Page 45 of Mourner for Hire

THIRTY-SEVEN

DOMINIC

I drive to the public beach to clear my head, though the sound of the crashing waves only adds to the muddled chaos in my brain. The mixed feelings. The anger. The animosity.

I’ve only had months to grieve my mother, no matter how expected the loss was, and then some floozy from the city with fierce eyes and a pretty smile moves in and changes the smallest details that were always distinctly my mother.

My childhood.

My life.

“Where are you?” I shout into the ocean as if I can summon my earlier hallucination of my mother. She looked so real. So whole.

But I know it’s not her. My mother is buried in Shellport Cemetery, and her spirit is long gone into another realm. I wonder if she has found my dad yet. I wonder if they’re making jokes about me. I wonder if she told him I love him like I asked.

I wonder, more than anything, why Vada? Why does she have to be here? Why does it have to be her?

An hour at the beach does nothing to calm my nerves or anger. I’m not done with Vada. It’s time to set down some rules and guidelines. Any big changes need to be run by me due to human decency.

I get in my car and drive back over to the cottage.