He laughed a rich, sexy deep laugh. “Well, you did a good job. He’ll be cleaning that up for days. Do I want to know what he did to deserve it?”
“How do you know it was a he?” I asked, pursing my lips together.
He cocked his eyebrow and gave me a lazy grin as an answer.
“Fine,” I lamented. “He’s a know-it-all lawyer who destroyed my flowers,”
“You could have just said lawyer.” Declan grinned.
“Hey, where are all your kids?” I asked suddenly, realizing how rare it was to have all of them in a room without a child present.
“With my mom,” Garrett answered not bothering to wait on anyone else as he dove into the bag of bagels and began tearing it apart.
“You left her with all of them?” I asked, feeling very bad for Mrs. Finnegan.
“She offered.” He shrugged, finishing off an entire bagel in a matter of seconds. I didn’t know whether to be amazed or horrified by Garrett’s ability to consume massive amounts of food.
“My dad will be over there helping, I’m sure,” Mia added.
I raised my eyebrow at that, but I quickly dismissed it. Whatever was or was not going on with Laura Finnegan and Derrick Emerson was none of my business.
I really wanted it to be though.
Soon, the house became quiet as plates piled high and orange juice and freshly brewed coffee from Phil’s were passed around. Everyone began filling up on bagels, croissants, and muffins. Once everyone’s bellies were full and breakfast was cleaned up, the house began to empty once more.
“Thanks for hosting all of us last night,” Mia said, giving me a hug. She was always the last to leave.
“Anytime, babe.” I smiled. “Bring my godson over soon. I need some snuggle time.”
“You got it.”
Garrett wrapped his arm around her waist, and I watched the two of them walk slowly to the car. Her head curved toward his shoulder, and I smiled as the sound of her laughter filled the air.
Closing the door behind me, I headed upstairs and entered my bedroom, removing my clothes as I went. I quickly showered, and then I took time in selecting a conservative, flowery dress with very little jewelry. I curled the ends of my hair, and I kept my makeup light.
Today wasn’t about me.
Silently, I headed out the door and drove the familiar route I’d come to memorize recently. Over the years, I’d worn a path between our houses, and now, it seemed I was doing the same as I drove through the familiar neighborhood each and every Sunday.
Sundays were the unofficial day for families. Dads would fire up the grills while teenagers emerged from their slumbering caves to spend a few hours with their parents. Kids would play in the yards as mothers read while lounging in the sun. Sundays were for spending time with the ones you loved.
Today, I was spending the afternoon with the woman who had been my only family for years.
She was the one woman who had loved me when no one else had.
~Jackson~
I walked through the gate and already felt uneasy.
I hated cemeteries.
They creeped me the fuck out, especially this one.
My nana loved American history. It was the reason she’d refused to move into a retirement home even though the doctors and the entire family begged her to reconsider.
That house had been her life.
It had been a cockroach or two away from being condemned, and every realtor this side of the James River had told my grandparents that they were crazy to even consider buying it, but they hadn’t listened. Nana and my granddad had spent every cent they had to buy it, and they’d built it up from the heap of rubble it had formerly been.
“It’s history, Jackson,” Nana had explained. “And all history needs to be preserved and cherished.”
And they had done just that. They did most of the repairs before I was born, but never seemed to stop working on the endless list of repairs and projects the house required. With their love and time, the formerly forgotten piece of history was restored to its former glory. I had spent many summers in that house—polishing banisters and mantels, cleaning out closets that had been long forgotten, and discovering treasures in the attic that hadn’t been seen by human eyes for decades.
Her love for history was the reason they’d chosen to be buried in this particular plot of land. It was the oldest cemetery in Richmond, and therefore, in my opinion, it was also the most disturbing.
It was juvenile, but I couldn’t help the shudder going through me as I walked along the curved pathway, dreading the moment I’d have to step off it to get to Nana’s and Granddad’s graves.
I hated stepping off the pathway.
I looked around, noticing the perfectly arranged flowers on the headstones, and suddenly, I felt like an ass.
Here I was, at my grandparents’ gravesites, and I was so focused on everything else, I hadn’t even taken a moment to consider the real reason I was actually here—and the fact that I hadn’t been here since the funeral.
I should have come sooner.
I should have sent flowers.
I should have visited them more before they’d died.
I should have done a lot of things.
I took a deep breath and stepped off the path onto the grassy earth. As I made my way to the fourth headstone down the row in front of me, I wondered how much regret was felt within the gates of this place.
How many people walked these pathways, knelt in front of these stones, and wished for one more day, one more hour, just to make things different or right?
In life, there really wasn’t such a thing as a second chance. Life remembered, and it would move on. All you could do was move on with it and hope for the best.
As I approached the matching headstones, I immediately saw the small clusters of flowers scattered around the base of the granite.
Tons of them, white lilies and purple lilacs, were beautifully cradled between the two stones. Some were showing age while others were new and bright.
Who would do such a thing?
I looked down at my empty hands and felt like a failure.
“You can have these,” a small voice said.
I turned to see Liv quietly standing behind me, carrying two bouquets of flowers. One was white lilies, and the other was purple lilacs.
“It was you?” I motioned to the flowers at the foot of the headstones.
She nodded, stepping forward. She handed me the lilacs, and we both knelt down together, setting the bouquets side by side in front of the others.
“I come here every Sunday,” she said.
“Why?” I asked, completely stunned by her admission.