“My son was obviously distraught when he said what he said. He was upset with me because I had come to pick him up early from his friend Jessica’s. I had a bad feeling. I couldn’t get ahold of my husband and I was worried about Kyle. I came to get him early, embarrassed him, and he was mad at me. That’s what he meant, I knew something was going to happen, or that something had happened. I can’t explain how, because I don’t honestly know. I just…felt it. Mother’s instinct, I guess. But what you’re doing…what you’re asking of him, to talk to you when his father has just passed away, it’s not fair. He’s only fifteen years old, he’s just a child. His whole world has been turned upside down. He needs time. We all need time.”
The officer looked at Kyle and scribbled something down in his notebook. Beside her, Kyle collapsed onto her shoulder, his sobs growing loud again. She couldn’t help but fill with a sense of insurmountable love as her son fell into her arms. Tears welled in her eyes again, all anger forgotten. She was still his mother and he still needed her, no matter how old he grew. She rubbed his shoulders, placing a kiss on the top of his head.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” he told her, his words barely recognizable through the tears.
“I’m not accusing you of anything, Mrs. Claiborne. I have to have this all on official statement, and I have to cover all of my bases, for your husband’s sake. Surely you understand that.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Today has just been…” she trailed off, not sure of the word to describe this nightmare. She leaned her head onto her son, syncing their breathing, and wishing they were anywhere but there.
“I know this is hard, believe me. I’m so sorry to put you both through this. I just have one last question for now.”
Peighton nodded, not taking her eyes off of her child.
“Do you know of anyone who might want to hurt your husband? Has he ever received any threatening calls, letters, messages of any sort?” He looked at her seriously, his eyes obviously trying to read her expression.
She thought for a moment, still latched onto Kyle with both arms. “Nothing we ever took seriously. He’s a senator, so obviously he has people who don’t like him, who don’t agree with his views…but Todd was a friendly person. People love him. He was a good man. I can’t imagine anyone seriously wanting to hurt him.” She realized as she spoke she was mixing up the past and present tense, trying hard to keep up with the questions. It was hard for her to imagine her husband as permanently past tense, harder for her to accept.
“Okay,” he said simply, closing his notebook. “Thank you both. Now, whenever you’re ready, if you’re ready, I can take you to see your husband’s body.”
Four
PEIGHTON
The morning of Todd’s funeral, Peighton stood in front of her mirror, staring at the black dress that had once been a bit too snug. It now hung loosely over her frame, further proof of the many meals she had missed and hours of sleep she hadn’t gotten since Todd’s death.
“Kyle,” she yelled down the hall at hearing his footsteps retreating from the bathroom. She ran her hands over her pearls one last time, grabbed her darkest sunglasses off of her vanity, and turned to leave her room. She followed her son’s footsteps down the hall and stopped in front of his bedroom door. “Kyle?” she called again.
“What?” he asked, swinging the door open quickly. She gasped at the sight of him: wearing a dark suit, his golden hair parted perfectly to the left, he looked so much like his father in moments like this. She pulled him into a hug. His arms never went around her, but he didn’t pull away, so she considered it a win.
“You look just like him, Kyle,” she said, tears in her eyes. They were used to tears by now, they seemed to take up a large part of every day. In the beginning, they’d tried to avoid looking at each other when they were crying, giving the other a sense of privacy, but now none of that seemed to matter.
“Do you need something?” he asked finally, his teenage wall going back up.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said, clearing her throat and wiping a tear from her cheek. She nodded toward the tie that hung loosely around his neck.
He clutched it protectively. “No. I can do it myself.”
“Okay, sweetheart, that’s fine. It’s time to go, though.”
“I need a minute, Mom,” he said, annoyance radiating in his voice, and shut the door in her face.
She backed up, starting to walk away, but stopped. Waiting. She listened to him shuffling around behind his door, mumbling to himself. She heard him sigh, huffing, before opening the door again. His face showed defeat, his eyes red. He stared at her for just a moment before looking down at the floor. “Dad always tied my tie,” he said softly, his voice breaking. His hands went to his face immediately, his palms covering his eyes.
Her heart broke, another small piece falling off what she was sure must be a shriveled mess at that point. She could literally feel the pain in her heart since Todd had passed growing deeper and darker with each passing day. She stared at her son, feeling completely helpless. Finally, she reached for him. When he didn’t stop her, she took hold of his tie carefully.
“Well now, who do you think taught him?” she asked, trying to extract a smile from both of their miserable faces. He looked up at her, allowing her to tie it. “There now, how’s that?”
He ran his hands over the knot, nodding. “It’s good.”
“Good.” She smiled at him. “You ready?”
“No,” he said, “are you?”
She shook her head. “I never will be.”
As they made their way down the staircase, Isabel paced in front of them. “You guys look wonderful,” she told them politely, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. Peighton smiled, pulling her housekeeper into a warm hug.
“Where’s Frank?”
“He called earlier, said he will meet you there. The pallbearers are all arriving early. He didn’t want to rush you.” Isabel patted Kyle’s shoulders, dusting them clean and adjusting his tie. “You are so handsome, wee one.”
“Izzy, I’m not little anymore,” he said firmly, though his voice had a softer edge to it than it would have had if he said it to his mother.
“You will always be little to me.” She smiled. “So little to be dealing with something so big today. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. When I lost my husband, I remember…I don’t think I left the bed for weeks. There is nothing like that pain.” Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke. “You guys are the only family I know anymore, and I have lost a part of that today. Mr. Todd was a good man. I am so very sorry for your loss.” She pulled the handkerchief back out, patting her eyes again.
“Our loss,” Peighton corrected her. “He was your family too, like you said. You’re coming to the funeral, right?” she asked, staring at Isabel’s casual clothes.
“Of course, Ms. Peighton, I wouldn’t be anywhere else. I just wanted to get the house extra clean before everyone is over this evening. I’ll go change now.”
“Great. We’ll wait for you in the car. The house looks great, Isabel.” With that, the housekeeper hurried out of the room.
When Peighton opened the door, she was surprised to see a familiar face waiting for her. “Officer Nealson, what on earth are you doing here?”
He took a small step back, his gaze trailing her up and down, as if he were just as surprised as she was. “Oh—” he said, seemingly at a loss for words. “Oh, no. Is it…today’s the—”
“My husband’s funeral, yes,” she said, realizing his question before he could ask it.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Claiborne. I didn’t realize.” He looked genuinely apologetic and she couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for him.
“Peighton, please. Call me Peighton. And it’s all right.” She held her hand up, assuring him. “Is everything okay?”
“If this isn’t a good time, I can come back. I’m finishing up my second twelve-hour shift in twenty-four hours and I’m exhausted. I guess it just slipped my mind. I feel awful. I should have realized. I knew the funeral was today. I’m genuinely very sorry, Peighton,” he said, his voice soft.
“Would you like some coffee?” she asked. “I can fix you a to-go cup.”