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Authors: Elissa Lewallen

BOOK: Ice
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There were no words to describe how I felt, except for the simplest ones:

“I love you, too,” I said quietly, and kissed him.

Chapter Twenty-Three:
Funeral

 

 

It was on the news the next day that the Factory would not be reopening due to the expenses it suffered from two fires. All of us were in Kavick’s room again, and we immediately celebrated upon hearing the news.

In time, Kavick made a full recovery.

The next day, I went back to school, which also happened to be the last day before school was out for Fall Break. Molly wond
ered why Marcus wasn’t there. I told her that Marcus and I had an argument and that he wanted to go back home.

Molly said in mild surprise, “Huh…I thought for sure he had a thing for you.”

She then, of course, hounded me for details, which I quickly put an end to by saying that was all I was telling her.

After Kavick was out of the hospital, whenever he and I would go to the diner, Margaret and some of the regulars would ask me why Marcus left. All Marcus had told Margaret was that he had to leave immediately, because there was an emergency.

I would shrug and say vaguely, “He told me his mother wanted him to come back home.”

Marcus had told me that
before, so I was using it as an excuse to get out of telling them the real reason behind his leaving.

Just as Christmas Break was nearing (the day after Kavick’s birthday, actually), Justin and I talked about me visiting my ailing Grandpa Ellis. He said he had saved up enough money for me to go to
California. I told him I didn’t want to go without him, though, and would wait until he could afford to come with me.

When I called my Aunt Suzie a few days later to ask how my grandpa was doing, she told me that he had suddenly gone down hill and that she was afraid he would pass soon. Apparently, he had developed pneumonia a couple of weeks ago and she hadn’t bothered to call me.

When I hung up the phone, I turned to Kavick who had walked up beside me. He had come over earlier to have dinner with me and Justin that night, something we had started doing from time to time. We still hadn’t told anyone about our relationship, even though Kavick had made it clear to Tartok that he was never going to marry Anana. He saw the worried look on my face. “Do you want me to go with you?”

I nodded, finding it hard to speak. I remembered Suzanne calling in the past, saying he was pretty bad, but she had never given me any details and hadn’t called since. Now, he had
pneumonia.
I felt blind sided by the news. Why hadn’t she called a couple of weeks ago when he was diagnosed?

I told him and Justin that I had to leave as soon as possible and explained what Suzanne had told me on the phone.

The following morning I boarded a plane with Kavick. The airport had been a horrible, crazy experience, and there was a lay over, of course. When I finally got off the plane, I was greeted by Aunt Suzie. As soon as our hellos had been exchanged, she told me he had passed. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t got a chance to tell my dear old grandpa goodbye and how much I loved him.

“I don’t understand,” I said tearfully while Suzanne drove me to her house. Kavick held my hand in the backseat, a silent comfort that was exactly what I needed. My voice was muffled from the tissue I kept planted to my face to keep my nose dry and to catch the tears. I hated crying, especially in front of people, but I couldn’t control it. “It happened so fast.”

“He just wasn’t strong enough to fight it,” she said sadly, like it was just a simple fact of life.

But, you were supposed to be taking care of him,
I thought angrily.

Of course
, she wasn’t taking care of him; that’s why she put him in a nursing home. That was the last place Grandpa Ellis would ever want to be. However, my anger quickly subsided. I was too sad to stay angry.

“So, who’s your friend?” she asked with a strangely chipper tone to her voice just after speaking about Grandpa’s death. It seemed a bit forced; I could hear the underlying tone of dislike. No doubt she wished I could have arrived with Marcus, instead.

I explained that he was my friend “Kevin” from Alaska.

She immediately asked if I had talked to Marcus since he moved back to
California. She also asked why when I told her I hadn’t, to which I said things ended badly and I didn’t feel like talking about it just after hearing Grandpa had died.

The rest of the drive to her house was strangely quiet. But, I preferred it that way.

Suzanne insisted on us staying at her home until after the funeral. I was shocked at hearing this, since she had said she didn’t have room for me to stay with her when my parents had died. I told Kavick about that on the plane ride, so he seemed equally surprised.

“Oh no, I can’t,” I said. “You don’t possibly have the room with four boys there.”

“Of course I have room for you, Honey!” she said sweetly.

I felt my jaw drop, shocked at the sudden change in her story.

When we took our suitcases into the house, her boys, the oldest being thirteen and the youngest five, all said that they liked Kavick’s hair. The oldest told Suzanne that he was going to dye his hair the same way, to which she promptly told him in a furious voice that he would
not
unless he wanted to be disowned.

I slept on the couch and Kavick slept in the floor of one of the boys’ rooms.

Everyday was a nightmare there.

As soon as I would step into the bathroom in the morning, one of the boys would start pounding on the door, saying he needed in. Another morning while Kavick and I were half asleep brushing our teeth, two of the boys came running in with their football and hit Kavick in the head. I don’t know if he even felt it, he was so out of it, though. His eyes were barely open.
I wondered if the boys kept him up late.

As soon as we sat down for breakfast the first day, the kids started running around screaming at each other and Suzanne in turn would scream at them to shut up.

Kavick had taken all of two bites of his toast when he asked me if I wanted to go out for breakfast. We spent as much time away from the house as we could to get away from the noise, and the next day we went out for breakfast again.

The day of the funeral was too hectic for us to eat anything. Kavick insisted I at least try to eat a few bites so I wouldn’t feel weak later, but I was too upset for that. It was sinking in all over again that my Grandpa Ellis was gone.

Kavick stayed close to me while I got ready. Of course, he was ready in no time like most guys, but I had to keep re-applying my makeup because I kept crying.

