and my mother together, though she’d taken a selfie here or there or asked a stranger to take one of us. Surprisingly, there weren’t any of her many boyfriends over the years before she’d met Vincent. She must have disposed of those at some point.
A folded-up piece of newspaper slipped out between two photos, and I opened it, surprised to discover my mother’s obituary. It included a picture of her looking more glamorous than usual, and I was fairly certain it was taken as part of her engagement shoot.
The text was rather short and sweet, and when I re-read it for the second time, I got hung up on the words “car accident.” That was the explanation Vincent had given me at the time, but he’d never provided more details. And I’d never asked for them. Probably because I had been ten and suddenly alone in the world and not really thinking about the particulars.
But, now, I was curious. If the man in Vincent’s study the day of the funeral had made it look like an accident, what was it that he had done? And, more importantly, how had she actually died?
I couldn’t easily get an answer to the second question, but there was one person who should know about the first.
After returning the now-organized stacks of photos to the box, I checked the time. Though it was a little earlier than I usually went downstairs to help Susan with dinner, I decided to go to the kitchen to wait for her.
I worked on an assignment for Western Civ at the bar for about twenty minutes before she appeared, cheeks rosy and white hair mussed. “Thea, what are you doing in here already?”
“Just a little homework while I waited.” I closed the notebook I’d been jotting notes in. “I was wanting to ask you something.”
“Of course.” She hung up her oversized purse in the pantry and pulled on her apron. “Anything.”
“It’s about my mom...the day she died.” I played with the spiral binding on my notebook, suddenly feeling awkward. Probably because I should have asked these questions years ago. “I was wondering if you knew what happened to her? I just know that it was a car accident.”
Susan’s smile dropped, though her face remained soft. “Oh, honey. I don’t know much, but I can tell you what I remember.” She leaned against the counter, her gaze lifting to somewhere over my head. “Amber had gone into Seattle for her final wedding dress fitting. She’d parked on a side street that was on a pretty steep incline. After her appointment, she got back into her car, and somehow, the brakes failed. The car picked up speed, hit a parked car, and then crashed into a tree. I believe it was that last impact that was responsible for...”
I nodded, getting the picture.
It certainly sounded like an accident, so I could understand why her cause of death wouldn’t have been questioned. Were the brakes tampered with? Or had it been something else altogether that killed her?
Susan’s explanation didn’t tell me anything that helped me figure out who was behind the non-accident, but I was still glad I’d asked. “Thank you.”
She reached across the counter and patted my hand. “Anytime, honey.” Seeming to understand that I was done with this topic, she moved about the kitchen, gathering ingredients and pots and pans. “We’re having three cheese manicotti this evening. How does that sound?”
I stood and opened one of the cabinets to retrieve the food processor for grating cheese without having to be asked. “Delicious, as always.”
And, with that, I let all of the memories and thoughts about my mother go for now. My world might not be saturated in the most beautiful colors, but it wasn’t gray anymore. And I didn’t want to miss even more of it by living only in the past.
Chapter Thirty
Thea
“Why is it, when everyone else wanted Halloween off, you offered to work a double shift?”
Levi asked the question as he appeared to be grinding coffee beans but was actually paying attention to me. Amazingly, the fox ears he wore seemed to add to his attractiveness rather than detracting from it. I wasn’t sure that the same could be said for my hot pink cat ears.
“I have no desire to be dragged to a bunch of sorority and fraternity parties, which will inevitably lead to seeing way too many boobs.”
He coughed out a laugh. “Dare I ask why?”
I gave him my best “you’re being intentionally obtuse” look. “Because the majority