CHAPTER SEVEN

On the way home from the hospital, my family and I rode in silence. Numb. I never imagined having to say goodbye to my father, and I wasn’t prepared for it.

Minutes from the house, I took out my cell and texted Valencia.

We took my dad off of life support this afternoon. I’ll call you in a couple of days once I can function.

A text came through quickly.

I’m so sorry, Calla. If you need me just say the word and I’ll fly out. Give my love and condolences to your family.

I will. Thank you.

As I walked through the front door of my childhood home, the jolliness of the Christmas decorations caused sadness to hit me like a freight train once again. I saw all of our gifts still under the tree, and it struck me, as I stared at the colorful lights, that I would never see my father again, never get to spend another holiday with him. He’d never pick me up at the airport and welcome me with open arms. He’d never sit at the dining room table and cheat at board games, causing me and my siblings to playfully argue with him. He’d never kiss my mom on the cheek and slap her butt in affection again, saying he loved her as much now as he did the day they married.

And he’d never tell me that he loved me again.

After I took a deep breath and wiped my tears, I shrugged off my coat and headed to the kitchen to pour myself a giant glass of OBB. If it wasn’t for my mother and her scolding me about everything, I’d drink straight from the bottle at this point. Everything was surreal, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to do or how to be. I wanted to fling myself on my bed and cry until I had no more tears left in me, but I had my mom and my brother and sister to think about. I was the oldest, and I felt as though it was my duty to take care of everyone now.

I carried my glass, the bottle, and three extra glasses, and then joined everyone in the living room. As I set the items on the coffee table, I noticed my mother rummaging in her purse by the front door. She pulled out her cell phone, then walked over to the desk and picked up her address book.

“Mom, have a glass of OBB. You’ll need to call everyone in Ireland tomorrow because it’s too late there now.” We were eight hours behind my grandma and my parent’s friends in Dublin, so it was the middle of the night there.

“Right.” She sighed and closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her cheek.

“We’ll call everyone in the morning for you, Mom. Let us do it.” Alastair walked over and placed his arm around her shoulders, hugging her against his lean frame. “Just tell us who to call besides Grandma, and we’ll take care of it in the morning.”

She nodded and handed him the address book. “Okay, thank you. Call … everyone.”

Betha poured both herself and Mom a few fingers each of the whiskey, while Alastair went to the kitchen to grab a beer. Sometimes he and my father would sit on the deck in the backyard and drink beers while shooting the shit. We all had our way of coping. Once he was back, we sat in silence until Mother spoke again.

“Calla, can you call Ted and let him know?” I realized my mother was so much softer in how she spoke to me since Draven told me he would speak with her. Whatever he’d said to her at the hospital had apparently helped with her hatred toward me. I hadn’t seen him since he left the hospital room, giving us time to grieve alone, and that thought made me realize I needed to call or text him to thank him for everything—even if he couldn’t save my father.

I nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll handle OBB.”

Everyone at O’Bannion Burn was like family to us. Each one had worked for my father for many years, some since he’d opened OBB, and I wanted to make sure that they all knew they were safe and so were their jobs. I would also need to talk to Ted to see if he could get security cameras installed and run things until we found a replacement for my father. No one would ever replace him, but we needed someone to run the warehouse even if we had to promote from within.

I decided that even though it was late, Ted needed to know my father had passed. Carrying my whiskey, I went into the kitchen to make the call. After taking a big gulp of the sweet and spicy liquid, I took a deep breath before dialing his number.

“Hi, Uncle Ted. It’s Calla.”

“Hey, Calla. How’s your father doing?”

I closed my eyes as fresh tears slid down my cheeks. “He ... he passed this evening.”

“Oh, Calla. I’m so sorry for your loss.” After a few beats, his voice broke, “I’m going to miss your dad. He was an amazing man.”

“Yes, he was.” I paused before continuing, “The other reason for my call is that I was wondering if you could have cameras installed and let the staff know that they’re safe and we’ll be in touch soon about the funeral arrangements.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you, and please assure them that their jobs are safe too.” I didn’t know how at this point, but it was better not to worry anyone.

“I will, and don’t worry about the business right now. I’ll take care of things there and keep the doors locked for now. I’ll see about hiring a guard for the door or something. Go be with your family, and please pass on my condolences to your mom.”

“I will. Thank you for everything.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow, and please, if there’s anything I can do, call me.”

I thanked him again, ended the call, and then returned to the living room. Everyone was still in their own heads, silently remembering my father or what had transpired. I started to think about what would happen to the business. Dad had always joked he was going to leave me in charge because Mom wouldn’t have a clue what to do. At least I thought he was joking. It wasn’t the kind of thing we talked about when the family got together. Now he’d passed before we were ready, and I was definitely uncertain of what the future would hold regardless of telling Ted not to worry.

