widely, picking me up and placing me on the counter. “And we’re always going to be okay. No matter what life throws at us, we’re going to handle it. Together.”
Together.
* * *
After the funeral, I go home and cry. No one should have to attend two funerals in the same month. It’s just not fair, but I guess life never is. It’s hard to look at the bright side, or to be grateful that I’m still here, but I need to. I know Dad would want me to live my life, and Billie would too.
“The speech you made was beautiful,” Crow says as he sits down on my bed. “You’re a good friend.”
I feel like a virus that just keeps infecting people. “I don’t feel like a good friend,” I say into my pillow.
“Well, you are,” he says, rubbing my back. “I know you’re going through a really hard time right now, but you’re going to be okay. You will get through this. Tomorrow is a new day, and so is the day after that. You won’t have to relive this one.”
The thought that I don’t have to ever relive this day ever again is more comforting than I’d have known.
“I love you,” I say, once again muffled by the material.
He laughs softly and kisses the back of my head. “I love you too. I’m going to cook some dinner, and then the prez wants to see me, so I have to pop into the clubhouse.”
“Okay.”
Once I’m alone, I think about everything that has happened. I can’t just lie here waiting, hoping that this whole situation will go away. When is it going to be handled, and what does that even mean? What’s going to happen to them? I need to know.
I need closure.
And I’m not going to be able to let go until I get it.
* * *
The words “I need to speak to you” have me looking up into the eyes of none other than Jean.
“You have some fucking nerve showing up here,” I say, glancing around. Cam is in the garage, so if I call out to her she’ll get here quickly.
Jean holds her hands up. “It’s your safe space, so I thought you’d feel less threatened. I just want to have a chat and explain some things to you, and then I’ll leave.”
I eye her. I want to know what she has to say, but at the same time I know she doesn’t deserve the time of day.
Curiosity wins out. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I loved your father,” she admits, ducking her face. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but I did.”
I don’t think she knows what love is. I don’t want her to stop talking, though, so I cut off any harsh remarks and decide to press her further.
“How did you both meet?” I ask, hoping to finally get some answers.
“He came into my dance studio. He had a bucket list of things he wanted to try that he was going through, and a dance lesson was one of them,” she explains.
I remember his bucket list. He was slowly ticking off a list of things he had never done, trying to experience more to life than just the daily grind. I remember him telling me some of the things he wanted to try.
Indoor skydiving.
To drive a racecar.
To run a marathon.
A cooking class.
I remember thinking it was cute, and that he was trying to live his best life.
“And then what?” I press.
“And then we became friends, and then it turned to more. We went on dates.” She trails off, staring out the window. “He told me he had a daughter, one he loved very much and was proud of.”
She looks at me. “I didn’t hurt your father, and I want you to know that. I wouldn’t do anything to him. He meant the world to me.”
I can’t contain my tongue any further.
“You poisoned him,” I point out. “How is that not hurting him?”
“I didn’t poison him,” she vehemently denies.
“How do you know Jasper?” I ask, not believing a single word she said. I heard the conversation. Yes, she said it was Jasper that killed him, but she had involvement in it, too, and she can’t pretend that she didn’t.
I don’t know how much she thinks I know, but I need to use this opportunity to get some answers.
“Jasper was my first husband,” she admits, wrapping her arms around herself. “We’ve been divorced for several years now, and once I was out with Freddy