Two Months Later
The summer had passed by quickly, and I’d spent the majority of it on Bronn’s boat.
It had been the best two months of my life, and it was all because of Bronnson. On the nights that I didn’t work, I would sit my ass on one of his bar stools, watching him sling drinks to the regulars and tourists, admiring his charm and the easy way that he connected with the people he served.
Once he realized that I was in it for real, he became a completely different man. Gone was the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde routine. Bronn had changed, and I wasn’t the only one who had noticed.
Dani and I had gotten to know each other better, going for runs in the early morning hours before the blazing sun rose. She’d told me more about her own childhood, and how her heart had always ached for her little brother. I wanted to take the credit she gave me for the change in him, but it wasn’t all me. It was him, realizing that he was so much fucking more than just a statistic.
I’d still gone to see Nana regularly, but I hadn’t asked Bronn to go with me again. He’d offered every weekend though, and every time he did my heart melted a little more that he was willing to subject himself to that.
Nana’s health had continued to deteriorate, her memory worsening with each visit. The last visit I’d had with her, she’d slept the entire time, never once waking to acknowledge my presence. So it came as no surprise when I got the call from the home care nurse that she had passed away in her sleep.
The guilt that I felt for not being by her side had been immense, the sense of duty engrained in the very fiber of my being. The doctor had assured me though, that she wouldn’t have known if I was there. And for someone so hard and proud, she would have been horrified that anyone had seen her in those final moments, weak and finally giving up the fight.
The funeral had been a grand affair, she had it planned for years before her death. Riley had been the one to execute her wishes, as she had indicated in her will. I’d been relieved that there was nothing left for me to decide. I didn’t want the pressure of planning something that I knew she would never approve of anyhow.
Hundreds of people turned out, but I didn’t know a single one of them. They were former associates of my papa, fellow club members, women from the church that Nana had hated attending but had done because it was what a proper southern woman did. They had hugged me, murmured their condolences, and then spent the rest of the time socializing, being sure to be seen so they could later talk about how terrible the loss of Marie Monroe was for the community.
I’d avoided going back the house after the graveside service, instead showing Bronn around town, pointing out the places I had frequented as a teenager, showing him my favorite spot by the river that I’d run away to any time Nana would chastise me for eating too much, not enough, too sloppily.
I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever, and it was finally time to go back to the house and begin cleaning it out, prepping it for the estate sale and getting anything sentimental that I wanted out—not that there was much there that I hadn’t already taken with me.
But again, it was my duty as the only surviving heir to sort through her personal effects.
Riley had read her final testament and will, and while I should have been shocked that she’d left over half of the estate to the local Rotary Club, I hadn’t even flinched. I didn’t care about the money anyway, but it was her last final fuck you to the girl that she was saddled with raising when she should have been spending her retirement years in Florida at the country club.
“Baby, let me go with you,” Bronn pleads, his voice tight, his face is serious, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He doesn’t want me to face the ghosts of my past alone, and I swear to God, if it weren’t for the fact that we were already late, I’d have taken him to bed right that very moment.
With a deep sigh, I shake my head. “You’ve got too much going on here. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
Bronn had been short staffed at the bar for the last week, and it had already been difficult for him to leave to go to the funeral with me. I didn’t want to be responsible for any more issues that may come up in his absence. He’d been working nearly sixteen-hour days, and even if he’d been able to get away, I didn’t want him to have to spend his time off sorting through my Nana’s crap.
“I’ll miss you though,” I murmur, pushing onto my toes to kiss him lightly.
His arms wrap around my waist, and the quick peck on the lips turns to more.
“Mmm…” I moan into his mouth, relishing the way his tongue glides against mine. Before it can turn to more, I pull back, running my tongue along his lips. “We don’t have time for that.”
He grabs my hand and places it over the bulge in his pants. “Don’t tell him that.”
I giggle and shake my head. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll be back tonight though.”
With a sad groan, he releases my hand and I step away, grabbing my purse from the bed and turning toward the door.
“Grace, wait.” Bronn’s voice is serious again, causing me to pause. “I don’t want you to have to go through her things alone. Let me make a few calls and I’ll go with you.”
I want Bronn by my side, just as he’s been throughout the whole ordeal, but I know that it would be a huge burden on him today. And the last thing I want is for my Nana to cause him any more trouble.
I step back to him and wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly, breathing in the strength that he gives me.
“I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate that. How badly I want you to be with me, but, I mean it, you’ve been killing yourself at the bar, with no end in sight. I don’t want to be the cause of anymore stress, even if it just for the day.” I tilt my head back and meet his intense gaze. “Besides, I won’t be alone. Riley’s going to be there.”
His body stiffens at the name, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell is he going to be doing?”
