Chapter 20 Nell
TWENTY
NELL
Nell lay on the couch in the den, her eyes open, staring blankly at the TV across from her.
It wasn’t even on, but she was still staring at it as if she were deeply enthralled in a scene being played out in front of her.
Cool leather pressed against her cheek, sticky with dried tears she didn’t remember crying, grounded her in the present moment.
Thad’s dead.
The words floated through her mind, hollow and empty, lacking any actual purpose. They should have hurt more. They should have crushed her. But instead, she was feeling something completely different. Relieved.
Muffled voices carried through the closed door, Nate and Sarah on the other side, no doubt. She closed her eyes and listened.
“I had six missed calls from Charlie,” Nate was saying. “I kept ignoring them but finally answered so I could tell him to fuck off, and he”—a pause—“he told me Thaddeus passed last night, that the funeral is tomorrow in Greenwich, and that Nell could come if she wanted to.”
“How nice of him to allow her to go to her own father’s funeral.” Even from her spot on the couch, Nell could practically hear Sarah’s inevitable eye roll.
Nate laughed. “Yeah. Once a prick, always a prick.”
Nell smiled. Nate was forever her protector. Three brothers, and not one of them had ever cared about her nearly as much as Nate always had. For that, she was grateful.
The door opened, creaking slightly on its hinges as Sarah stepped inside, silhouetted by the glow of the hallway light. She crossed the room without a word, took a seat on the couch next to her, and shifted closer until Nell lifted her head to rest it in Sarah’s lap.
Fingers brushed against her temple, undoing her braid. Still, Sarah didn’t say anything as she worked her fingers strand by strand through her hair.
“How are you doing?” Sarah finally asked.
Nell shrugged, her cheek pressed against Sarah’s thigh.
“That’s okay,” Sarah reassured her, never stopping the repetitive movements, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes, leaning into the feeling of her touch.
“It’s okay if you don’t know yet. The Dead Dads Club is the weirdest club you’ll ever be a part of.
It, unfortunately, comes with the territory. ”
Nell cracked her eyes open, tilting her head to look up.
“Your dad’s gone, too?”
Sarah nodded, leaning back against the couch cushions. “He passed away from liver failure when I was thirty.”
Nell’s ears perked up at that. Sarah wasn’t someone who talked about her family often, and Nell wasn’t one to push, but she had always been curious.
“My dad was a mean, angry man who liked whiskey more than his wife and kids. When I turned eighteen and went to college, I picked a school on the West Coast to put as much distance between myself and him as possible. It was one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself.
Being the distant daughter kept me sane.
Being gay was one more thing for my father to hate about me.
My parents cut me off from my siblings until, one day, I got a call from my sister, Erin.
My dad needed a liver transplant, and everyone was getting tested. I ended up being the only match.”
Nell rolled onto her back and looked up at Sarah. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. I didn’t consent to the transplant. I couldn’t wrap my head around giving a part of myself to someone who never gave a shit about me. I didn’t tell any of my family, and, as far as they know, Dad died waiting for a match.”
“Do you regret your decision?”
Sarah tilted her chin down, looking at her, and Nell could see the truth in her eyes.
“No. I did what I needed to do to create peace for myself. I had already grieved the loss of my dad years before. I carried that ache of knowing he would never be the parent I needed him to be. And by the time I got that call, I had already worked through the sadness, the anger, and the letting go. But after he died, there was a new wave of unexpected grief—grief for the person he never became. It’s reckoning with the sadness that you’ll never get closure that hurts the most—that things were left unfinished. ”
The faint ticking from the grandfather clock in the corner filled the room. Nell swallowed hard. “Unfinished is a perfect word for how I feel right now, but also maybe a little relieved? Is that wrong?”
Sarah’s hand paused, coming to cup her cheek gently. “No. It’s not. It’s okay to be glad they’re gone.”
“I feel cheated,” Nell said, after a moment.
“For the last twenty-seven years of my life, I’ve held on to this hope that one day my father would realize what he did to me was wrong.
It’s stupid, I know, but a small part of me wanted to believe that he was capable of seeing my bigness.
But now that he’s gone, that hope is gone, too.
I thought losing him would hurt more, but it’s the loss of that hope that stings.
