CHAPTER 28

ASHLYN

On my drive to the cemetery, to take my mind off where I’m going, I call dentist Ron Pleasant’s office. Dentist Pleasant has a nice ring to it. I’m surprised when his answering service puts me right through to him on a Sunday. It’s not really an emergency.

“Look, I don’t know what you want, Terry Jane, but you better leave me alone. Do you understand? The nerve of you, calling after all these years. Let me guess, you’re in trouble again? Well, you’ve come crying to the wrong mark. I won’t be fooled by you again. And I’m a married man,” Ron said in rapid fire, like he’d been waiting to say this for years. He sounded anything but pleasant.

I suppose I do know why I was put through to him. I pretended to be Tish. I clear my throat. “Actually, Dr. Pleasant, my name is Ashlyn, and I’m calling because I think Terry Jane hurt my dad. Like she hurt you, only worse.”

I hear a big sigh. “Damn it. I finally got over that woman, and I don’t want to hear her name again.”

“She married my dad, and now my dad’s dead,” I say, and tears spring to my eyes. “I really need your help. You were married to her, too. Did she try to hurt you? Please help me. I miss my dad, so much.”

“I’m sorry, I am. And I’m sorry your dad had anything to do with her. She met me, married me, I fixed her teeth, gave her a place to stay, new clothes to wear, and then one day she was gone. No note. Nothing. She didn’t hurt me physically, but emotionally and monetarily, I was a mess for a long time.”

“That stinks,” I say.

“Sounds like I might have gotten off easy,” he says.

“You didn’t ask her for a divorce,” I am speaking through sobs. I can’t help it. I’m mad and sad all rolled into one. “That’s what she said. She told me you left her. I felt sorry for her.”

“No. It’s the other way around. I had to get the court to give me an annulment. She just left,” he says. The sadness in his voice matches mine, but the anger doesn’t. Mine’s more visceral, more raw. “I wish I could help you. But I can’t. My advice. Stay far away from her.”

I finish the rest of the drive to the cemetery wiping tears away. I’m mad at myself for falling for Tish’s lies. And I’m mad at my dad for falling for her, too.

I park and look around. It’s surprising how few cars are here. I make my way across the parking lot, my flats crunch on the gravel path leading up to the ornate mausoleum. Stained glass windows and heavy, dark wood architecture give the outside of the building a somber, church-like feel. If it was dark outside, I’d be freaked out.

I open the door to the creepy place where my dad will be buried and walk inside. Tish stands up front with a ghostly white guy. Behind her are drawers full of dead people, including my grandparents. I almost turn around. I feel sick.

Tish spots me first. “Ashlyn, darling, come in.”

The first thing I think is she’s wearing brown when she should be wearing black. The second thing I think is why did she cremate my dad. He has a drawer reserved. One of those right behind her. His whole body would have fit just fine.

“Can I talk to you? Alone?” I ask.

Ghoulish mortuary worker nods and disappears.

“How are you holding up? I thought maybe we could do some retail therapy after this?” Tish says. Her eyes sparkle. I don’t know if she’s serious or just messing with me. Or, worse, is she a psycho?

“Why did you cremate Dad?” I ask.

“We’ve been over this. It’s environmentally sound.”

“Why didn’t you bring his body here? Have them do it?” I ask. “It all seems rushed.”

“Well, it was rushed. Someone called the coroner’s office in Colorado and told them your dad was a big shot, so they expedited the death certificate. It was such a hectic time it didn’t matter to me who made it happen. I remember they thought I called. It was weird, but whatever,” she says. She picks up a photo of the three of us and shows it to me. We’re at Atlantis in the Bahamas. “This was fun, remember?”

“You didn’t expedite it?” I ask, my heart beating faster.

“Nope. Not me.”

The heavy door to the mausoleum opens with a moan. We both turn around. It’s my mom.

CHAPTER 29

KATE

Bob pulls the thick wooden door open, and I step inside.

