The UN Series Complete Box Set (49 page)

I need to clear my head, to think about something else. I start rifling through the cabinets for something to cook.

I find a container of noodles and see a glass jar of spaghetti sauce. I open the freezer and find some frozen meat in there. I frown; it’s the only thing in there. How was she eating?

I pull my earbuds out of my front pocket and plug them into my phone. I download the Pandora app and sign into my account. I want to, once again, drown everything else out.

I know it seems like I’m ignoring everyone and maybe that’s what I am doing. I just need to keep my emotions in check. Courtney had pissed me off when she mentioned Slade missing so much work lately. I know it’s the truth. That doesn’t mean she has to point it out in front of Mark and everyone else. I don’t know how much missing work affects him, and I don’t want Mark to think that I don’t care about his son, that I only think of myself. Because I don’t. I know Slade loves his job.

Courtney has always been the type of girl to tell you how she sees it, even if you think she sees it wrong. Witnessing my breakdown obviously told her that I am in need of help, but all I need is Slade. I know that I can get through anything with him by my side.

I pull out a pan and start frying the meat. Does everyone feel the same way as Slade? Should I not have been as happy about moving in with him as I am? I will forever blame myself for the lack of time I had with my mother, but will they always bring it up?

I had just put the meat in the strainer when I see two hands flatten on the counter in front of me.

I look up to see Slade standing there with a blank face.

I pull the earbuds out. “Yes?” I smile, not wanting to fight with him. I just want us to be happy, not bring each other down.

He frowns, and it makes my shoulders slump. “There’s a Walter here to see you,” he says carefully.

I nod and pick up the towel next to me, wiping off my hands.

“Walter.” I gesture for him to sit at the table. I take the chair across from him and Slade comes to sit next to me. I don’t hear any other voices in the house. I wonder where everyone has gone.

Walter takes a deep breath as his brown eyes land on mine. “I want to start out by saying I’m so sorry, Samantha. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.”

I reach out, grabbing Slade’s hand. “I’m okay.” I give him a small smile. I will be okay. I will do what my mom wanted…live my life.

Walter scrunches his brow, then after a few seconds, he opens up a manila envelope. “Your mom has arranged everything. She has left you the house, her Tahoe, and also your dad’s car, the one he had left to her.”

“Yeah, she told me all of that in the note she left me.” He nods. “How much does she owe on the house?” Would he know the answer to that?

“It’s paid for.”

“What?” I question. “I know Dad built it for her as a wedding present, but she took out a loan against it when I was in eighth grade.” The only reason I know that was because I overheard the fight they had about it. Dad was mad that Mom hadn’t told him she needed money. Instead of going to him, she had borrowed against the house. She explained that her husband wouldn’t want her borrowing money from her ex-husband. It had been a very heated discussion.

He shakes his head. “Your dad paid it off not two months after she borrowed on it.”

How did I not know that? I guess parents don’t discuss financial business with their children.

“I’m sure you could get three hundred thousand for it. It’s a beautiful home in a secluded neighborhood. The school district—”

I cut him off. “What do you mean, ‘get three hundred thousand for it’?”

“Selling it.” He looks from me to Slade. “You are going to sell it, aren’t you?”

“No! Why would I sell it?”

“Because you live in St. Louis. You already have your father’s home here in Tulsa,” he reminds me, like I could forget.

“My dad built this home for my mother. I would never sell it,” I state in a bitchy tone. Slade squeezes my hand and I look over at him. He’s giving me a small smile but I can tell it’s forced. He’s starting to get aggravated with Walter as much as I am.

“My apologies.” He pulls out some papers. “Your mother has left all of the information you will need. She will go to Malcom’s Funeral Home. The process will take a couple of days but you will have to go sign a release.”

I don’t have the slightest idea what he is talking about, but that doesn’t matter. The way he said it knocked the wind out of me. I try to gulp in some air, but I’m getting nothing.

“What do you mean?” Slade questions, he can tell I’m having problems breathing.

“That’s the process for the crematory. Even though Marie had a will stating she wanted to be cremated, Oklahoma law states that Sam has to sign off for it.”

“What?” I ask, hyperventilating. “Cre—” I can’t even finish the word.

“You didn’t know her wishes?” Walter looks from me to Slade, wide-eyed.

“No,” Slade barks. “She doesn’t know anything. So watch how you fucking word things,” he growls.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Samantha. I thought you said she had left you a letter with what she had requested.”

“That wasn’t in there,” I whisper. “Why does she want to be cremated?” That thought never even crossed my mind.

