Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Josie,” I whisper to get her attention. She sucks in a breath, almost like she’s had moving air into her lungs on hold for the entire drive, her eyes fluttering to mine. “We’re here.”
She scoots to the edge of her seat, and I put my hands to her hips to help her climb out.
The sun is bright and highlights the trees beautifully, a cacophony of colors raining down their leaves all around us. It’s a stark background for the black of all the funeral-goers, and the walk to the grave site feels painful and tortured.
Josie walks ahead, her eyes to her feet as she traverses the dying grass in heels, and I stay close to be there if she needs me.
My tie swings in the space between us and highlights the significance of the occasion. I’m a jeans and boots guy every day. But not today. Grandma Rose deserves my very finest.
A crowd of townspeople follow us, a wave of despair so profound none of them have even tried to get me to talk about city council issues.
Sheriff Pete catches up to me and holds out a hand, and I take it to shake as we enter the shaded space of the pop-up tent that covers the gravesite and Grandma’s casket. It’s a huge change in light, so it takes my eyes a moment to adjust, but when they do, I see an older woman and an early twenties girl with remarkably familiar curls sitting in the front row.
Josie sees them at the very same time.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” They’re the first words out of my wife’s mouth the whole day, and her voice is raw from disuse, adding even more of an edge.
She marches straight over to them and pulls the older woman out of her seat with rough hands. “Mother, you’ve got some fucking nerve coming here,” Josie grinds out, her whole body strung so tight, I’m worried she’ll break.
I’m also quick to deduce why both women look so familiar. It’s Eleanor and Norah Ellis, Josie’s mother and sister. I’ve never met them, but I’ve heard enough about them through town gossip and from what little Josie has revealed to me to know this isn’t an ideal situation at all.
City meeting small town head on, they’re dressed in luxury-brand clothes I know from my former life as a rich prick. Her mom’s face is callous and careless, and her younger sister Norah cowers behind her imposing figure like a lost puppy.
“She was my mother-in-law,” Eleanor spits. “I have every right to be here.”
“Over my dead body,” Josie threatens, her hand shaking with the load of adrenaline dumping into her veins. I step forward to help, but Sheriff Peeler pushes me back, his eyes begging me not to get involved. Instead, he does, placing himself between Josie and Eleanor.
“I think you need to leave, Ellie.”
“I’m not fucking leaving, and you can’t make me.” Eleanor is stubborn, digging her heels into the grass and pitching her nose high in the air as if she’s better than everyone here. “I’m mourning just as much as anyone else, my daughter has a right to say goodbye to her grandmother, and we have a right to be here to discuss Rose’s will.”
“Discuss her will? Are you that much of a psychopath that you came here to see if there was money for you to get? You’re the last fucking person she’d put in her will!” Josie yells, pushing into Pete’s body so forcefully, he has to hold her back. “Grandma Rose is turning over in her casket at the sight of you. And Norah isn’t your only daughter, Mom. News flash, but you had three.”
I’ve heard lore of Josie and Norah’s third sister, Jezzy, who died as a toddler, through whispers in town. I’ve seen her tattoo and her necklace she wears to honor her. But watching her confront her mother about the truth head on and hearing the pain in her voice is like a kick to the fucking stomach.
I step forward and stand behind my wife, but Norah already has her by the elbow. “Josie, stop. Now isn’t the time for this.”
Josie guffaws. “Ha! You can tell you don’t know a damn thing about your grandma either, Nore. Rose hated her!” she yells, pointing at Eleanor, “And she’d be absolutely disgusted to see you drinking the Kool-Aid.”
“Jose,” I whisper, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her back slightly. But she fights out of my hold, and I let her. Stifling her need to let all this out is about the last thing I can imagine will help.
Bennett’s truck pulls to a stop at the curb with the rest of the cars, and when he sees the mayhem, he gets out and starts moving this way on a jog.