“Oh! What did Ted say?” Mom asked as though she’d just remembered I’d called him and I was back in the room.

“He’s going to let the staff know, and he’ll come by tomorrow. He also told me to pass on his condolences to you.”

“Okay. Thank you for doing that, Calla.” She sat back on the couch.

Alastair switched the television on, and we all stared at it. No one was w watching, but it drowned out the silence.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Mom said, a fresh batch of tears surfacing.

Betha hugged her as they cried together, and I leaned against the back of the couch, picturing my handsome dad as my own tears rolled down my face, splashing onto my top as they dripped off my chin, and before I knew it, I was dreaming.

Dreaming of my father alive.

My eyes felt as if I’d had been in a fight. They were swollen and tender as I showered the next morning. I let the water run over my face, wanting it to wash the grief away. How would today go? I knew there would be many tears and many phone calls to be made, and I was dreading it all because I just wanted to stay in bed and be alone.

I dressed comfortably in sweatpants and a baggy tee, and I tied my long brown hair up off my face. My body craved caffeine, so I headed downstairs to start a pot of coffee. The rest of the house woke not long after me, each grabbing a cup of coffee and not saying anything because it wasn’t a “good morning.”

We sat at the kitchen table for a long period of time before Mom spoke. “I guess I’d better start arranging the funeral.”

I placed a hand over hers. “Let us handle that.”

She smiled tightly. “Thank you.”

“Betha and I will start calling everyone,” Alastair said. He squeezed Mom’s shoulder and left the room, taking his coffee with him. Betha followed.

Mom left the table and went up to her room while I called the funeral home and scheduled my father’s service. Later that afternoon, a couple of my mom’s closest friends, including Uncle Ted, arrived to lend their support. It was hard watching my mom break down over and over and over again. I wished there was some way to take all of her pain away.

Not knowing what to do with myself other than cry, I took the liberty to take all of the Christmas decorations down. I didn’t know what to do with the presents other than hide them in the hall closet. I knew no one wanted to open them because presents were meant to be happy, and we were far from ever being happy again.

The day before my father’s funeral, I decided to take Valencia up on her offer. Even though I had my family, I felt alone. I needed my friend to help make me forget, or at least make me laugh. I grabbed my cell from my nightstand and called her.

“Calla. Thank God. I wanted to give you some space, but I’m so glad you called.”

I burst into sobs. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

“I know, honey. Please let me come to you. You know I’m off work until the Monday after New Year’s. We can drink margaritas every night.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Yes, please, please come. I need my friend.”

“Done. I’ll book the next flight I can get on.”

“Thank you. I’ll pay you back for your plane ticket.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my best friend, and I want to be there for you.”

I tried to lighten the mood. “But this means you won’t have a date with Chance now.”

She chuckled slightly in my ear. “Please. I was only going to go to Unicorn and hope he noticed me.”

“Of course he would. He always does.”

“You’re more important.”

I smiled tightly. “Thank you.”

“Let me jump online and book the next flight I can get. I’ll text you the schedule.”

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

After I pressed the end button, I opened up the text messages and sent one to Draven. I hadn’t heard from him—not like I’d expected my father’s doctor to call—but I remembered I still needed to thank him. Okay, I wanted to thank him. I wanted to see if he’d respond to me—to find out if he truly was only being a good guy. It was weird to be thinking about Draven right now, but it was better than continuing to cry.

Thank you for everything you tried to do for my father.I know you did what you could, and I’m grateful. Also, thank you for making me laugh the other night at Maxwell’s That was needed too.

There was no reply. Looking outside at the shining sun, I figured he was sleeping given he seemed to only work the evening or night shift. But by the time I fell asleep that night, he still hadn’t texted or called.

V had texted me that she was taking the first flight out of Seattle and would arrive in Anchorage at eight-thirty in the morning. I was excited to see her, even on this dreaded day, and then I realized it was the first time a smile had graced my lips since my night in the bar with Draven. And just as I thought of him, a reply text arrived.

Sorry for the late reply. Crazy night in the ER. I wish I could have done more. Please let me know if you need anything from me. I’m always here for you, and I love seeing you smile.

I read his text no less than ten times and debated if, in my six am, pre-coffee state, I was reading the words wrong.

I’m always here for you and love seeing you smile.

The moment I saw Valencia walk out the doors, I hurried out of my mom’s car, rounded the trunk, and flew myself into her arms.

“Thank you for coming.”

