Chapter 3
”I”m sorry for your loss,”I hear mumbled as yet another person shakes my hand, giving me a soft, sympathetic smile and then moving on, before reaching for Aunt Nicola”s hand and doing the same with hers.
It”s been three days since Mam died. Three days of living in absolute pain-filled hell. I”ve never felt the loss of someone, and to have Mam be the first person, it came unexpectedly and packed a punch like I”ve never experienced.
If I could, I would have skipped today and stayed holed up in my bedroom, a place in which I”ve spent the past three days. I”ve cried, screamed, and broken down more times than I can count. I feel like I”m drowning in the depths of this grief. And yet among the pain and sadness, there”s hope. Hope that this is all wrong and that Mam will walk through the front door at any moment with that beautiful, happy smile of hers. It”s crazy. But isn”t that what happens when you”re swallowed up by pain and grief—you lose every semblance of reality?
I know she”s dead. God, I”ve seen it. We held the viewing in our living room only last night. I saw the coldness of her face, the lifelessness of her body. It was my first viewing of a dead body. It”s an Irish Catholic tradition. We lay the dead out and people pay their respects. I didn”t want it at home. I didn”t want my last memory of my mam, the woman who was my everything, to be of her dead and lying in a casket. But Dad shut me down and insisted it was happening as there were people who wanted to pay their respects and we had to do it at home.
Bastard.
A shadow looms over me, and I lift my head. I pull in a sharp breath when I”m greeted by the darkest brown eyes I”ve ever seen. The way those dark eyes watch me makes me swallow hard. ”I”m sorry for your loss, Jessica,” the man says.
I blink. ”Thank you,” I whisper, unsure how he knows me.
”Your ma was a good woman,” he tells me.
I nod, giving him a soft smile. ”Aye, she was one of the best. Thank you for coming.”
His thumb slides across my palm and my stomach clenches, my heart races, and my eyes widen. What on earth is happening to me?
”Stephen,” I hear Nicola say from beside me, and the man nods, giving me a grin before letting go of my hand. ”Thank you for coming,” Nicola says as she rises from her seat and pulls him in for a hug.
I stare at the man. I have no idea what happened, nor do I understand the way my body reacted to him.
Who is he?
”Honey,” Nicola says as she sits back down, the man continuing on down the line. ”Are you okay?”
I shake my head. ”What happens now?” I ask. ”You know what Dad”s like.”
She sighs, anger flashing in her blue eyes. It was so hard to see Nicola last night, especially with Mam laid out in the casket, as Mam and Nicola are twins. Seeing them in the same room, one dead, the other alive, it affected me deeply, so much so I couldn”t stay downstairs for long.
”Honey, you know you”re always welcome to stay with me if you need some space from Thomas. You”re my niece, Jessie. You”re always welcome with us.”
I nod, grateful that she”s offering, but I also know I can”t take her up on it. Being this close to her when she reminds me so much of Mam is very hard. I”m struggling so much not to cry. I don”t think I could spend much time with her. It would be too hard.
”Who was that man?” I ask her.
”Stephen?” she asks with a raised brow.
I nod. I”ve heard that name before. He”s a family friend. He’s really close with my cousin Callie. They”ve been friends since they were kids. Mam and Dad kept me away from them, more so my dad than Mam. There”s a ten year age gap between Callie and myself, so other than family functions, I”m not really around them all.
”He was just paying his respects, Jessie, honey. He”s not a man you need to worry about.”
”Why, is he bad?” I ask, knowing that most of the men who work for Uncle Jer are bad, especially my dad.
”Honey, we don”t need to talk about this. Right now, I”m worried about you. You”re not letting anyone in. You and Jer were so close. What happened?”
That”s a sure fire way for me to wonder what the hell is wrong with him. Aunt Nicola is usually so sweet about everyone, but with Stephen, she”s extremely closed-lipped, which is weird.
I turn my head. Right now, I don”t want to talk about Uncle Jerry and what happened. Dad told me why Mam”s dead, and then yesterday, while we were mourning Mam in her open casket, he walked into our home with two of the Kelly sons. I couldn”t believe my eyes. I don”t understand why he would do that. Does he not care that Mam”s dead and those monsters are responsible? But what I don’t get is why no one else has a problem with it. Why no one cares that he’s doing business with the men who killed my mam.
”Jess—”
”I”m tired,” I whisper, cutting her off. I don”t want to talk about it. ”I just want this day to be over.”
She slides her arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. ”I know, honey,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. ”I do too. We”re going to get through it. Sometimes we have to let others help us. You have to lean on us.”
It”s hard to do that when you feel alone. I don”t have anyone I”m able to lean on. Nicola”s too close to what I”ve lost. It”s so very hard to be around her. Doing so hurts so very much. And Uncle Jer... God, that man has no loyalty. It”s clear to see why he”s such a great businessman. As for Dad, well, the man”s never liked me. I”ve always been a thorn in his side.
