Page 29 of When I Should’ve Stayed (Red Bridge #2)

Clay

I hold Josie’s hand in mine in the back of the last town car that follows Grandma Rose’s hearse from the church to the cemetery. Our pace over the pavement gently shakes the car back and forth as Josie stares ahead, her face a mask of nothingness despite the screams I know she’s feeling inside.

My heart feels raw from my own mourning, but I smooth on a balm of ignoring it as I care for my wife. She doesn’t talk much, but she cries. In the morning and in the afternoon and at night, her body drains itself through tears shed, and I shove any form of fluid she’ll drink in front of her.

Her face is swollen, all the light of her beautiful green eyes dimmed and fading. I hold strong to her hand and never hesitate to stand tall at her back, waiting for the day she’ll use me and accepting the fate that she might not.

The car rocks to a stop, and Gerry from the funeral home holds the door open to greet us on arrival. Josie doesn’t move, though, her stare so hard I’m almost sure she’s using it to will reality to break.

“Josie,” I whisper to get her attention. She sucks in a breath, almost like she’s had moving air into her lungs on hold for the entire drive, her eyes fluttering to mine. “We’re here.”

She scoots to the edge of her seat, and I put my hands to her hips to help her climb out.

The sun is bright and highlights the trees beautifully, a cacophony of colors raining down their leaves all around us. It’s a stark background for the black of all the funeral-goers, and the walk to the grave site feels painful and tortured.

Josie walks ahead, her eyes to her feet as she traverses the dying grass in heels, and I stay close to be there if she needs me.

My tie swings in the space between us and highlights the significance of the occasion. I’m a jeans and boots guy every day. But not today. Grandma Rose deserves my very finest.

A crowd of townspeople follow us, a wave of despair so profound none of them have even tried to get me to talk about city council issues.

Sheriff Pete catches up to me and holds out a hand, and I take it to shake as we enter the shaded space of the pop-up tent that covers the gravesite and Grandma’s casket.

It’s a huge change in light, so it takes my eyes a moment to adjust, but when they do, I see an older woman and an early twenties girl with remarkably familiar curls sitting in the front row.

Josie sees them at the very same time.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” They’re the first words out of my wife’s mouth the whole day, and her voice is raw from disuse, adding even more of an edge.

She marches straight over to them and pulls the older woman out of her seat with rough hands. “Mother, you’ve got some fucking nerve coming here,” Josie grinds out, her whole body strung so tight, I’m worried she’ll break.

I’m also quick to deduce why both women look so familiar. It’s Eleanor and Norah Ellis, Josie’s mother and sister. I’ve never met them, but I’ve heard enough about them through town gossip and from what little Josie has revealed to me to know this isn’t an ideal situation at all.

City meeting small town head on, they’re dressed in luxury-brand clothes I know from my former life as a rich prick. Her mom’s face is callous and careless, and her younger sister Norah cowers behind her imposing figure like a lost puppy.

“She was my mother-in-law,” Eleanor spits. “I have every right to be here.”

“Over my dead body,” Josie threatens, her hand shaking with the load of adrenaline dumping into her veins. I step forward to help, but Sheriff Peeler pushes me back, his eyes begging me not to get involved. Instead, he does, placing himself between Josie and Eleanor.

“I think you need to leave, Ellie.”

“I’m not fucking leaving, and you can’t make me.

” Eleanor is stubborn, digging her heels into the grass and pitching her nose high in the air as if she’s better than everyone here.

“I’m mourning just as much as anyone else, my daughter has a right to say goodbye to her grandmother, and we have a right to be here to discuss Rose’s will. ”

“ Discuss her will? Are you that much of a psychopath that you came here to see if there was money for you to get? You’re the last fucking person she’d put in her will!

” Josie yells, pushing into Pete’s body so forcefully, he has to hold her back.

“Grandma Rose is turning over in her casket at the sight of you. And Norah isn’t your only daughter, Mom . News flash, but you had three .”

I’ve heard lore of Josie and Norah’s third sister, Jezzy, who died as a toddler, through whispers in town.

I’ve seen her tattoo and her necklace she wears to honor her.

But watching her confront her mother about the truth head on and hearing the pain in her voice is like a kick to the fucking stomach.

I step forward and stand behind my wife, but Norah already has her by the elbow. “Josie, stop. Now isn’t the time for this.”

