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“It’s your mom, Tricia,” he replied quietly. The look of heartbreak on his face told me it was bad news.
Everything stopped. My heart—my breathing—him talking. The silence lasted a second or two, and in the space inside my head it had sounded deafening, until I heaved a deep breath and my heartbeat pounded in my chest when I exhaled.
“My mom?” I questioned, sounding flat, unfeeling, and if I’m honest, totally agitated at the thought she’d done something else to hurt me. What has she done now? It would have been typical of her to have created a distraction from the real matter at hand.
“Let’s sit down,” James coaxed. His soft placating tone did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest as he ushered me toward the bedroom and sat me down on the bed.
“Now you’re really scaring me,” I mumbled, searching his face for the answer as to why he’d been so eager to pull me out from the shower.
“Your dad woke up this morning and your mom was still in bed. I guess she usually got up before him, but…”
“Are you saying she’s dead?” I blurted, frustrated that James appeared to be talking so much, yet not saying anything at all. It suddenly made sense why James had struggled to find words.
“Yeah, baby… she passed in her sleep.” The look of pain in James’ eyes filled me with anger.
“Fuck,” I spat, rushing to my feet. “How dare she,” I replied, irrationally, “this is classic of how desperate she’s been not to face the music. Sure, the mess was mine to begin with, but the rest has been down to her and her fucking secrets. Now, I’m the one who is left alone to face the wrath of my dad and Marnie for helping her hide the decision she made.”
For a solid minute I paced the floor rambling, the towel having slipped from my body until James wrapped me in his arms and hugged me tight to his chest.
“Tricia, come on. Let’s go and sit down. You’re in shock,” he said quietly, trying to instil some calm into me.
“Shock? I’m fucking livid,” I remarked, roughly rubbing my forehead, like that could have somehow erased what he’d told me. “Don’t you realize, James? Whatever I say now, Marnie and my dad will think I’m being malicious because they’ll only have my side of the story. I can hear them now, ‘Don’t speak ill of the dead, Tricia. You should have more respect for your mom’.”
“Sitting room, now, Tricia,” James snapped, and my gaze immediately locked into his. Sobered by his sharp tone, I blinked, stunned and confused because he had raised his voice toward me, but when he did my mind went blank.
Taking me to the couch, James sat me down beside him and pulled me back into his arms. As soon as he hugged me, I felt safe, despite the shocking news I’d received.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, but you looked on the verge of hysteria. That was Marnie who called. Your dad called her at 6:00 this morning and she went straight over to their house. Your dad called 911 when he couldn’t wake your mom and then he called Marnie. She said when she arrived at 7:00, the paramedics were leaving, and they told her your mom had likely been dead for several hours before your father made the call. He’s heartbroken, she said. Naturally, Marnie sounded shaken. I told her we’d go down there later this morning.”
“You have meetings all—”
“Forget them. I’m not going to work. You need me more than my job. I’m not leaving you. Rhea can take care of things, she’s more than capable. Anything that needs to be signed off can be couriered down to New Jersey or over to my father. I’ll bring him up to speed later. Now, will you be okay to get dressed?”
I nodded, and he kissed my temple, his studious eyes searched my face for signs to reassure himself. “Okay, baby, just take it easy. I’ll make a couple of calls and go pack a weekend bag for you. We’ve got most things at your place anyway, it’s just the paperwork on the office table, right?” I nodded again and wondered why the hell a man like James was still with me. Since we’d gotten together all he had to deal with was grief.
As James stowed our paperwork in our separate briefcases, I went back to the bedroom and rummaged through my underwear drawer for a matching thong to a bra to put on. I had felt hyper-focused on that task because it had been hard to concentrate on anything in that moment, and I knew without something to do I’d have fallen to pieces. Pulling on my underwear, my body locked in shock. Why did she die? Was it my fault she had died?
Willing myself to focus, I shook the thought off and zipped up the jeans I’d pulled on, and my thoughts turned to my poor father. They had been married for over fifty odd years. No matter what I thought of my mom, the last thing I had ever wanted was for my father to be left alone.
“All set?” James asked, shoving open the bedroom door. Flashing me a small sympathetic smile he held out a hand. “Let’s go, baby, you got this.”
Chapter Seven
For the best part of an hour I cried, for my mom, my dad, myself … and for Erin. There had been so many thoughts in my head they ended up drowning each other out. James drove to the speed limits on the I-95 and as the interstate traffic had been steady the journey down to New Jersey had felt quicker than usual. I’d missed most of it locked down in sorrow.
“God, I’m a mess.”
“No, you’re stronger for crying, Tricia. You had me scared back at the apartment. You were so angry. Now we’re here, you can be stronger for your father. He’ll need all the emotional support you can give him to get through the next few days and months ahead.”
“Since you’ve been with me, I’ve been nothing but trouble,” I mumbled, feeling unworthy of all his attention. I felt tired of being miserable, facing shit from my life I had no control over, and if I felt like that, how the hell James had stuck with me and still loved me the same had felt beyond my comprehension.
Walking into the house, it had immediately felt different, and I realized how intimidated coming home had been in the past. As weird as it sounded, I felt less anxious knowing Mom wouldn’t be there. Marnie was making coffee when we entered the kitchen, and the moment she saw me, her face crumpled up in grief, and she cried.
“It’s okay,” I soothed, rubbing her back as she clung tightly to me. Franco came into the kitchen and shook James’ hand.
“Died in her bed,” he informed James, even though James had taken the call from my sister. “Last way I expected her to go. Probably pissed her off she never went out in a blaze of glory.” James looked awkward and glanced out toward the patio through the window, but I didn’t miss the smirk teasing his lips. Trust Franco to say what none of us had thought to think.
“Let me go to Dad,” I said, as I pulled out of Marnie’s embrace and made my way through to the sitting room. Dad was staring out the window, lost in thought when I wandered over to him.