The priest starts the ceremony and I close my eyes, letting his words filter through my mind. Images after images of Mam and I dance through my brain. Tears slowly fall from my eyes, and I duck my head, hoping no one will see them. I hate that there”re so many people here, so many to witness the pain and grief we”re all going through. But I get it. Mam was a social butterfly. She got along with everyone. She was loved by those she was friends with and she never did anything to harm anyone.
The ceremony goes on and I stay rooted to my seat, my body trembling as silent tears fall from my eyes.
”Quit it,” Dad snarls. ”Christ, Jessica, you”re a fucking disgrace. There”s no need to cry. Just fucking stop.”
I pull in a ragged breath at his reprimand. God, I hate him so much. Why is he such a bastard? I don”t get what I”ve done for him to hate me so much. It has to be that I merely exist. That is the only thing I can think of.
My shoulders are tense as I sit up straighter and try my hardest to stop crying.
Thankfully, the ceremony doesn”t last much longer. There”s only a little while left. Just the burial, and then I can crawl back into my bed and spend the rest of the day in there. I can cry out the pain and not have to worry about my dad being a fucker and complaining about it.
Dad gets to his feet and reaches for my hand. I hesitate slightly to take it, but the narrowing of his eyes is enough for me to know that I need to take it and not make a sound. To anyone watching, it looks like a doting father looking after his daughter, but it”s so far from that. The tight grip he has on my hand is painful. If he squeezes any harder, I have no doubt he”ll break some bones. He keeps a hold of my hand as we walk out of the church. Everyone”s eyes are on us, but there”s a heated gaze that pulls me from the pain of my father”s hold. I glance in the direction it’s coming from, my gaze colliding with Stephen”s.
The man”s watching me with a predatory gaze, his eyes narrowed and intense. I”ve never met someone so unnerving before, but there”s something about him that makes me wonder what the hell is wrong with him. Other than the intenseness of his stare, and the way his stance screams stay away, there”s a deeply troubled darkness around him, one that should frighten me. Staring into those dark eyes of his, I have a feeling that I”m staring at the devil, and I have no idea why.
”Stay the fuck away from Stephen Maguire,” Dad hisses as we exit the church. ”You need to learn your place, Jessica. You”re fourteen years old. You need to learn that you are a child.”
”I haven”t done anything wrong,” I reply, trying my hardest to keep the anger out of my voice. Dad doesn”t do well with being challenged. He”s of the opinion that he should be the only one calling the shots, and to have that authority questioned or to even question him, is the wrong thing to do.
The grip he has on my hand is painful, so much so that I wince as he continues to squeeze. ”You don”t answer me back,” he snaps. ”You don”t fucking ever answer me back.”
I nod. ”I”m sorry,” I whimper. ”Please, Dad, don”t break my hand.”
”You”re fucking lucky we”re in public,” he snaps. ”I”d fucking break it and I”d laugh while I did. You”re going home after this. I don”t want to see you while I go to the wake.”
”Okay,” I breathe, thankful I don”t have to put up an act and pretend that I”m okay. I want to be alone.
”Now, no more of your crap. I”ve got enough to deal with today without having your bullshit too.”
”I”m sorry,” I whisper.
”Oh, Jess,” I hear a soft voice say from behind me. ”Are you okay?”
I turn and see my cousin walking toward me. Her soft, blue-ish silvery eyes are so pretty and mesmerizing. I know that when she”s around, I”m safe. She”s so very much like her father, rather than our mams. She”s been busy. She”s not long given birth to twins herself and is dealing with the pain she went through last year at the hands of her husband”s ex-wife. Not to mention, she”s now also a step-mam to three other children, one of which is my best friend, Chloe.
”I”m okay,” I promise her.
But Callie, being the sweet and caring person that she is, pulls me into her arms and holds me close.
”You ever need anything, Jess, just call me, okay? You want to spend the night, you can, anytime you want.”
God, my family is amazing, but I know Dad won”t allow it to happen. He won”t want anyone to take care of me.
Callie”s fingers brush through my hair as she holds me tight. ”It”s got to be hard,” she whispers. ”Looking at Mam when she looks so, so similar to Aunt Patty.”
I nod. ”Yeah,” I whisper softly.
”It”ll all be okay,” she promises me. ”No matter what, it”ll all be okay.”
”We”ve got to go,” Nicola says, coming over to us. ”Are you ready?”
I take a deep breath and pull back from Callie. Am I ready for my mam to be buried? No. No, I”m not. But I don”t have a choice. I need to say my goodbyes and then I”m going home. I need to be alone. I may even go to the dance hall and get rid of some of the anger and hurt I have bottled up.
”Come on, Jess,” Callie says, taking my hand. ”We”ll say goodbye together.”
Tears once again fall down my face. I don”t want to bury her. I don”t want to say goodbye. I don”t want to do any of it.
Callie”s hand tightens around mine. ”I”ve got you,” she whispers as we start to walk behind the cars toward the cemetery.
I have no choice. I”ll regret not saying goodbye.
I just wish I didn”t have to do this at all.