” She took a deep breath in, the weight of Sarah’s hand against her cheek comforting, “I don’t think I want to go to the funeral. ”
“That’s perfectly okay.” Sarah tucked her hair behind her ear as she closed her eyes.
“Will you sit with me a little longer?” Nell asked quietly, knowing Sarah’s answer already.
“I’ll sit with you for as long as you want me to.”
The next morning, Nell was woken by the soft buzzing of her phone on the nightstand. She blinked, groggy still from the abrupt wake-up. Pale light filtered through the windows, the sun beginning to rise.
She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Sarah, who was snoring faintly beside her.
Her phone began to buzz again in her hand. She answered it. “Nell Stanhope,” she whispered, as she made her way down the hall.
When she emerged from her office an hour later, Sarah and Nate were seated at the counter, talking over coffee.
“Change of plans today. We’re going to Thaddeus’s funeral after all.”
Both Sarah and Nate looked at Nell, confused but not pushing back.
“Okay, then. Funeral time it is. Think he’ll mind if I wear an obnoxious tie?” Nate asked.
“Do whatever you feel like you need to do to honor his memory,” she answered, motioning to Sarah to follow her.
They went back upstairs and into Nell’s closet. Nell pulled out a black Veronica Beard dress for herself. It was simple, but she knew she looked absolutely untouchable in it.
“I know a funeral isn’t exactly the most fun, but it would mean a lot to me if you came,” she said absently, sifting through the hangers, looking for the suit she had in mind for Sarah. She found it, pulled it from the rack, and handed it to her.
“Of course. Wherever you need me, I’m there.”
“Today, I need you by my side.”
The church where the funeral was being held was one she’d been in a hundred times before.
The arched stone facade decorated with ornate stained glass had been a staple of her childhood.
People in black and navy lingered in the courtyard before ducking through large wooden doors.
Her heels clicked on stone pavers as she moved toward the building’s entrance, flanked on either side by Nate and Sarah.
She had timed it perfectly so their arrival would coincide with the beginning of the funeral. She didn’t want to do any more mingling than necessary. Nell followed Nate as he led them to the line of people waiting to pay their respects to her father.
When it was their turn, Nate approached first, glancing into the casket. “Best you’ve ever looked, Thad. Rest in chaos.” He performed the sign of the cross before moving forward. She and Sarah stepped forward next, Sarah’s hand placed gently on her lower back.
Seeing her father like this was eerie. It was the closest she had physically been to him since that night in her childhood bedroom when he had thrown a suitcase at her, telling her to pack her things and leave.
Heavy makeup had been applied, giving his appearance a waxy look as it attempted to mimic a peaceful state of slumber.
She leaned forward so her words could only be heard by him and Sarah.
“Hey, Dad,” she whispered. “I would say you look good, but I make it a rule not to give compliments that aren’t true.
” She paused, the sentiment she wanted to leave with him on the tip of her tongue, but something stopped her. She looked at Sarah.
“Now’s your chance to say whatever it is you need to say to get your closure,” she encouraged.
Sarah was right. This was her last chance.
“You were wrong, Dad. Wrong to think you could stamp me out of existence for being a strong, queer woman. Wrong to think that exiling me the way you did would make me disappear. I got my stubbornness from you, and I hate to break it to you, Thad, but I’m a dandelion.
I can grow even in the most hostile of environments. I hope you enjoyed watching me bloom.”
She straightened, feeling lighter than she had in years as she looked down at her father’s waxy face one last time before turning to follow Sarah back to where Nate was waiting for them.
The trio slipped into a pew at the very back of the church.
The lingering scent of incense hung in the air, and from their vantage point, she could see everything.
The Mass began, and she watched the sun stream through the towering stained-glass windows, casting colorful, jewel-toned light across the black-clad shoulders of the people who had gathered to honor her father.
The priest continued, and Nate began his steady stream of commentary, muttering witty one-liners under his breath.
“Passion? That’s a generous interpretation of Thad’s anger .
. .” and “I’m pretty sure that’s a line from The Boondock Saints.
” He kept it up the entire Mass. Was it inappropriate?
Absolutely, but it was exactly what she needed.
In every moment of darkness in her life, Nell had always leaned on joy to get her through.