Chapter 4
4
M argo and her sisters finished making the arrangements. They stopped at the flower shop to deliver the purple coneflowers, and the people there said they would make Logan a beautiful arrangement for his casket. At the funeral home, she had to answer all sorts of questions. What song did she want to be played at the funeral? What verse did she want spoken? Who were the pallbearers? Oh my god, pallbearers. She never even thought of that. In the end, she opted for no pallbearers because there wasn’t going to be a funeral procession. Logan's casket would be at the front of the church, their little local non-denominational church. They'd both preferred that when they first married. And in the end, he would be left there for the funeral home to take him to be cremated. She wouldn't know who to pick, anyway. And, finally, the funeral would be tomorrow. Quick. Easy, as if they ever were, but her sisters talked her into not waiting since there was little need and no out-of-town relatives to wait for. It was all so surreal.
They went home, and she crashed almost immediately and slept for thirteen hours. Her body and mind finally agreed to let her sleep. When she woke, it was 5 a.m. As she stared at the ceiling for a moment, she felt rested. She got up, stretched, and ambled out to the kitchen to see Carley sitting at the table with a phone in her hand. As soon as she entered the kitchen, Carley set the phone down and smiled at her. "Did you sleep well? You must have been exhausted."
"I did. I slept very well actually. Thank you all for keeping yourselves occupied while you're here."
Carley shook her head. "No, no, don't worry about us. We're fine. We played a couple of friendly games of cards last night, and then we went to bed early. I think we all needed the rest."
"Yes, that's a fact. Have you decided what you'll wear for the funeral?"
Margo shrugged. "I don't know. I have an older black tank dress; it's certainly in good shape. I have black slacks, but it's so ungodly hot out."
"It is. You should wear that black tank dress. It looks good on you. The dress will be cooler than slacks, and let's face it, everyone at the funeral home in the church will be as hot as you are, so I don't think you'll offend anyone. And if you do, who the fuck cares?"
Margo laughed. Carley's blunt response was out of character and so needed.
"That's exactly right. Who the fuck cares? I'll wear what I want to wear, and for the record, Logan loved that dress. He's actually the one who bought it for me when we went to Italy last year."
Carley smiled. Margo sat at the table with her sister and noticed the phone was gone. "Oh, honey, don't let me stop what you were doing with your phone. If you're in the middle of a conversation, please go ahead. I won't be offended."
"No, it's alright. I was just messing around on social media. It doesn't matter."
Her other two sisters shuffled in one by one. They sat at the table, drank their coffee, and chatted. It was nice. Margo took a deep breath. "So, did anybody think to get Logan's phone? I don't know if there are people we should have contacted about today or not."
Carley looked at her sister, placed her hand over hers, and squeezed. "We did, honey. We took care of it."
"Do you mind if I have his phone?"
Holly shrugged, "Why don't we wait till after the funeral? You may want to wait."
"No, actually, I don't want to wait. I would like Logan's phone, please."
Josseline stood quickly. "Why don't we wait, Margo? Let's go over what has to happen today and what you need help with in the real estate office?"
"No. I don't need help. We have a receptionist-personal assistant there, and she has everything completely under control. She's gathering Logan's files right now so that I can look at them first thing tomorrow when I go into the office. What I really want is Logan's phone."
Carley squeezed her hand. "No, you don't, honey. No, you don't."
Her heart beat rapidly, and she felt something sour in her stomach. "What does that mean? What are you hiding from me? You've all been acting weird. What is going on, and why can't I have my husband's phone?" Her voice rose, and she immediately regretted it when she saw them grimace.
"You can have it," Carley said, "But let's wait till later today."
"Okay, why?"
Holly leaned forward and softly replied. "It's just best if you wait. We don't want you to be upset or overly sad today."
"Overly sad? My husband of twenty-three years died. I'm going to be overly sad no matter what you think."
Holly's eyes darted to Carley's immediately.
Finally, Josseline spoke up. "Give her the phone."
"No," Carley bit back.
"Give her the phone," Josseline growled.
"No, Josseline, not now."
Margo slapped her hands on top of the table. "Give me the fucking phone."
Her sisters stared at each other for a moment, and then finally, Carley turned slightly so they were face to face. Her voice softened. "Margo, you're going to find some upsetting things on Logan's phone."
"Like what?"
"We really wanted to wait till after the funeral for all of this." Carley took a deep breath and glanced at her sisters, who stared mutely.
"Logan's been having an affair."
Swirls and paisley shapes floated before her eyes. Her heart beat so fast she thought she was going to pass out. Her vision dimmed. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Why would her sisters say this about Logan? Why would they say this?
She finally found her voice. "I can't believe that you're accusing him of having an affair at a time like this. At a time when he can't defend himself. At a time when I am grieving." Her voice broke.
"We tried to spare you," Carley reminded her.
"Who? Who was he having an affair with then?"
Carley let out a deep breath and looked at her sisters for help. Neither of them chimed in. She shook her head slightly. "A woman named Sierra Stigler, and they've been having an affair for about seven years. I found out because his phone kept chiming when you had left to take a walk the other day, and I looked at his phone and saw her messaging him, asking what was going on. She asked what the doctor said and if he would please respond. She was so worried. I started looking back at all the texts, and they've been communicating for seven years."
Seven years. She couldn't even talk. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. This was the most bizarre information she'd ever gotten. Ever. And she wanted so badly to go scream at Logan and ask him what the fuck.
Carley slid the phone she had been holding before across the table. "You don't have to read this now, Margo. You can wait. You have a funeral to get through. But we're here if you want to read some of it now."
She looked at the phone like it was something that would reach out and bite her. She hated to think about what was on that phone, and then again, part of her needed to know. They wouldn't lie about something like this, would they? They loved her. They wouldn't hurt her unnecessarily. They must know something that she didn't know. They must.
Slowly, as if she were afraid of that phone, she reached forward and pulled the phone toward her. She picked it off the table and entered Logan's birth date. That had always been his password, but it didn't work.
She tried again, and it still didn't work.
Carley cleared her throat lightly, "He changed it. Then I changed it to one, two, three, four, as soon as I was able to get in using his fingerprint.
Margo swallowed and entered one, two, three, four, and scrolled through his messages. The very first one on top was Sierra Stigler. Actually, it just said Sierra with a heart by it, and she wanted to burst out crying. She took a deep breath, tapped Sierra's name, and began reading the love texts. The pictures from Miami. He wasn't trying to find business in Miami. He was with his fucking mistress. Or maybe she should say he was fucking his mistress in Miami. There were pictures in Tallahassee. There were pictures in some areas she didn't know.
She started looking at the dates and then pulled her phone over and compared the same dates. The dates he told her he was fishing with the guys, and he was going off to meet a new client, and he was talking to some of the fishermen about a new fishing hole, and he had a golf outing, and he had this, and he had that, and every single lie he'd ever told her was there for her to see. And every single time he was with her. A tall, slender redhead with blue eyes, fake boobs, and Logan.
She scrolled back until she couldn't take it anymore, and she set the phone down. She stared straight ahead for what felt like an hour. Her sisters were quiet. They didn't say anything. They let her process what she needed to process. She finally took a deep breath and said, "Well, I have to go through with the funeral today because he was so well-known, and I sure as hell don't want this to ruin our business. I mean my business. After all, I need it to survive now. But I'll tell you what I'm not gonna do. I'm not gonna pick up his fucking ashes from the funeral home when they call to tell me that he's finished, and I am NOT going to erect any kind of a statue, or any kind of a memorial for that man because really now our last seven years have been nothing but a lie."