Chapter 61
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
SEVEN VIRTUES, NORTH CAROLINA
There is no wrong way to grieve, just as there is no wrong way to live. So long as you honor the person in a way that’s healthy.
—Beautiful Today
I’m FaceTiming Austyn while cleaning out my mother’s kitchen. “So, he knows.”
“He knows and from all accounts, he’s flying to you as fast as a commercial airline will get him there.”
The surge of bitterness and resentment that rises through me almost overcomes the sadness that’s become my constant shadow. “Why bother?”
“I think you should hear it from him.”
“You’re assuming I don’t take Mama’s cast iron skillet and brain him with it.” I heft up the item in question and swing it like a tennis racket with a two-handed forehand to show Austyn.
“Now, why would you contaminate something that means so much to you?”
“I’m questioning whether a lot of things mean anything to me right now.” I lift the phone to show her the stacks upon stacks of Tupperware that are still in their original boxes. “I’m beginning to think my mother’s kitchen cabinets are like Mooney’s magical trunk in Harry Potter.”
Austyn’s eyes bulge. “One…two…six? Six boxes? Are you certain she wasn’t selling it?”
I let my legs give out and sit down on the kitchen tile to rest my back against the dishwasher. “No. Not entirely. I haven’t hit the office yet. When I do, I’ll let you know for certain.”
“Find anything interesting?” Austyn asks.
I stretch my arms high above my head and bend forward until my forehead touches the floor. “Yep.”
“Like what?”
“Her black box.”
“Her what?”
I lift myself up and prop up on my elbows. “Remember when you and I were in college and we swore to each other that if the other one died, no one was allowed into our dorm room until…”
Austyn’s face is appropriately horrified. “No!”
“Oh yes. Want to know what was in it?”
“No. Yes! No. What am I saying? Of course I want to.”
“Exactly what you’d expect,” I drawl. “In no way was I shocked by the lube or the vibrators. I mean, my mother had me at twenty-five. Come on. You should expect to find your own parents…”
“La la la, I can’t hear you. The world does not need to know if Beckett Miller and Paige Kensington ever had a toy box.”
“And there was something else.” Just thinking about it causes my lips to curve and my heart to clench simultaneously—a sensation I’m getting used to with every minute that extends between my mother’s passing.
“What’s that?”
“A letter addressed to me.”
Austyn’s choking for air. “Your mother left you letters in her toy box?”
Oh, the look on her face is going to be priceless. “Actually, your mother left me a letter from my mother in her toy box.”
Austyn’s face turns as purple as her braids. “Shut. The. Front. Door.”
“I can’t lie.”
“Have you read it?”
“Not yet, but it’s your mothers handwriting on the envelop.”
“Do you want to read it now?” That’s my best friend—my ride or die. I know for a fact she’s on her way to jump on a plane to head back to New York, but if I need her, she’ll stop right where she is—literally—to listen to me read my mother’s words aloud.
I’m about to take her up on the offer when the doorbell rings. “If there’s a god, she’s at the door with my pizza.”
“Let me let you go. We’re about to board. I’ll call you from the plane.”
I begin weaving through rooms. “Thank your mama for me.”
“Only if I can do it in front of my dad. He’ll get a kick out of where she hid the letter and I’ll get a kick knowing they’re going to have to hide their box better.” She murmurs to her husband who barks out a laugh.
“I love you, Austyn. Thank you for being here when I needed you.”
“If there’s one thing you don’t need to thank me for, it’s that.” The second Austyn disconnects, I pocket my phone and fling open the door.
I wish I’d looked out the side pane to see who was on the other side because standing in front of me is a destroyed Ethan.
I go with my first instinct and immediately tighten the muscles in my arm so I can slam the door in his face.