“Oh, don’t be like that. He’s got the keys to the house, and as executor of the estate he says he needs to be there to oversee everything.”
“Sure,” he mutters, taking me by the shoulders and stepping back. “Well, let me know when you get there.”
His entire demeanor has shifted and I hate it. These last couple of months, broody, jerky Bronn has been MIA, with charming, amazing Bronn in his place. And I’ve enjoyed every single second of it.
I grab his hand, rubbing my thumb along the back of it. “Trust me, I wish it was you with me,” I tell him quietly.
He nods curtly and I sigh. Nothing I say is going to change the way he feels. And I don’t really blame him. If the roles were reversed, I probably wouldn’t be too pleased either.
“Thank you for offering. Thank you for everything,” I whisper. I step back and release his hand, then shuffle to the door. Tossing my hair over my shoulder, I blow him a quick kiss. “Call you soon!”
“You really don’t have to do this, Riley,” I say over my shoulder, turning the key in the lock of my childhood home.
I’d just been here less than two weeks, but it felt foreign to me, stepping inside the empty house. Even after Nana had been sick and no longer accepting visitors, there had still been the nursing staff on hand, along with the housekeeper that cleaned daily, even though no one was making any messes.
My heels clip along the marble foyer, the sound echoing through the silent house, and a chill races down my spine. I haven’t been afraid of ghosts since I was a kid, but something about the emptiness freaks me out. I am ready to get in and get out, doing what needs to be done as quickly as possible.
“Grace, I wouldn’t ever expect you to do this all alone.” His voice is sincere, and despite the fact that I’ve not seen him much over the summer, it is comforting. “Besides, I’m happy to see you,” he tells my back.
I agree. “It’s good to see you. It’s been too long.”
We stand awkwardly in the foyer just staring at each other. My relationship with Bronn has caused a strain in our friendship, something that hurts my heart to think about, but it can’t be helped. I know that Riley wants more than I am able to offer him, and a part of me thinks that maybe the distance between us is for the best.
“Listen, there isn’t much I want to get from here. A few things from my old bedroom, but that’s about it. There are some boxes in the garage. Do you mind grabbing them?”
He nods. “Sure thing, Grace. You look really good, you know? The coast agrees with you.” With the compliment, he sets off to get what I’ve asked for. I watch him go, letting out a relieved breath when he finally turns out of view.
It isn’t the coast that’s caused the change in me, although it’s definitely helped. No, I look good because I’m finally happy, again. Something that I wouldn’t be if I’d stayed here and followed the path that Nana had tried to lay out for me.
I climb the stairs, but instead of turning left at the top, in the direction of my old bedroom, I turn right and meander down the hall to Nana’s room.
As a child, I’d never been allowed inside. It had been sacred ground, full of secrets and mythical creatures. At least, that’s what I’d believed. After she’d gotten sick and had become bedridden, I’d been allowed in, only to find that it was just an ordinary room—albeit a richly decorated, somewhat frilly room. But there was nothing lurking in the corners, no government secrets, no gold bars stacked on the nightstand like I’d always imagined.
I slip inside, feeling somewhat guilty to be taking advantage of the fact that no one is here to stop me.
The room is bathed in unnatural lighting, the four-poster bed perfectly made in the center in the room, as if the mistress of the castle hadn’t just taken her last breath in that very spot. My stomach somersaults as I tiptoe past the furnishings and slowly open the closet door. The walk-in closet is the size of my bedroom, and pitch black. I fumble along the wall until my hand makes contact with the switch.
Stepping inside, the room is filled with designer clothes and shoes, all of which smell like Nana’s perfume. The scent is cloyingly sweet, causing my eyes to water.
Any of Papa’s clothes that may have once resided here are long gone, the space now filled with even more clothing that my Nana probably never even wore.
I slink inside, running my hand along the clothing, the scent causing a flood of memories to invade my mind, most of them unpleasant. Feeling guilty for thinking ill of the dead, I push the thoughts aside.
There’s a safe taking up an entire corner of the closet and I dig the set of keys out of my pocket, trying each until I find one that finally fits and turns the handle.
The safe creaks open and I peer inside. Irrationally, my heart pounds as if something is about to leap out at me. But once the door is fully opened, nothing happens and I let out a nervous laugh, feeling stupid for having been so scared.
The safe is mostly empty, save a few jewelry boxes and a file folder.
I pull the boxes out and open them up. The first is a necklace with a huge amethyst pendant surrounded by diamonds. I finger the necklace and remember the only time I ever saw it before now, gracing the neck of my grandmother for her and Papa’s thirtieth wedding anniversary. I remember he had been so proud, giving that to her in front of all of their friends. She’d put it on and beamed at him, the only time that I could remember her looking truly happy. Her normally pinched face had been relaxed, her age melting away, and if you had asked anyone there, they would have sworn she was no older than forty. The happiness hadn’t lasted though—it never did—and by the end of the night the strict old lady had returned.