“I would have been here sooner if you’d let me.”

A tear slid down my cheek as I pulled apart from her. “I thought I could handle it.”

“Your father died. It’s okay to want help.”

I nodded and opened the trunk for her to put her suitcase in. “Thank you.”

On the way back to Burn Falls, I told V everything. From the attack to distracting myself with how hot my father’s doctor was, to the moment I watched my dad take his last breath. It surprised me that I didn’t cry as I relived everything, but my tears were dried up.

She smiled tightly as I pulled the car into the driveway. “I’m here to do whatever you need me to do.”

“Again, thank you.”

After V met my family, we went up to my room so she could unpack and we could get ready for the funeral. Even though she let me get dressed and do my makeup in silence, just knowing she was there was enough to give me hope that I could get through this day.

The sun glistened on the snow as we gathered at the grave site, an organist playing classical music to drown out the sniffling of our family and friends. Everyone was local because the only living relative my father had was his mother, and she was in her nineties and not able to travel from Ireland.

My brother was the first to pay tribute to my dad. “On behalf of my mom, myself, and my sisters, Calla and Betha, we’d like to thank you for joining us here today. My father was hard working, kind, and generous. He always had time for everyone despite his long hours at his distillery. He ran O’Bannion Burn, knowing he had a responsibility to the local community, and each and every employee was family to him, to us, and I think that shows with the number of people who have come here today. But to us, he was a devoted husband,” Alastair nodded over to Mom who began to sob, “and a loving father. He was our hero, and we’ll never forget him.” He struggled on his last words and took a moment to gather himself as my own tears streamed down my face. “We love you, Dad. Rest in peace, and I hope there’s a bar in heaven where you can have your O’Bannion Burn.”

He came to sit back beside us, and Mom enveloped him in her arms as he broke down.

It struck me that this was the end. This was the place I’d need to come to talk to him, to ask for his help like I had many times before. I also sobbed because he would never walk myself or Betha down the aisle when we got married nor see if Al carried out the O’Bannion name by having a son of his own.

Once we were back at the house, my mom’s friends and V took charge of the food, and I busied myself fixing drinks for anyone who wanted one. I knew it was part of the celebration of Dad’s life for people to be here, but I couldn’t wait for everyone to leave.

I was emotionally drained.

V was asleep the next morning when I woke and went downstairs for coffee. I’d expected everyone to still be asleep given the day before, but Mom was sitting on the couch surrounded by papers.

“Morning, Mom.”

“Morning, honey. Did you sleep okay?”

I shrugged. “The best I could, given the circumstances.”

Mom reached for her coffee and took a quick sip. “I’m glad you’re the first awake. I need to speak to you about something before your brother and sister come down.”

“Sure. Can I get a cup of coffee real quick?”

“Of course.”

After making a cup, I returned to the living room and sat next to her on the couch. “What is it you want to talk about?” I had no idea what it could be. Was she going to go back to her ways and degrade me for being overweight? Blame me for my father’s death again?

She took another sip of her coffee. “I want to apologize for all the hateful words I’ve said to you. I know it wasn’t your fault that your father was attacked or died.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ve been hard on you all these years because you’re my firstborn. I wanted you to settle down and start a family.”

“That can still happen.”

“I know it can. I just want to see you healthy and smiling like you used to do.”

“I think I’m going to start running again when I get back to Seattle.”

“Actually, that’s another thing I wanted to speak with you about. For as long as I can remember, your father had always said that he wanted you to take over OBB when he died—”

“I’m sure he was joking,” I stated.

Mother shook her head. “He wasn’t. And I know you have your life in Seattle, but I could really use your help here in Burn Falls. Alastair and Betha have many more years left of college, and there’s no way I can ask them to drop out. Your father wouldn’t want that.”

I stared at her speechless. “What are you saying?”

She placed her hand on my knee. “I’m meeting with our probate attorney after you leave to go back home, but I want you to stay. I want to give you OBB, and I want you to run it just like your father wanted.”

I stared at her speechless again.

“I know this is a lot to think about, but I can’t run the business. I have no clue what to do, and there’s no way I’ll ever sell it.”

“I wouldn’t let you sell it.”

“I could really use your help with everything now that your father’s gone. Would you consider moving home? You can stay here as long as you need to. I just … I just don’t think I can manage life alone.”

A tear slid down my cheek. “I need a little time to think it all over. I have my job back in—”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I wanted to mention it sooner rather than later. I know you’re going back on Sunday, but I wanted you to know that I need you.”

My mother had never told me that she needed me before. But was I ready to run a business? Become the heiress of O’Bannion Burn?