Chapter 4 #2
“Because she doesn’t want to leave.” Walter laughed.
“We’ve tried to let her go, but she wants to work.
It gives her purpose. So, she cooks, she does a little light housework—with the cleaning service that does the heavy lifting—and maybe some grocery shopping with Mom.
I think it makes Elsa feel like she’s needed, and we can afford to pay her.
Besides, she’s family. She has a job here for as long as she wants it.
Let’s eat.” Walter dug a fork into a waffle, set it on a plate, added some bacon, and pushed it in front of Riley.
“As I recall, this was always one of your favorite meals.”
“Still is.” She lathered up the waffle with butter and syrup, making sure to hit the bacon strips with a few drops of the sticky stuff.
She smiled at Walter. “Nothing beats Elsa’s cooking.
” She took a bite, letting it melt in her mouth, and savored not only the flavor, but the good memories that came out of this kitchen
And there were plenty. She’d practically grown up right on the very stool she’d planted her ass.
She’d come over during her elementary school days, eat this very breakfast, and watch Saturday morning cartoons with Bryson and his siblings because of the tension in her own home.
Back then, she hadn’t known that her parents weren’t happy. But she’d felt it.
Then there was Grant.
And Erin.
Riley was the baby of the family, and for whatever reason, she and her siblings had never gotten along very well.
Grant and Erin had always been close. They had a bond forged out of the simple fact that they were only a year apart, while Riley had been three years younger than Grant—four years younger than Erin.
Riley had been the interloper. As if those two were part of a private club and she didn’t know the secret handshake to get in.
Her mother used to tell her that if she’d stop being so bratty all the time, Grant and Erin would be nicer.
Kinder. Her father told her that, given time, they’d all grow out of it.
However, that had never happened—but she supposed it was because she’d left.
According to her mother, she’d never given her siblings a chance to become friends as adults.
Well, they’d been trying.
But that didn’t change the fact that for her entire childhood, they’d constantly reminded her that she’d been a mistake. An accident. The one unplanned child. Looking back, it hadn’t really been their fault. That idea had been planted in their brains by their mother.
Grant and Erin were following cues, which they always took from their mom.
Whenever Riley acted out, their mother would dramatically sigh, wave her hand, and make a comment about how Riley wasn’t even a surprise, but an utter shock.
Once, her mom had even told her that she’d contemplated her options.
Her dad never once called her a mistake or even suggested he’d never wanted her in any way. He’d always… just loved her.
God, how she missed him.
“You’re still on Patagonia time?” Devon asked. If he’d sensed where her mind had wandered, she had no idea, but she was grateful to shift to a lighter conversation.
“Sort of. Time difference isn’t too horrible. But my body’s confused, and I’m pretending I’m not.” She lifted a piece of bacon and stuffed it in her mouth. It tasted like a little piece of home.
“Classic Callahan stubbornness,” Bryson teased gently.
She shot him a look, but it was half-hearted.
The truth was, this felt… nice. Safer than she expected.
And for a few minutes, the conversation flowed around her like a current she could drift in.
Ashley updated everyone on her latest mishap with a raccoon the other morning when she’d gone to get the paper.
Hasley bemoaned the awful date she’d had last week.
Devon listened but constantly checked his phone.
Bryson laughed easily. Riley finished her breakfast and let herself forget for one rare moment that everything inside her was cracked.
Until Walter pushed his plate aside, rested his elbows against the counter, and said, “I’ve been thinking about your dad, Riley. His passing has left an emptiness in all of us.”
The air moved slightly. Not dramatically—just subtle enough that everyone shifted their gaze toward Walter.
“Grant told me that he worried about Dad. He was always tired. Erin agreed and also said that our mom mentioned that my father had complained of shortness of breath lately,” Riley said carefully. “But my dad never said anything to me.”
“He didn’t say anything to us, either.” Walter shook his head.
“Sean was private. Always had been. However, he and I have been friends since grade school, and we’ve shared a lot over the years.
I’d like to believe that if he’d been ill, he would’ve confided in me.
But, I’ll admit he’d been acting a little strange the last few weeks. ”
“I’ve learned that my dad often kept a lot of things to himself, like knowing about my mother’s affair,” she said quietly, even though she’d always been able to speak freely in the Boone residence.