I took off my black heels in the bathroom, my feet hurting from standing at the sink for so long. For once the boys weren’t screaming for the bathroom; instead, they were screaming about not wanting to wear ties.

Kavick stood beside me, watching me in the mirror cry my mascara away and then have to wipe it away to put on more.

“He was so kind,” I said, crying
like a baby. There had been so much tragedy in such a short amount of time: my parents’ deaths earlier in the year, Kavick getting shot, Marcus being the one behind it, and now this. It was supposed to be a trip to see my Grandpa, not mourn his death. “He was always so pleasant and joyful, and—and….”

I
couldn’t go on. I silently cried into the sink, leaning on the lavatory. Kavick wrapped his arm around me.

When I finally stopped, I mumbled between my sniffs about having to put more makeup on. He then told me I was already beautiful and didn’t need it. He was probably just getting tired of waiting on me, but it had sounded so genuine. Once again I was touched by how sweet Kavick could be.

When we finally arrived at the funeral home sometime later for the service, many people I hadn’t seen since I was a baby were there, and told me exactly that, just like at my parents’ funeral. However, there were a lot more people at my Grandpa’s than my parents’.

Before the service, I could hear people talking in hushed tones, and they were all saying the same thing: this wouldn’t
have happened if he hadn’t been put in a home. He had gotten depressed in the nursing home and so he hadn’t been able to fight off the pneumonia. Some say he might have even wanted to die, he had been in such bad spirits.

I knew Kavick had heard them, and probably realized I had, as well. He held my hand and never let go for the whole service.

             

After the service and the burial, Suzanne whisked us away to her Hummer (she didn’t take her silver Lexis that time
, because all of us couldn’t fit in her car), saying we were heading back to her house where the lawyer would read Grandpa’s will.

I hadn’t even known he had a will, but wasn’t surprised considering his age. I had never heard or cared about such things whenever I had helped my mother look after him.

The lawyer was waiting in his car when we drove up to her big white house (which was much bigger than Kavick’s, by the way, despite his family having been bigger). When she got out she said cheerfully, “I hope you haven’t been waiting long!”

I still had a tissue to my nose. I fell out of the Hummer, grabbing Kavick in time to keep from landing on my face.

“You okay?” he asked worried.

“Yeah,” I said, standing up straight to reclaim my dignity, which I realized was impossible when a tissue was glued to your face. “Thanks,” I said as I tugged the wrinkles out of the jacket of my black skirt suit.

We walked into the house and all of us took a seat in the dining room. The lawyer sat his briefcase on the table and glanced at the papers through his square glasses. “Mr. Ellis Harris didn’t divide his assets. His last will and testament is very clear and simple.”

Suzanne’s face twitched in a funny way just for a second. “Was it changed after May of this year? If so, then that was while he was in the nursing home and might not have been thinking properly….”

I looked over at her and said, “I thought you said he just had pneumonia?”

Her eyes widened at me like she was surprised I had spoken. “Well, yes, but he was ill, so he wasn’t feeling well and that co
uld have impaired his judgment.”

I didn’t argue with her, but I was beginning to fear she was going to fight what Grandpa wanted if it wasn’t what she wanted. I didn’t care what it said, just as long as Grandpa’s last wishes were
honored.

The lawyer proceeded then. “It’s dated March 1st, two-thousand and eight.”

He glanced up to see if there were any objections about the date. Suzanne seemed more relaxed then. She waved her hand and said, “Go ahead.”

He returned to the paper and read aloud. “‘I, Ellis Melvin Harris, of sound mind on this first day of March of two-thousand and eight, leave all of my assets to my oldest daughter, Dianne Christine Bi
rch, including my house in California, and the twenty acres of property I own in Texas.”

I dropped my Kleenex.

Suzanne didn’t seem surprised, though. She actually frowned.

The lawyer looked at me, being the only other woman besides Aunt Suzanne
, whom he clearly already knew. “Are you Ms. Birch?”

“Uh…” I said, blinking as I tried to compose myself. “I’m her daughter. Dianne Birch is deceased. She died earlier this year in a car accident with my father.”

“So he is deceased, also,” the lawyer stated, nodding as he put the paper away and traded it with several new papers from his briefcase.

“Yes,” I said, still processing everything.

“He sold his property in California last year after he entered the nursing home, so here is the deed to the land in Texas and a copy of the contract for the mineral rights.”

I felt my jaw drop as I took the papers from him. “Mineral rights?”

Once again, Suzanne didn’t seem to be surprised by this news.

The lawyer seemed surprised that I was so shocked. “Yes. The land is currently under contract. You’ve just inherited all of your Grandfather’s assets, and that is all he had since, as I mentioned bef
ore, he had sold his house upon entering the nursing home. My condolences for your loss.”

He then snapped his briefcase shut and stood. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

My Uncle Carter, who I had rarely seen since I got here because of his work, was gaping at the lawyer. Apparently, he was shocked, too. He was the type who always looked like he was going to the office, even on his day off. His suit for the funeral looked like the same one he wore to work the other morning. His dark hair was neatly slicked back with too much gel and he wore extremely thin wire rimmed glasses.

“That’ll be all, thank you,” Suzanne said, standing to show the lawyer out. She wasn’t cheery like she had been when she greeted him, but she was the only one that didn’t seem surprised by the will.

I sat there, stunned silly, staring at the papers in my hands.

“What’s wrong?” Kavick asked me in a low voice.

“I had no idea…about any of this,” I said, whispering to him so that Uncle Carter wouldn’t hear, since he was glaring daggers at me. “I had heard he used to work in the oil business—that’s how my mother met my father—but that was so long ago…no one had ever mentioned the land in Texas to me.”

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