Page 79 of My One

“Since the last month has been stressful for you”—she reached into her handbag sitting next to her in the booth—“I got you two something.”

“You didn’t need to get us anything,” Avery stated.

“I wanted to. I care about you two, and I want you to take a vacation and not be stressed.”

“A vacation?” I questioned.

She handed Avery an envelope. “Go back to the Bahamas and have a second honeymoon. Make a baby. Then when I come to visit, I can spoil it.”

“Edna …” I reached for her frail hand as Avery opened the envelope. I looked over his shoulder to see that it was a print out of what looked like a travel confirmation, and then it made sense.

“You shouldn’t have,” he stated.

She waved him off with her free hand. “I can’t take my money with me when I die.”

“But we don’t need your money,” Avery admitted. “This is too much.”

“Nonsense. I want to. As you know, I don’t have children, and I’ve taken a liking to the two of you.”

I stood and rushed to where she sat on the opposite side of the booth and engulfed her in a hug. “Thank you, but you really shouldn’t have.”

“You two go, but there’s one catch.”

I pulled my head back. “What’s that?”

Edna smiled and looked between Avery and me as she spoke. “There’s a bar on the island where you’re staying. It’s called Zelly’s, and you two need to have at least one drink there for me.”

“Why’s that?” Avery asked.

Her grin widened as though she was thinking of something good—a memory of something or someone. “Back in my day, there was a man—”

“Edna, you minx, you.” I smirked.

She laughed. “I’ll leave it at that, but just promise you’ll go and then tell me what you think.”

I smiled. “We will. Thank you so much.”

“Yes, thank you,” Avery expressed.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

We stared at the two urns sitting on the kitchen island. One was plain silver, and the other that held my mother’s ashes was silver with some sort of swirly design engraved in it. Besides the jewelry Nicole had kept of my mother’s, these urns were the lastthingsI had of them.

“We can take them back on the plane tomorrow,” Nic stated for the twentieth time.

There was no question I was taking my mother back. The problem was, what did I do with Doug? For the past few days, I’d stopped referring to him as my father. He was the man who kept a roof over my head and gave me money, but he wasn’t my dad.

“I’m not taking Doug,” I clipped.

“What do you want to do with him?”

Burn him, but that was already done.“I don’t know. Just leave him here?” We kept staring at the urns as though they would give us the answers.

“I have an idea,” Nic said.

“What?” I asked.

My wife turned to face me. “What if we spread some of your mom’s ashes at Avery Senior’s gravesite? Then it can be like they’re together.”