There’s no crowd like I expected. The whole place is empty except for Tish, standing up front where the minister should be, wearing a ridiculously tight brown dress. Ashlyn sits in the front row. Rows of empty chairs face the wall of “drawers” where the deceased reside. I notice our two slots, John Nelson and Kate Nelson labeled in gleaming bronze, side by side. My blood runs cold as I focus on Tish.

“Where are all the people?” I ask. This is an important moment in the history of the city, certainly in the history of one of its most successful companies. This should be a state funeral, a moment to refocus everyone on the new head of the company. I feel my speech in my pocket. “Why is no one here? Where is the mayor?”

Beside me, Bob shifts. “Not invited. It’s private. Per Tish. It wasn’t even announced in the paper. I only know because I still control some of John’s affairs.”

Bob’s hand on my back propels me into action. I walk down the center aisle past rows and rows of empty seats and can’t help but shake my head. John’s friends would want to be here. This makes no sense.

“Sit wherever you’d like, Kate. This is going to be short and sweet,” Tish says as I reach the front of the room. Ashlyn turns around, her face is grim, puffy. I slip into the row behind my daughter. Bob sits beside me.

I touch Ashlyn’s shoulder as I turn my attention back to the front, the altar so to speak. I notice a row of four silver framed photos. Tish and John. Tish and John and Ashlyn. John and Ashlyn. Tish and Ashlyn. How sweet. Next to the photos is a blue ceramic pot. My brain registers: that is John.

Bob whispers, “Oh my god. Poor John.”

I nod, my brain recalculating at the reality of it all, ignoring whatever eulogy spews from Tish’s mouth. I can’t listen to her. All I can do is focus on John.

In that pot.

He’d really hate that. I reach into my pocket and pull out my speech, my Dear John eulogy and company rally.

I tear it into little pieces and watch as they fall to the cold stone floor.

At least it’s all over now.

CHAPTER 30

TISH

I watch Kate’s face contract as I touch the urn. She clearly has a problem with cremation. I should have said more about it in my speech. I had quite the lesson working with the undertaker on this. Ashes to ashes and all. Oh well.

Oh, I almost forgot to bring up the brat. I say, “We all loved you, John. And now, Ashlyn has a few words she’s prepared. She’ll be the last speaker.”

Kate looks at me and brushes bits of paper from her hands. She’s feeling left out. Whatever. She’s so dramatic.

Ashlyn stands and walks to the front next to me. She should kiss my cheek, hug me, show me some love. But she doesn’t. Even so, this must be killing Kate, and I love that. I know I should not feel this way, but I do. She never was nice to me. Ever. And I tried, especially at the beginning. I mean, she didn’t want to have sex with him anymore or else why was he so responsive to me? That’s the thing. I did her a favor, really. What did she lose? Nothing. She has her kid, her company, her house, and her fancy life. She really needs to get over herself.

I pat Ashlyn’s hand, a small but obvious gesture signifying our closeness, and take a seat in the front row. As I wait for Ashlyn to begin, I smile at the elegant simplicity of this funeral. I mean, the photos glisten in their silver frames, John’s urn is masculine and respectful. The creepy drawers full of rich dead people throw things off a bit, but all in all, this is a nice funeral.

I remember I need to pay attention to Ashlyn’s speech, or at least pretend to. She’s reading from a piece of paper that’s shaking between her hands. No composure. But that’s to be expected. She’s never had any adversity in her life until this. If you don’t count the divorce. And you shouldn’t. I mean everybody’s parents are divorced these days. Her day-to-day spoiled life isn’t even affected by it. She told me she considers it a blessing. She gained an older sister. Truth be told, she said that a long time ago, and I think her perspective has shifted.

She should stop talking. Tears stream down her cheeks. The speech is shaking in her hands. “I just miss you so much, Daddy. I don’t understand why you’re gone.”

I can’t take it. I jump up and wrap my arms around her, preempting a move by Kate to do the same thing. I whisper, “There, there, sweetie. You’re going to be fine. I’m here for you.”

Ashlyn shakes harder. I hug tighter.

Kate is behind me. I feel her hot breath on my neck. “Let go of my daughter.”

“I’ve got her. She’s fine,” I answer without turning around.

“Mom.” Ashlyn shrugs out of my embrace and reaches for Kate.