Josie guffaws. “Ha! You can tell you don’t know a damn thing about your grandma either, Nore. Rose hated her!” she yells, pointing at Eleanor, “And she’d be absolutely disgusted to see you drinking the Kool-Aid.”

“Jose,” I whisper, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her back slightly. But she fights out of my hold, and I let her. Stifling her need to let all this out is about the last thing I can imagine will help.

Bennett’s truck pulls to a stop at the curb with the rest of the cars, and when he sees the mayhem, he gets out and starts moving this way on a jog.

“Ellie, you can leave now, or I’m going to have to help you leave,” Pete finally says, nodding at Deputy Felix Rice to come help if he needs.

“Fine,” Eleanor decrees, pushing through Pete and grabbing Norah by the elbow aggressively.

“We’ll leave, but it’s not because you’re telling us to.

It’s because I’m disgusted and ashamed of what my eldest daughter has become,” she says directly to Josie, and an anger lights in my chest and threatens to burn the whole place down.

Norah’s cheeks are pink as Eleanor drags her away, but she doesn’t say a word in Josie’s defense either. I can’t imagine how betrayed Josie must feel.

Bennett arrives just as they’re climbing in their car to go, and I steer Josie around to sit in one of the chairs in the front row, squatting in front of her. “You okay, baby?” I ask, putting my hands to her knees.

“You guys okay?” Bennett asks, trying to get a look at the offending assholes but missing them entirely as they drive away.

Josie shakes her head and mutters angrily to herself. “That woman is cancer. She eats you alive until you’re nothing of yourself anymore.”

“Who the fuck was that?” I hear Bennett ask Sheriff Pete, but Pete’s voice is low enough that I don’t quite hear what he says in response. It doesn’t matter anyway. My priority is my wife.

No one knows yet that that’s what she is to me, of course, but there’s time. When all the dust settles and Josie feels more like herself, we’ll let people know.

But right now, there are important things to handle.

“I hate her so much, Clay,” Josie whispers, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I know.” I gently squeeze her thighs. “But for as much gall as she had showing up here, today isn’t about her.” Her eyes flick up to meet mine, a sheen of tears still coating them. “Let’s lay Rose to rest,” I suggest softly, and with a racking shake in her chest, her cry welling, she nods.

I climb out of my squat and into the chair next to her, offering my hand in her lap so she can hold it. Her grip is tight, and the tips of her nails dig into the skin of my palm.

I welcome the sting of it, hoping it’ll give me some of her pain.

Reverend Bob steps forward to take a spot at the casket, and the rest of the crowd files in around us to fill the rest of the seats and all of the standing space within a twenty-foot radius.

A gorgeous spray of white flowers sits atop the deep-colored wood casket, a piece I know Josie picked out with care while she was making the arrangements this week.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming out today to commune in the joy that Rose Ellis brought to our lives. Our earthly world is cruel in its timing, but our Father, our God, bestows it as divine. As Rose is enveloped in heaven’s arms, we must seek solace in the arms of one another and find camaraderie in the love Rose made us feel. ”

Josie licks her lips and clenches my hand even tighter, and her knee shakes as she bounces it, desperate to channel her grief somewhere.

“It’s our time to mourn, but we must remember that Rose is not.

Her earthly body is retired, but her spirit lives on in all of us and Christ himself.

Rose was a pinnacle in our town, a beacon for community and friendship I know personally we’ll all treasure for a long time to come.

She was also a child of the Lord and a woman of repentance.

I know she’ll find a welcome and most perfect home on the other side, and I hope you’ll join me in my confidence.

God has called his daughter home, and I know he’ll provide her with the tenderness and care we so wish we could. ”

I bring Josie’s hand to my mouth to kiss the back of it, and as a sob racks her body, I pull her in close with an arm over her shoulders.

Reverend Bob places his Bible on the casket and bows his head to pray. Everyone around us does the same, but I look directly at Josie, my priority to give her any level of comfort she’ll accept.

“Our dearest God, please grant your grace to us living with pain—and to our dearly departed Rose, a most peaceful rest. Please guide us through this time, and light the way to You, your courage, support, and wisdom. Let Rose continue to bestow her knowledge and encouragement on us and allow us the insight to know she’s with You.

Blessed we are to have known you, Rose. In Jesus’s name, Amen. ”

“Amen.”

I’ll take it from here, Rose , I vow with my heart and soul, tears carving down my cheeks and ending in a salted pool at the corners of my lips. I promise I’ve got our girl.