I replace the lid to the box and put it away, pulling a smaller box out. Flipping the lid open, my breath catches when a simple gold band is revealed.
Mama’s wedding band.
She’d worn the ring for years after my father’s death, refusing to take it off, much to my grandmother’s dismay.
“Mama, why do you still wear your ring?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Daddy’s been gone for years.”
Her face fell, the sadness she worked so hard to conceal from me taking center stage. “Because, baby, I still love your daddy. The bars between us can’t change that.”
I’d stared at her, my ten-year-old mind not understanding. “What bars?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Nothing, Grace.” Her eyes opened and they shimmered with tears. “Your daddy loved you, you know that?”
I’d nodded my head so hard it had hurt after. I did know that.
She’d changed the subject after that, and I hadn’t brought it up again.
I pull the band from its box, sliding it over my own finger and study it. It is plain, and misshapen—probably from years of wear—but it still shines, despite having been locked away for all this time. My blood begins to boil as it dawns on me that my mama had been buried without her precious ring.
“God, you were fucking horrible, you know that?” I shout at Nana, knowing good and well she can’t hear me, but not stopping the words from tumbling from my lips. “Why would you do this? You knew how much she loved my daddy. Why couldn’t you have just let her be? You old bitch!”
Tears roll down my cheeks, my anger desperate to escape in any way possible, even in the form of useless tears.
Angrily swiping at my face, I brush the tears away and pull myself together. Mama may not be able to spend eternity with the last remaining symbol of love she had for my father, but I sure as hell will.
With the ring still on my finger, I pull the file folder out of the safe. Unfastening the front, I open it wide to reveal a large stack of envelopes.
The stacks are wrapped together with rubber bands and I pull one out. Sliding the band off, a single sheet of paper flutters from the stack. Picking it up from the floor, I open it, but then the address on the front of the top envelope causes me to pause.
The letter is addressed to Grace Chumley. My daddy’s last name, the name that I’d never been given because my parents hadn’t been married when I was born, and it had been too expensive to change my name after they were married. It had worked out though, seeing as how after my father’s death Mama had gone back to her maiden name as well. Nana had always said it was best that we all have the same last name. Made legal matters much easier. I’d always kind of wished that I had my daddy’s name, a way to carry his legacy on.
I pull the letter from the stack and flip it over, only to find the letter’s been opened. Wracking my brain, I come up empty, positive that I don’t remember ever seeing this before, much less opening and reading it.
My Little Bear,
The endearment my father always used for me takes my breath away, and a lifetime of memories flash through my mind. My hands begin to tremble, the single sheet of lined paper shaking.
It’s been two weeks since I last saw you. The longest two weeks of my entire life. I miss you more than you will ever know. Every minute without you is more painful than the last, but I know your mama is taking good care of you.
I think about you constantly; you’re the only thing that’s kept me going. I love you so much, Bear.
Love always,
Daddy
I don’t understand, and confused, I flip the envelope over, the postage stamp dated 1999. The year that Daddy died. I can’t quite make out the month and day on the postmark, and scan the letter again, hoping to find a date that this was written. There’s nothing there, so I drop the paper and envelope before I grab the stack and pull the next one off, again noticing that it’s addressed to me, but already opened.
Sweet Bear,
You’re starting kindergarten soon. Oh, how I wish I was there to see you on your first day. I bet your mama puts your hair in pigtails, with big pink ribbons holding them in place. Is pink still your favorite color? I hope that your teacher is kind and that you learn everything she has to teach you.
I know that you’re probably wondering where I’ve been all this time. Soon I’ll be able to see you, to tell you everything. But until then, just know that you are always on my mind and that I love you more than all the stars in the sky.
Love always,
Daddy
I started kindergarten four months after I watched my daddy die. How the hell could he have written me a letter from the grave?
Since the day my daddy died, there had been an ache in my chest. Over the years, the ache had dulled some, and intensifying on occasion, like when I graduated high school and my father wasn’t there to see me. Or the first time my heart had been broken and I didn’t have my daddy to hold me and threaten to shoot the boy who had done it. But for the most part, it had been a manageable pain, one that had faded even more after meeting Bronn and having someone that related to me.
But the searing pain that I am feeling now is nothing compared to that. I can’t breathe, the pressure in my chest so immense and, for a split second, panic begins to course through my veins, convincing me that I may die from lack of oxygen.
Sinking to the floor, I push my head between my knees and gulp in air, using my training as a nurse to even my breathing out and reassure myself that I would not die from this panic attack.
I’m still lost, not comprehending what I’m reading when I hear Riley calling my name from down the hall.