“Walter told us about the problems he’d been having with your mom long before they got divorced,” Brea added softly. “We’ve been friends a long time. He stood up for us at our wedding.”
“I’m really not surprised my father would confide in you.” Riley palmed her mug. “Over the years, he did fill me in on the issues. It’s not like I didn’t sense they were unhappy. But I also didn’t know the details.”
“I’ve known your mom a long time.” Brea smiled.
“She often forgets we grew up on the same side of town. I don’t mean to speak badly of her, but she wanted Sean to be something he wasn’t, and money, prestige, and power have long been things she desired.
Things Parker has been able to provide—and he’s a good and kind man. ”
“I do like Parker. He’s always been nice to me.
” Riley let out a dry chuckle. “But my mother and I have always struggled. She wanted me to be some sweet little girl who wore cute pink dresses, patent leather shoes, and pretty clips in her curly hair, like my sister. Not some wild tomboy who preferred to crush grapes with my bare feet during harvest with this guy.” She jerked her thumb at Bryson.
“She’d always complain my feet were purple for weeks. ”
“And she’d call us, griping about it, telling us you weren’t allowed to play with Bryson anymore.” Walter sighed. “It was always a delicate dance, and I’m sorry if we caused you any grief at home.”
“You never did. It was just always that way,” Riley said.
“But something was going on with Sean,” Bryson said, setting down his mug.
“I don’t think it was his health. He’d been distracted lately, but he was still sharp.
And the day before he died…” He looked over at Riley.
“Well, we never did get the chance to have that chat. I have no idea what it was about, but he mentioned it was personal.”
Riley’s stomach tightened. “Personal? Did he say anything else?”
“No, but it felt urgent.” Bryson hesitated. “Now, I can’t stop wondering what he didn’t get the chance to say.”
Brea reached out and placed her hand over Riley’s. “None of this is to upset you, sweetheart. We all cared about Sean. He was a good man. If he had something to share, I believe it mattered.”
Riley’s throat grew dry. “Thank you. I… I’ve had this feeling.
That something was unfinished as well. During our last few phone conversations, I heard a tension in his voice.
I asked him, and he said it was nothing for me to worry about.
I actually called my sister to see if she knew.
We got into one of our usual fights about me abandoning the family.
About turning my back on everyone. I suppose she’s not wrong in some ways. ”
“I’m certainly not going to sit here in judgment of your decisions. You did what you needed to do for yourself. No one can fault you for that,” Walter said gently. “This will be a difficult time for you and your family. But know that we’re always here if you need us.”
The fact that Bryson had told his father about the baby—their baby—sent an unexpected pang of guilt, sorrow, and regret through her. She’d carried that loss alone for so long, she’d almost forgotten it belonged to both of them.
There was a long silence, broken only by the soft buzz of Devon’s cell phone. He jumped right out of his chair. “Sorry,” he muttered, tapping his screen. “Excuse me. I need to take this.” He stepped from the kitchen.
“Dad,” Bryson said behind clenched teeth. “He’s not talking to Emery Tate, is he?
“Not the time or place. We’ll talk about it later.” Walter arched brow. “Sorry about that, Riley. Were you going to say something else?”
She glanced between the two men, wondering what that was all about, but it wasn’t her business.
“I’m concerned about the whole autopsy thing,” she managed.
“When I last spoke to Grant about it, he said they were still waiting for the ME to make a decision. I could hear my mother in the background whispering about it, and Grant feeding off that. The thing is, my dad really did have an aversion to being cut open. But I’m still confused as to why it’s just not being done. ”
“I don’t know a lot about how these things work, but I suppose when a family member, or the deceased doesn’t want one, I would think, unless there’s a specific reason for it, the ME could honor that,” Walter said, leaning back, crossing his arms over his chest. “And even though Grant tossed a ridiculous accusation at Bryson, I don’t believe the police are taking that seriously.
” Walter's gaze steadied on her, something understanding in his eyes. “But everyone handles grief differently, and there’s no right or wrong way to deal with the death of a loved one. They’re hurting same as you. ”
“If he voiced his suspicion, I suspect they’d have to look into it,” Bryson said.