Chapter 16 #2
My mother’s grave is on the east side of the property, where she has a garden filled with all of her favourite flowers. I push through the gate and trudge through the overgrown grass, keeping my eyes on my now wet Prada loafers as I lower myself to sit beside my father on the bench.
“Is it bad that I want it to take me?” he says after a minute.
I frown, surprised at his confession. “Dad, I... Fuck.”
He chuckles beside me. “Come on, Mason, watch that language.” He stares out at the acres of land on the estate.
“She wasn’t afraid of dying, you know. I didn’t understand at the time, how she could be so accepting when I was petrified for her to go.
She knew she had people waiting for her, her parents, grandparents. I get it now.”
I sit quiet, fighting against the lump in my throat, unsure of what I should say.
“I need to get some things put into place, maybe next month we could sit down together and go through it all. So I know I won’t need to worry.”
“Wait until you hear more from the doctor, Dad. God, you say it like it’s no big deal. Scarlet will lose her only parent,” I mutter.
“So will you, Mason.”
“You don’t need to worry about me. Focus on getting better—for Scar.”
He nods his head in agreement. “Do you remember the summer of ninety-nine? You and Scar were on the meadow—”
I frown as I cut him off. “I told her Father Christmas wasn’t real, and she hit me round the head with the shovel.” He drops his head back, laughing. “I remember it well.” I scoff.
“Fourteen stitches,” he says, shaking his head.
“How about when you watched Jaws with Elliot and then wouldn’t take a bath for a week because you were too afraid a shark was going to come through the wall?”
My lip lifts on one side. “You wouldn’t believe how badly I believed that would happen.” I stare down at the ground, reminiscing. “What song was it? That Mum would play us on the piano?”
He looks at me, caught off guard by my question. “‘Imagine’ by John Lennon,” he croaks out.
“Yes! How could I not remember that?”
His eyes move to her gravestone. “She would be so proud of you. I am so proud of you.” He pauses for a moment, breathing in the damp English air.
“I’m not afraid. She was my world, and like her, I dread leaving you and your sister, but I can accept it.
I need you to as well, and I need you to be there for your sister when the time comes. ”
“You know I will be.” My eyes begin to burn, and I clear my throat into my fist. “Stop talking like you’re going to die tomorrow, they said they’ll find a donor.”
He clasps my knee, squeezing to comfort me in the only way he knows I will allow. “Maybe, son, maybe.”
Nina
For a little person, Scarlet sure can hold her drink.
I wasn’t expecting to drink as much as we have, but as I watch her dance across the sofas kicking the cushions to the floor while she points to Lucy across the room, singing in unison to “Girls Just Want To Have Fun”, I know she is worth the hangover.
The girls hit it off just like I knew they would.
Lucy did an amazing job with planning the day.
We had massages, manicures, and pedicures, followed by deliveries of gourmet food.
The penthouse was transformed into a purple wonderland, balloon arches and streamers taking up every spare expanse.
I hate to think how much it would have cost, and I didn’t ask.
I paid for my treatments and tried not to dwell on the rest.
Scarlet bounds over to me with her lavender hair in a pile on her head. Just as she steps up in front of me, the elevator pings.
“Oh, is that the stripper?” she says excitedly, running in the direction of the foyer.
Elliot stops her in her tracks, sauntering around the corner as he pulls his shirt from his slacks.
“Did someone say stripper?” Elliot teases, and Charlie and Lance stroll in a few steps behind him.
“Me! I did!” Lucy shouts, dropping herself onto the sofa. I look at her, laughing. It’s very unlike her to be so forward.
Elliot beams as Scarlet slaps his arm and scolds him, “Put your damn clothes on, I do not want to see that.”
He pulls her into him, tucking her under his arm. “Happy birthday, Scar.”
I stand watching as the boys all greet Scarlet and wish her a happy birthday. Checking my phone, I notice it’s nearly six o’clock. I expected Mason to be back hours ago.
I go to the kitchen and dial his number.
“Hey,” he answers, a calm settling over me as his voice drifts through the phone.
“Sorry, I was just worried. Where are you? Is your dad okay?”
“I’m nearly home. Are the boys there?” he asks, not answering my other question.
“Yeah, I think your sister’s had a great day. Although we are all slightly tipsy.” I giggle into the phone.
“Good, she deserves it.”
I frown at his tone. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just pulling in, angel, I’m on my way up.” And then he hangs up.
We sit around the fire pit on Mason’s balcony. The evening air has a slight chill to it, but Scarlet wanted to be outside so we found as many blankets as we could to wrap up in.
I lie between Mason’s legs on the lounger, watching as our friends drink and chat together.
“How did the appointment go?” I whisper into his neck.
His grip on my waist tightens and I lift my head so I can see his face. “Not great.” His eyes find Scarlet across the fire. “But I’m glad I went with him.”
I smooth my hand up his chest, a tight smile pulling at my lips. “Whatever happens, we’re here for you, all of us,” I say, looking around at our friends.
He kisses my head, then shifts his hips, digging around under him. “Your phone.” He holds it in front of us as we both stare at the screen.
Mum.