91. Ryan Fairview
C al’s suit was not the only surprise he had up his sleeve. After the initial shock had worn off, the familiar fingers of anxiety had latched back around my heart.
Cal followed me as I scurried downstairs to double-check that everything was ready. We were at t-minus two minutes before the grieving widow of Mr. Whitlock was due to arrive.
“Shit!” I cried out loud. “I still need to put out the programs!”
Cal chuckled behind me. “I did that already. I was also thinking I could hand some out to people as they arrive.”
He flashed me the deck of papers and grinned.
“I also turned the slide show on before I got dressed, so it should already be playing,” he informed me, looking rather pleased with himself. My mouth hung open in shock.
Jesus Christ… I was going to marry this man.
“How do you know about all this stuff?” I asked, still struggling to process the fact that Cal not only wanted to help me with my business, but he was already pretty fucking good at it. He shrugged, shooting me another dazzling grin.
“Theo.”
Suddenly, it all made sense. This was why they had been spending so much time together recently. Cal had been trying to learn the ins and outs of the business behind the scenes so he could surprise me.
For weeks, he had been planning this… for me. Because he fucking loved me and wanted to support something that was so important to me…
I sniffed and pressed my palms into my eyes, suddenly fighting off tears again.
“Fuck… I’m going to be a blubbering mess when they get here,” I choked, though I was laughing.
“If you need a minute, I can handle the guests while you get your overwhelming love for me under control.” He smirked at me, looking more smug than a kitten who had caught its first mouse.
I chuckled and shook my head, cupping his cheek affectionately.
“You say that like it’s a joke, but I do love you, Callum. This means… This means the world to me.”
He gave me a gentle smile, his warm eyes shining with a tenderness I never thought I would have directed at me.
“You mean the world to me , baby,” he said softly, and for the third time that day, I had to force myself not to cry.
Mrs. Whitlock arrived, and I moved to greet her, but Cal leisurely stepped between us, reaching forward to take the grieving woman’s hand.
“Mrs. Whitlock, welcome,” he said, his voice low and comforting. “I’m sorry for your loss.” I eyed the woman, for some reason feeling like I had met her before. Silent Hollow was a mid-sized town, so it was possible I had simply seen her around, but it was more than that.
The tension seemed to immediately melt out of her as Cal squeezed her hand comfortingly, and her eyes shone with tears as she looked up into his warm eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and Cal nodded, his expression appropriately somber.
“Of course. Would you like to see the viewing room?” he asked, and she nodded, her lower lip trembling.
Cal led her away, and Mr. Whitlock’s spirit manifested next to me, and we watched them go.
I had gotten to know Mr. Whitlock while prepping his body over the past week, and I wasn’t sure that I would have liked the man while he was alive.
He was a God-fearing man, and he had made some questionably homophobic comments while I had been embalming him. However, despite the errant comments, my heart went out to him now.
He clearly loved his wife, and the spirit’s eyes welled with tears as she broke down at the sight of his body lying in the open casket.
‘Silly woman,’ he muttered gruffly, though there was clear affection in his tone. ‘Always kicking up a fuss.’
His spirit attempted to float closer to his grieving wife, but he was forced to stop by some unseen barrier. A frown creased my brow when I realized it was because Cal, as always, was diligently wearing his talisman.
Mr. Whitlock couldn’t get any closer to Cal than the ghouls that haunted him.
Well, this was an unforeseen problem.
I didn’t know what to do. On the one hand, he was doing an excellent job consoling the grieving widow. A much better job than I ever would have done. He had his arm draped over her shoulder, and she was leaning into him like she might literally be swept away by her grief, and he was the only thing tethering her to this earth.
I didn’t want to call him away from her. But it didn’t feel right that the spirit of her husband couldn’t approach her either…
The talisman was a catch-all and couldn’t determine the difference between malevolent spirits and harmless ones… If Cal was going to help me here, I was going to need to find a way to banish the evil spirits that haunted him for good.
“Ryan?” A familiar female voice washed over me as I struggled with my indecision.
I turned to find Joanna standing in the doorway, and I couldn’t keep the shock off my face.
“Joanna?” I rasped, panic taking over.
Fuck.
Cal was going to lose his fucking mind if he saw that Joanna was here!
“What are you doing here?” I blurted, unable to keep my surprise under wraps. However, I immediately regretted the harsh words when I noticed how pale she was and the dark bags under her eyes.
Her lower lip trembled, and guilt flooded my gut.
This was a woman in pain .
“I’m here for my grandfather’s funeral,” she whispered, and all of a sudden, I knew why Mrs. Whitlock seemed so familiar. I had briefly met her at a few of the church events Joanna had asked me to accompany her to.
Looking at Joanna’s devastated expression, our history suddenly didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was making sure this person before me was able to grieve in a safe, supportive environment.
“Of course.” I straightened, immediately falling back into the professional version of myself that I had been honing for years.
I reached out and took her hand gently.
“Come. Your grandmother is in the viewing room. Let’s go together,” I said gently.
Her lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. She nodded, sniffing softly.
“Thank you, Ryan,” she whispered, and I squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“Of course, Joanna. Come on. Your grandfather’s in here,” I replied, steering her into the viewing room to join Cal and her grandmother.