundary, but in the void she left behind; I find it more and more difficult to keep my distance.

It was almost a relief to drop the kids off at school for their first day back, and head straight to the clinic for my first scheduled appointment.

That relief is short-lived when I see my first appointment waiting in the reception area.

“Morning Mrs. Myers. Give me a chance to check in with Lisa and I’ll be right with you.” I indicate for my assistant to follow me to the back, out of earshot. “Please tell me she hasn’t been feeding her dog crap again. I don’t think I have the patience.”

Lisa snorts and shakes her head. “It’s better,” she says, grinning. “Apparently the new food has poor Charlton’s stomach upset. She says he’s gassy.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I hope to God we have a busy morning scheduled.”

“We do. A lot of folks have been waiting for you to get back, rather than driving to Winona. Mrs. Myers gets only ten minutes of your time.”

“Thank you. Give me five minutes to get caffeinated and then put her in exam one.”

“Coffee in the pot,” Lisa tosses over her shoulder, as she makes her way down the hall and I quickly duck into the small kitchen.

Fortified by Lisa’s potent brew, I find my way to exam room one.

“Dr. Thomas, I’m so very sorry for your loss,” Mrs. Myers blurts out before I even have a foot in the door. “You must be heartbroken. How are those precious little ones doing?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Myers. We’re coping. Now what brings you in today?” I quickly redirect the conversation.

For a brief time it works as she recounts in painstaking detail the workings of Charlton’s