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“Thank you. He was a stubborn old bastard. Had two strokes before but he wouldn’t give up his beer or fried food. At seventy-five, you can’t blame him much, I reckon.” His brother looks to be in his seventies at least. He looks up at Arlow and rubs his rheumy eyes. “He was really fond of you. Looked forward to your dinners every week.”
Arlow nods, his eyes welling up too. “He was a hell of a guy. I’ll miss him.” Harvey runs up, nosing his way between us. “Do you need someone to take Harvey?”
“No.” He slaps his leg and Harvey trots over to him. “We’ll get along okay, I reckon.”
Arlow lays a hand on my shoulder. “Can you give us a minute, please?”
“Of course.” I swallow the lump in my throat and regard Larry. “If there’s anything you need or anything we can do, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
I return to the warmth of the car while Arlow takes a seat on the porch beside Larry. They talk for a few minutes before Arlow shakes his hand and walks back to me. I shift the food we brought to my backseat. It looks sad now. Earl won’t get his beloved hushpuppies.
I lean over and hug Arlow as soon as he gets into the car. “I’m so sorry.”
He hugs me back. “Thanks. It wasn’t unexpected, you know, with his age and health but still.”
“I know. Is there anything we can do?”
“That’s what I was talking to Larry about. He said they weren’t holding a funeral, and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t because of financial constraints. It turns out Earl was adamant about that. He told his brother that funerals are morbid and stupid, and people should spend their time focusing on life not crying over worm food.” His lips twitch. “That’s a direct quote.”
“That sounds like him.”
“Come on. Let’s go home.”
Arlow is quiet the rest of the evening. He doesn’t want to talk and retreats to the corner chair with his drawing pad, but I stay nearby, a silent presence to make sure he doesn’t feel alone. It isn’t until we go to bed that he’s ready to talk.
We lie facing one another and he rests his forehead on my shoulder. “The coroner said he’d probably been dead for a week before Larry found him. I may have been the last one to see him when I visited last Thursday. I should’ve checked on him more often.”
“Hey.” I cup his chin and lift his head. The sight of his reddened eyes raises tears in mine. “You were a good friend to him. This isn’t your fault.” He nods, and I wrap my arms around him. We hold each other as I run my hand up and down his back.
“I don’t want that to be me.” Torment permeates the words of his confession. “The thought of being alone for all those years. So alone that no one even fucking knows I’m dead for a week.” He pulls in a deep breath, fighting to keep his composure.
Of course he would see similarities between them. Earl may not have chosen a solitary life. For all I know, he simply outlived most of his family and friends, but it comes to the same in the end.
I cradle Arlow’s face in my hands and look him in the eye. “That’s not going to happen. Listen to me. You’re loved. No matter how much you’ve isolated yourself from your family, they love you. Distance doesn’t change that. I know you want to protect them…and me, but that’s not how it works.”
“I don’t want to do that to anyone, leave them to hurt for me.”
“I know.” He’s tearing my heart out. His anguish is palpable. To feel such guilt over letting people love him is terrible. “But that’s the price we all pay to love each other. Love and grief are braided together. We don’t get to choose between them or optout of either. That’s life. You’ll hurt for your friend now, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have let you in.” I brush my thumb over his cheek. “You’re afraid to be loved, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it or that you can avoid it. You aren’t alone. There are people who love you whether you like it or not.”
The words that want to follow are held tight behind my lips. He doesn’t want to hear that I love him, and this isn’t the time. He falls asleep in my arms, and I hope I’ve managed to give him even a fraction of the comfort he brings me.
CHAPTER 29
ARLOW
Today isthe day we’ve been waiting for and dreading. It’s been a week and the deadline scrawled onto the note has come. Despite being on edge, the time has passed without any further trouble. More than anything, I want to think they’ve given up. That they saw we ignored their instructions and called the police, but that feels too good to be true.
Calli has stayed right by my side the way I asked her to, but I’m already afraid of the day when our internet is restored, and she returns to her cabin. I’ll never trust she’s safe. What’s the alternative? That she moves? I’m sure she’s considering it though she hasn’t mentioned it to me again.
My head is all over the place, especially since Earl’s death. He warned me not to end up like him, but I didn’t realize how alone he really was until now. It has me seriously rethinking everything. I’m torn between what’s right and what my heart desperately wants—the beautiful, caring woman asleep upstairs.
A sharp knock at the door drives me to my feet, and I touch my gun, reminding myself it’s in its holster before looking out the peephole to see two officers.
“Mr. Shaw.” Officer Anderson nods at me. “We have some follow up questions for you and Ms. Barnes.” I’m disappointedto see that Officer Fulton accompanies him. The same one who wouldn’t listen to Calli before.
“Come on in.” They follow me back to my kitchen where I gesture for them to have a seat at the table, then sit across from them. “Calli isn’t available at the moment, but what can I do for you? Have you traced the account number to a name?”
