Chapter 23
CJ
CJ closed her bedroom door gently behind herself. She exhaled to keep from crying, then crossed to the birdcage. That always cheered her up. Her parakeets whistled and trilled greetings, then Mouse fluttered closer while Mona pecked at her perch.
“At least I have you two,” she said, and opened the cage door.
She cooed at them, but they stayed put, safe behind bars.
She couldn’t blame them: she should’ve learned that lesson and kept to herself.
Instead, she’d tried speaking with Karina.
That’s what Frank would’ve wanted, after all.
And she’d hoped, a little stupidly, that things could change between her and Karina.
They’d both loved him. He’d loved both of them.
Surely, for his sake, in his memory, they could get along through the funeral at the very least.
Apparently not.
She’d approached Karina at the bocce court after dinner; she’d been playing obsessively since Frank died, as a way to cope with the grief.
She’d asked if they could talk, but Karina hadn’t even looked at her.
Hadn’t acknowledged her in any way. She just tensed, her knuckles whitening around the ball in her hand.
So CJ had retreated to her room, aflame with shame and sorrow. Frank deserved so much better. Hell, she deserved better, too. Maybe she should accept one of Ocean’s invitations. At least for a walk on the beach, to calm herself a little, if not—
Karina burst into the room and the birds flapped in a panic. “Get out! I want you gone!”
“Karina, I—”
She hurled the photo in her hand. The frame spun across the room and shattered against the wall. Broken glass tinkled around the picture of CJ and Frank. The one he kept on his bedside table. From her second year with him—before Karina—when he’d taken her on his trip to Costa Rica.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” Karina said.
CJ crouched, shook shards from the photo, then almost smiled at the expressions on her and Frank’s faces, in the treetops looking over the zip line that disappeared into the rainforest below.
“The cops don’t have a clue,” Karina spat at her, “but we know. You and I know the truth and if you’re not gone in twenty-four hours I will—I swear to God, I will set you on fucking fire.”
“Karina, you were drinking! I reached for him, I tried to catch him.”
“I hope you rot, I hope you suffer. You never cared about Frank.”
That’s when the rage began pounding behind CJ’s eyes. “I put him first. I put him first.”
“Just get out.”
“I always put him first, Karina.”
“Yeah? Well, he put me first.”
“Of course he did! You’re his goddamn wife! And do you know what he’d want now? Do you have any idea? Because I do. I know exactly what he’d want. He’d want me to stay and—”
“I don’t care!”
“And take care of you. That’s what he’d want.
You’re petty and selfish but he—” CJ took a breath.
“He loved you, and you need my help. You have no clue how anything works around here. I’ll stay one more month, until after the—the funeral.
Until you’re back on your feet. Because that’s what he’d want. ”
“Twenty-four hours,” Karina said. “Starting now.”
After she slammed the door, CJ slumped to the floor beside the broken picture.
For the first time since Frank’s death, she wanted to sob.
Not that she hadn’t mourned him. Of course she’d mourned him.
Still, she knew he’d insist that she celebrate the good times instead of wallowing in grief.
All those years of laughter, of guidance, of stubbornness and kindness.
Yet look at her now, left with nothing but tears.