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ABANDONING CONTROL
When it came time for Chance and her to arrive for Adam Young’s funeral, he informed her that it was going to be a short service for close friends and family only. Most of the Cantil had decided to turn their backs on Adam for his betrayal, except for the few people he was friends with. Mykie shied away from their hateful gazes, knowing that they blamed her just as much as Chance for their friend’s death.
She almost didn’t attend with Chance, fearing that it would further advance the ideas she had heard floating around the Pit. That she purposely targeted Adam because she wanted his position. She had asked Ryker to attend the service with her, but she hadn’t seen or heard from him since he left her apartment two days before. She assumed he had been busy before he had to spend the day with his family. If it wasn’t for Chance’s reassurance that Ryker disappeared like that sometimes, she would have been worried.
They stood back from the grieving family, giving them their space. Adam had very few friends in his life outside the Cantil, and it was evident from the one or two people Mykie didn’t recognize standing on the outskirts of the family, as well.
Mykie was conflicted. Every part of her body told her to run to Jezebeth and hold her tightly, but the more rational side to her told her the idea was stupid. Dexter was with her, and she would make it through without Mykie.
She watched Jezebeth lean her head on her sister's shoulder. She was dressed in all black, which was not odd for the green-haired girl. What was odd, however, was that she was without her Cantil jacket. Mykie could not remember the last time she saw the other girl without it, but she understood why she wouldn’t want to wear the symbol for the moment.
Meredith, while two years younger than Jezebeth, was taller than her sister. Her long, black-haired made her funeral attire look all the more miserable. However, Mykie hadn't seen her shed a tear since the time she arrived at the service. She knew that the youngest Young sister never got along with her father, but the man didn't deserve a tearless sendoff from his daughter.
Juliet Young was the only one who continued to weep for the man. She constantly had a tissue to her face throughout church service and the burial. Mykie wanted to hold the woman and comfort her for her loss. She didn’t know who her husband was involving himself with, or that he betrayed both of his families. To see the woman so devastated made Mykie want to dig up the man, revive him, and kill him again for risking himself and losing his family.
Mykie and Chance stayed until the Youngs had decided to leave. As Juliet led her children past the duo, Jezebeth avoided eye contact with Mykie. Mykie wanted to reach out and pull her aside to apologize; to do anything to get her to talk to her.
Dexter came up beside Mykie and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“She’ll come around. Continue to give her space, or you’ll both end up regretting the things you might say to each other,” he said in his gentle, but deeply reassuring tone.
“Keep an eye on her and talk to her, please. I can’t lose her,” Mykie pleaded.
His expression hardened. “I won’t let her slip through my fingers. She’s angry at the world right now, but I don’t think she knows what to do about it. I won’t let her do anything rash.”
“Thank you, Dex,” she whispered. “You’re a good guy for looking out for her.”
He dropped his hand from her shoulder, making her turn to look at him. "Just because I'm not around right now doesn't mean I don't see you. I know she's your friend, but you can't live for her right now. Before this, I hadn't seen you look so content to live in the moment instead of living for the next job in a long time. This is only a little speed bump, and everything else will be back on track before you know it."
Mykie took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. How did he always know exactly what she wanted and needed to hear?
“Remember to take care of yourself.” Dexter gave her one last nod before taking off after the Young family.
Mykie caught something flash out of the corner of her eye. She looked around for a moment, trying to find the culprit. She was sure it was someone with a camera, but who would be morbid enough to take pictures in a cemetery?
"Are you alright?" Chance asked.
"Yeah," she murmured, watching the woods behind her for a sign of where the flash came from. "I think I'm just seeing things."
"It's definitely been a long day. Are you ready to go eat now?" he asked, bumping her in the shoulder with his.
She nodded. It was unfortunate, but the funeral had fallen on the same day as Thanksgiving. She was sure that the Young family wouldn't be taking part in the family holiday this year nor would they for the next few years. Chance and Mykie, on the other hand, would be going back to his house to help his fiancée, Melody, with dinner.
Mykie got in the passenger seat of Chance's truck, and they drove the few minute drive from the cemetery to the middle of the city again. Chance lived at the dead-end of a road only a few blocks around the corner from where Mykie's apartment was.
When Mykie walked back into her childhood home, she was immediately hit with the scent of cooking. The place was much neater than she'd ever seen it when she was living there, but Mykie knew that was more Melody's influence than Chance seeing the error in his messy ways.
When her parents died, Chance had moved into her house after it was left to him in her father's will until Mykie turned eighteen. At the time, he was a clueless eighteen-year-old that had no clue how to manage a house or take care of himself, much less a kid. It was rough for a while for the two of them to understand what life was going to look like from then on, but Chance made their house into a home again for her, and for that, she was thankful to him. He never made her feel awkward or like he was trying to replace her dad, but she couldn't help but remember sometimes that he was in the fathering role for longer than she remembered her dad being a father.
The smell of cooking as soon as she was in the living room almost covered up the smell of the cigarettes Chance smoked in the house. He used to always smoke outside and when Mykie asked him once why, he said that he didn’t want to ruin a house that wasn’t really his. When Mykie was eighteen, she told him to keep it and to do what he wanted. It was just as much his home as it was hers. The next time he invited her over for dinner, he lit a cigarette in the house.
“Is that you, Chance?” Melody popped her brunette head around the corner of the kitchen doorway before she came out.
Much like Chance, Melody was old enough to be an older sister to Mykie. She was barely twelve years older than Mykie and it wasn't likely for her to fall into a mothering role for the ashy blonde. Chance had met the young brunette woman three years ago on the rare moment that he did his own business negotiations. She was a secretary for a lumber company on the outskirts of the city and Chance quickly took a liking to her.
“Yes, and Mykie,” Chance answered.
"Good. I was hoping it was you two," she said in a soft voice. She held her hand out toward them. "You can help me mash the potatoes, Mykie. That's all that's left still once Chance takes the turkey out."
