“What happened?” Bo asks, but we’re interrupted by the sound of branches breaking beneath someone’s feet.
“Here you two are.” David enters our fort and squats in front of us with a light grin on his face. “Spencer, the funeral home is all set for tomorrow. Josh left some notes here for scripture suggestions.”
“Whatever you think is best, David.” Bo lifts his arm from my shoulders and rubs his eyes with a sigh.
Standing, I stretch my arms overhead. “David, I’ll walk back to the house and take a look at Josh’s notes with you. I don’t think I’ve ever actually opened a Bible, but...Bo, why don’t you just hang out here, and I’ll come find you when I make lunch, OK?” Bo doesn’t argue; he lets his head tilt back against the weeping willow and he closes his eyes.
Once back on the driveway facing the house, David takes my hand.
“I’m so glad you’re here, November.” The shaking of his hand makes me turn my head. He has tears streaming down his face.
“David, I’m so sorry.” I stop and pull my hand away to give him a hug.
“I thought losing Spencer and Vivian was the absolute worst thing that could have happened to those kids,” David speaks as we enter the house.
“This is so fucking unreal, excuse my language. In case anyone happens to ask, I put all of Rae’s stuff in her bedroom before Bo came in last night. I can’t believe the funeral’s already tomorrow ...” I know I’m rambling, but David doesn’t seem to mind.
“Well, the family from California’s on a flight out here as we speak, and everyone else is here. Spencer doesn’t want to do a wake, just the funeral service.”
“Where’s the cemetery? I don’t even know...why didn’t I ever ask him?”
“Ah,” David comes up behind me and gives my shoulders a playful squeeze, “you two were busy falling in love.” He says it like we never stopped.
I never did.
*
When the sun finally sets on the first day she’s gone, the readings, the music, and all other arrangements are set for Rae’s funeral. I haven’t seen much of Bo since lunch by the pond. Family from California have come and gone to their respective hotels. I’ve just spent the evening organizing food donations in the refrigerator and freezer. When the last of the dishes are put away and the counters are wiped clean, I dry my hands and turn for the living room; Bo’s figure in the doorway startles me.
“Jesus!” I scream, my fatigue causing me to be jumpier than usual.
“Sorry.” He lets the fleetest of grins escape his mouth. “Thank you for taking care of all of this, Ember.” Bo gestures across the kitchen.
“Of course. You should go get some sleep, if you can. I have no idea how tomorrow will be, but sleep can’t hurt.” I walk toward him and pick a piece of string off his shirt.
He grabs my hand and holds it to his lips. My eyes follow the length of my arm, up my fingertips, where I stare at his lips as they press against my skin.
His lips tingle against my knuckles as he talks, his eyes closed. “Thank you for staying tonight.”
“You need to stop thanking me, Bo,” I whisper because, without realizing it, my mouth’s run dry under his touch.
Dropping my hand, Bo reaches for my face. New emotion fills his recently void eyes; intention bleeds through his gaze. With his free hand, he brushes my hair away from my shoulders before leaning down and stroking my neck with his nose, making a home for his lips just beneath my jaw. He has to feel my goosebumps beneath his lips.
“Will you come up with me? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Chapter Thirty-One
The morning of the funeral is slow chaos. I’m showered and ready for whatever I’m supposed to do before Bo wakes up. He passed out with his head on my chest last night. I was awake most of the night, listening to him breathe. David arrived at the house early to help manage the people who are using the Cavanaugh residence as a staging area. They all mean well, these people I’ve never seen or heard of before. It makes me feel like an outsider that they all know Bo and Rae so well. Some of the older ones call him Spencer, like David does. I chuckle a little at how pissed I was the first day he showed up at my office using that name.
David catches me alone, staring out a living room window. “How are you doing, Sweetheart?”
His warm embrace really does feel like a father’s, and it makes me miss mine. My stomach sinks as I realize I haven’t called my parents.
“My parents are out of town, and I totally forgot to call them.” David lets go as I walk outside, my cellphone shaking between my fingers.
My dad answers my mom’s phone and I’m reduced to tears. “Hey Baby Blue! Your mother and I were just talking about you. Sweetie? Are you OK?” He can hear my sobs.
“It’s Rae...Bo’s sister...She died—” It’s the first time I’ve said “she died.”
I stumble my way through the details when, in a salty haze of tears, I spot Monica’s car crawling up the driveway.
“I’ve gotta go, Dad. Please tell Mom ...”