Chapter 16 Olivia
OLIVIA
The early spring air was crisp as I watched the pallbearers set my uncle’s casket on the lowering mechanism. Flowers of every color decorated the white tent covering the burial site. It was only a fraction of what was brought over from the actual ceremony.
Honestly, I had no idea what we’d do with all of them. It seemed like a waste, especially when I couldn’t fathom taking a single bloom home.
Today wasn’t one I wanted to look back and remember.
My brother turned his back to the casket, and I saw tears shining in his eyes. Duke, who graciously agreed to be one of my uncle’s pallbearers at Luke’s request, clapped him on the shoulder. They mumbled something to one another, but I averted my gaze, not trusting myself to keep my composure.
Instead, I stared down at my feet. They’d grown numb hours ago during the drawn-out funeral service as countless members of the community and the board of directors eulogized my uncle.
He would’ve hated the whole affair if he were still alive, but how was I supposed to tell people they couldn’t pay their respects to a man who was so universally loved?
Lukas took the seat next to mine, but neither of us spoke.
There wasn’t much left to say. We had been barraged with condolences all day, which, despite the lovely sentiments, left me feeling drained.
Regardless of how well I’d been trained to hide my true feelings in public, there were only so many times I could force a polite smile and thank people for coming by to pay their respects.
Charlie’s presence was the only thing keeping me centered.
I tightened my hold on her hand, squeezing gently when I heard her quietly sobbing.
Tears streamed down my daughter’s face. I pulled her into me, draping an arm around her shoulders.
Grady and Cleo were on her other side, both wearing matching red-rimmed expressions, staring straight ahead as the pastor spoke.
Though I could feel her gaze on me, I ignored my mother’s presence at the end of the aisle. Just like I’d been ignoring her for the past week and a half since John’s death.
The calls began the day after and were easy enough to ignore.
I added it to the list of things I’d been avoiding since Lukas carried my limp body into his guest house and let me rest in the stillness of the dying daylight.
The voicemails that followed were drunken tirades.
Harsh accusations and questions about what was going to happen to the company and if I was going to burn everything my family built to the ground for my own selfish desires.
After the first three, I blocked her number.
I thought that put an end to it but then the knocking started.
I ignored it still, trying to focus on planning John’s funeral between meetings with the Hartstrings board.
Then the knocking turned into pounding. Lukas had to come down and drag her away from the cottage at one in the morning, only two days ago.
Every day was something new. It was why I refused to leave the cottage to eat dinner with them at Lukas’s house, why I ignored Duke every night when he dropped off a plate just for me. Why I’d almost ignored him the day he came by with flowers.
I almost threw them out in an angry rage just because it was the only thing I had control over. They’d been in my hand, hovering over the trash can, before I set them back on the counter and crumpled to the floor in shame. I didn’t deserve them. Didn’t deserve his kindness either.
What killed me most was the relief I felt at seeing him standing on my doorstep, looking so goddamn nervous. And then I hated myself for adding to his pain, knowing he was grieving my uncle just as much as the rest of us were.
I was no stranger to death or grief, but losing John was different than my father. Though both tragic in their own ways, my uncle had become the father I chose. He spent the past twenty-two years of his life ensuring neither Lukas nor I ever felt as though we weren’t loved and supported.
It was much more than my mother did, choosing to check out when we needed her most.
I glanced down at Charlie and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
This was her first dance with death. While I’d hoped to shield her from it as long as I could, it snuck up on us anyway.
We all thought we had more time with John.
The doctors said months, but those months turned into weeks at best, and now we were sitting at a funeral surrounded by a sea of black coats and dresses.
The massive crowds at both the funeral home and the burial site were testaments to how loved he was. How many lives he touched. More people spoke at the gravesite service, but I didn’t remember what they said.
As the pastor asked everyone to stand, the first tear I’d shed all day slipped free. I quickly wiped it away before anyone could notice, finding myself wishing it were the brush of Duke’s fingertips instead.
Everyone lined up to give their final condolences.
One by one, I saw faces I recognized. Faces that had rallied together to make sure today went as smoothly as possible.
Lucy, who closed the diner to cater the celebration-of-life gathering at Lukas’s house after the burial.
Margaret hadn’t hesitated to order thousands of dollars’ worth of flowers when I called.
Even Too Drunk Johnny was standing at the back of the crowd, sober for the first time in my life—though something told me he wouldn’t stay like that for long.
