The Summer of Sunshine and Margot - Susan Mallery Page 0,112
leaned against him.
“What’s up, buddy?” he asked, putting his arm around his son. “Feeling let down because you had the big party last weekend?”
“No.” Connor pushed up his glasses and looked at him. “I want to go see Mom.”
Declan immediately shut down his computer, then stood and held out his hand. “Sure thing. Let me grab my car keys and we’ll head out.”
The first few weeks after Iris’s death, they’d visited the grave site every Sunday morning. After that, Declan had let Connor tell him when he felt the need. This would be the first visit since Sunshine had started working for them.
Forest Lawn–Hollywood Hills was a sprawling place with manicured grounds and lots of trees. Declan was more a “be cremated and scatter the ashes” kind of guy, but this was what Iris had wanted. She’d left detailed instructions and had, in fact, chosen her plot before she died.
Declan stopped at a florist and let Connor pick out the bouquet of flowers he liked, then they went into the cemetery and parked.
Together they walked along the path before making their way to Iris’s small headstone. Connor put the flowers at the base of the stone before dropping cross-legged to the grass.
“Hi, Mom,” he began. “It was my birthday last week. I’m nine. I had a party and it was really fun. Did I tell you I got an ant farm? It’s really cool and Sunshine ordered me a second one that’s even bigger and it should be here this week.”
Declan realized this was going to be a lengthy visit. Sometimes Connor wanted to talk and sometimes he just wanted to drop off flowers. He settled at the base of a nearby tree, prepared to wait for however long it took.
“Sunshine’s my nanny,” Connor continued, plucking at a blade of grass. “She’s really nice. She knows how to cook and make stuff for a party and we laugh a lot. I want her to stay forever. You’d like her.”
Declan didn’t react outwardly to his son’s comment, but he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was Connor getting too close to Sunshine? Not that there was a way to keep them apart. Her entire job revolved around Connor. It made sense that they would be tight.
Life was never easy, he thought. Or straightforward. He glanced at the gravestone. When Iris had died, he’d been so angry. Furious about the affair, devastated she’d chosen someone else over him, enraged that she’d waited to tell him she was sick and beyond pissed that she’d gone and died. He’d had so much emotion and nowhere to put it. But the cliché was true and time did heal.
Looking back he could see that neither of them had been happy in the marriage for a long time. While her way of dealing or not dealing with the problems hadn’t been good for either of them, he wasn’t angry about it anymore. He could see now that they’d drifted apart and at some point getting back together would have required more than either of them had been willing to put into the marriage.
He saw now that, rather than confront her or do something about her affair, he’d chosen to simply let things drift. Not exactly healthy for either of them. He should have insisted she move on while he stayed and got custody of Connor. He should have divorced her. Except...
He listened as his son talked about school and his friends and learning to play baseball this summer. Except a divorce would have been hard on Connor. His life would have been shattered and then a few months later, Iris still would have had cancer and she still would have died. The irony didn’t escape him. His inability to accept what Iris had done had trapped him in indecision. While it had been a crappy move for him, it had been the best thing for Connor.
“I miss you, Mom.” Connor said, coming to his feet. He turned to Declan. “I’m ready to go, Dad.”
“Okay.” Declan stood. He looked at the headstone. After a second, he walked over and lightly touched it. “Goodbye, Iris.”
He took Connor’s hand and together they walked away.
* * *
“I’ll have the chicken nachos, please,” Margot said, passing the menu to the server. She probably should have ordered a salad, but it seemed like a nacho kind of evening.
“Make that a double order.” Sunshine watched until the server left, then pointed her finger at Margot. “Okay, start talking. What’s up?”