My mouth is too dry to speak, my heart galloping, so I don’t respond, just continue to pull envelopes from the stack, greedily reading the short notes in each one.
“Grace?” Riley’s shrill voice calls my name again, this time from behind me, his large body blocking the light. With tears in my eyes, I clutch the letters to my chest and turn.
“Aw, shit,” he murmurs, squatting before me. “You found the letters.”
He avoids my eyes, his gaze trained to the floor, voice low. “You weren’t supposed to find those.”
My mind races, but with every new thought a hundred questions pop up. I have no idea what these letters mean, what Riley’s saying, what the hell is going on.
I’d come to my Nana’s house to clean out the personal effects, not to learn that my entire life has been a lie.
“What are these?” I squeak, the letters still firmly in my grasp.
Riley’s gaze finally lifts to meet mine, his eyes full of pity. “Your nana never wanted you to know.”
“Fuck what Nana wanted!” I shout as I leap to my feet, adrenaline surging through my veins. My anger grows with each moment that he stands there mutely. “Who are these letters from?” I shout again, waving the stack in his face.
Riley reaches for the letters but I jerk them away, out of his reach. Holding his hands up in surrender, he says the words that make my world stop spinning.
“Your father’s not dead.”
A wave of nausea hits me so hard I physically stumble backward. Bending over, I drop my hands to my knees and pant, trying to keep the bile that’s surged up my throat at bay.
I’ve spent the last seventeen years of my life mourning the loss of a man that wasn’t dead.
I’m unable to stand upright, the pain in my stomach physically holding me down. “How do you know that?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“Grace, why don’t we go sit down?” His voice is quiet, his tone patronizing. I’m not a violent person, but the urge to hit something consumes me—that something being Riley James.
“I. Don’t. Want. To. Sit.” I grit out. I pull myself together and stand up to face him, squaring my shoulders, and demand, “Tell me everything. Right fucking now.”
“I only know what Marie told me.” He’s stalling, his eyes darting all over the place.
“Dammit, Riley,” I cry. “Please.”
The adrenaline begins to wane, leaving me weak and shaky. I’m desperate to understand what the hell is going on and, right now, the only person that can answer that for me is doing everything possible to avoid telling me.
“Let’s just go sit down and I’ll tell you what I know,” he pleads, and this time I nod, grabbing the file folder and shuffle out of the closet behind him.
I perch on the edge of the chaise lounge in the corner of Nana’s room and Riley sits down beside me, his large frame crowding me.
“I can’t breathe with you sitting on top of me!” I snap before scooting away.
He shoots me a wounded look, but I can’t care about his hurt feelings. I’m too wrapped up in the chaos that’s running through my mind.
As if they are a child that I’m afraid will run off, I clutch the letters tightly and demand, “Talk. Now.”
Riley blows out a breath. “Before I tell you anything, just know that your nana was only doing what was best for you.”
I scoff. “Right. ‘Cause telling me that my father was dead, when he wasn’t, was totally the best thing for a five-year-old child!”
“Grace,” he groans, “I know you don’t understand now, but you will.”
“Stop defending her. She’s fucking dead. Tell me about my father. Where is he?”
“Prison.”
My heart stops beating.
Prison?
“Wha––“I gasp. “I don’t understand. I watched him die in that gas station.”
Riley shakes his head. “He didn’t die.”
“I don’t, I don’t understand. What do you mean he didn’t die?”
Riley stares at me. “I mean, your mother told you he died, but he didn’t. He went to prison.”
I’m beyond speechless, my mind working overtime, but no coherent thoughts formulating. My breathing, which had just begun to slow down, kicks back up and I feel dizzy.
Between gasps, I sputter, “For what?”
Riley’s eyes cut away from me and I grab his arm, digging my nails into his flesh.
He flinches, but doesn’t cry out in pain even though I’m sure that I must be hurting him.
“For what?” I say again, this time my voice steadier.
When he reaches for my thigh and pats it with his free hand, I withdraw my nails from his arm and swat at him. “Don’t try to comfort me. I don’t need it. I need facts.”
I need to know everything, and his hesitation is pissing me off. He thinks that he’s doing what’s best for me and just following Nana’s wishes, but I am not a child, and I don’t need him to sugar coat shit for me.
What I need is for him to grow a pair of fucking balls and quit worrying about what that old bitch wanted from him.
What I need is to know why I’ve spent my entire life missing a man that wasn’t in the urn on my mama’s dresser.
What I goddamn need is to know where my father is and why.
Through clenched teeth I say, “One last time, Riley. Tell me every fucking thing, and do it now.”
I’ve never been so harsh.
I’ve also never been so blindsided.
Grief is a bitter fucking pill to swallow.
But this?
This isn’t grief.
It’s fury.