By the time Duke and Harper made it to us, the burial site was nearly empty.
People loitered by their cars, their sorrowful glances back at us a reminder we were still being watched.
Lukas’ tears fell freely when they walked up.
Duke clapped his shoulder before pulling my brother into a hug.
Though I couldn’t make out what they were saying, Lukas squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head before they separated.
And then Duke was standing in front of me, green gaze swimming with unshed tears. Somehow, I knew he was holding them at bay for me. I wasn’t sure I would’ve been able to contain myself if I saw them fall. I wasn’t that strong. Not anymore.
I gave him a watery smile, voice wavering as I spoke. “Thank you for coming, and for”—I gestured toward the scene behind him—“agreeing to be a pallbearer. He would’ve loved that.”
The longer Duke stood there, the harder it was to keep my composure. I needed him to move. To stop staring at me with such sorrow and grief, or else I was going to lose it right here and now. There was only so much I could take, and I was already at my limit.
“Honey…” His voice was low, cautious, as he reached out and pulled me to his chest. Everything in me crumbled at that one single word.
It was like the breaking of a dam. I let myself go, unable to keep him at arm’s length any longer.
My hands found their way around his waist as I clung to him like a life raft on turbulent waters.
When the first sob broke free, I couldn’t stop myself from sinking completely into his embrace.
This wasn’t the time or place for such a display, but that didn’t stop us.
I was so tired of being strong for everyone else.
Tired of pushing everything to the side as I carefully treaded around their grief as though it mattered more than mine.
All I’d wanted since that day was to call Duke and ask him to come over.
To hold me. To press another kiss to my forehead like he had when he pushed his way into my house only days ago.
“He’s gone,” I whispered into Duke’s chest. “He’s gone, and I don’t know what to do.”
“I know, honey…” he said, cupping the back of my head with a large, warm hand.”I know. I’m here.”
My eyes were closed, but my family’s curious gazes burned a hole in my back as they stared. There would be questions later. Questions I wasn’t sure even had answers, but that was a problem for future Olivia, because I didn’t plan on letting go of Duke anytime soon.
“Where’s your car?” Duke asked, letting his hand trail down my back in soothing circles.
“I can drive,” I began to protest, but stopped the moment he placed his finger beneath my chin and tilted my head up until I was staring up at him.
“Let me take care of you. Where’s your car?”
My throat worked, full of grief and other emotions I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt before.
How could this man I’d grown up with have suddenly become one of the most important people in my life in less than a month?
What did that say about me, that I turned to him in my grief rather than my friends? “I’m parked by Lukas.”
Duke looked toward Lukas, who pointed toward the cemetery’s entry gates. Then he glanced at Grady. “I assume you’re going to the house?”
Grady nodded. “I’ll take her SUV, and Cleo will drive my truck.”
I was vaguely aware of them making plans, talking about moving over Charlie’s booster seat to Duke’s truck, but instead of pushing them away and telling them I’d handle it, I let them take care of me.
“Come on, honey.” Duke wrapped his arm around my shoulders, never letting me go as we walked toward his truck.
Charlie’s hand found mine, squeezing gently as I had done to her earlier in the day.
Glancing down, I worried if I wasn’t being strong enough for her.
If I should’ve stood my ground and driven us home instead of being cared for.
The last thing I wanted was to become my mother, so dependent on everyone else around her that she’d forgotten how to live.
But then I realized I never wanted my daughter to grow up believing she had to do everything herself as I did.
I didn’t want her to lose her gentle heart, the one I found myself constantly in awe of.
We had a solid support system—one that others could only dream of having.
Why shouldn’t she learn that a vital part of taking care of herself meant leaning on those who love you to get through hard times?
Duke helped me into the passenger seat, reaching over to grab my seatbelt and buckle me in.
I mumbled a quiet thank you as he quietly closed the door and moved to the back to help the girls get settled.
By the time he made it to the driver’s side, Lukas’ truck was idling at the exit, waiting for us.
As he started the engine, soft music began filtering out of the speakers.
Fresh tears filled my eyes as I recognized it as one of my uncle’s favorites.
Duke reached over without hesitation and took my hand over the console, briefly bringing it to his lips before interlacing our fingers and letting them rest out in the open.
For the first time in a week and a half, I believed things might be okay.