“Well, your father was cremated. Your mother was an only child. Her parents are buried in Texas.” He shrugs, looking down at the table.

I release Slade’s hand and place my elbows on the table. I let my head fall in my hands as tears well up in my eyes. It’s not that the thought of burying her was any better, it’s just I never thought that she would want to be cremated. It’s like this nightmare is never-ending.

“Can you give us a minute?” I hear Slade ask Walter.

I feel Slade’s hand on my back as the sobs rack my body and the tears come pouring out, landing on the table. I don’t know if I can do this. Any of this.

Slade wraps an arm around my side and pulls my upper body into his muscular chest. I cry into his shirt. Once again clinging to him, needing him, showing him how weak I am. Why do I feel like every time I have myself under control something new comes along and knocks me back to the ground?

“It’s going to be okay, Angel.” Slade runs his hand down my back over my hair. “I’m right here,” he whispers.

I pull away from him, trying to rein in my emotions once again. He takes my face in his hands, wiping the tears with his thumbs. I’m glad I didn’t bother with makeup today. “I love you,” he says, looking into my eyes.

“I love you too,” I reply in between hiccups.

He gives a little chuckle. “Do you want me to throw him out?” He grins, finding amusement in that thought.

I laugh as I wipe the remainder of the tears from my eyes. “No. I need to finish this.” I look down at my hands sitting in my lap, and then back up to Slade. “I just want to get this part over with.”

He nods and gets up from the table to retrieve Walter. For the next hour, the three of us sit at the table discussing everything that my mother had wanted. From her belongings to her ashes. There were times I couldn’t hold back the tears, and I just let them fall. Slade held my hand the entire time and spoke for me when I couldn’t. It was like he was reading my mind, and I was thankful for that.

*****

“Thank you for coming over, I was going to come to you.” I reach out to shake Walter’s hand as we stand by the front door.

He looks down at my hand before pulling me into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Sam.” He releases me and backs away. “Your dad and I were close friends. I always told him I would look out for you, and then you go and move away. Please keep in touch. If you need anything, call me. I will do whatever I can to help you with what you need. And Slade.” He reaches his right hand out to him. “Take care of her.”

Slade shakes his hand and then wraps an arm around my shoulders “I will.”

Walter turns and walks out the front door and Slade closes it behind him.

“Where is everybody?” I ask, on my way back into the kitchen.

“They went out for lunch. When Walter showed up, they wanted to give you some privacy.”

I get back to work on preparing the pasta. Slade places his hand over mine, stopping me from pulling the strainer out of the sink. “What are you doing, Angel?”

I look up to see him frowning. “Making spaghetti.”

“You don’t have to cook anything.”

“I guess I should be doing other things right now.” My mom had said that she wanted me to get rid of all of her belongings. She wanted me to give everything to charity, to people less fortunate.

Slade grabs my hand and turns me to face him. “I’m sorry, Angel. You have plenty of time to do the other stuff. If you want to make spaghetti then make spaghetti. I’ll help you with the rest of the things that need to get done.”

“Thanks, baby.” I lean forward and wrap my arms around him. His chest moves as he breathes, and I’m suddenly very aware of how close we are. I feel as if he hasn’t touched me since we were in bed this morning. We are here alone and I want to take advantage of that.

I pull back and push my hands up into his hair. He closes his eyes and lets out a low moan. I bring his face down to mine and his hands seek my hair. I close my eyes as my lips brush his. He kisses me sweetly, our lips working together. I slide my tongue into his mouth. I want him, badly. I need him inside of me. Sometimes you need more than words, this is one of those times. I need him to show me that he’s here for me, that he still wants me.

My breath hitches as he tugs on my hair. “Slade,” I rasp into his mouth, releasing his head and placing my hands under his shirt. I want to feel the warmth of his skin. I run my hands over his stomach and push his shirt up, trailing over his muscles and onto his chest.

He lets go of my hair and grasps my hips, lifting me up and placing me on top of the counter. My legs instantly wrap around his waist, locking him in. I am so worked up I am ready to fuck him right here on my mom’s kitchen island.

I pull away from his mouth and place my lips on his neck, licking my way up to his ear.

“Angel,” he pants, “we shouldn’t….”

“Yes, we should,” I whisper in his ear. His body shivers and I reach down to feel his hard dick pressing against his jeans.

He grabs my face and kisses me hard, taking my breath away. I feel a throbbing sensation between my legs and my heart begins to race. I need him, need him to take away the pain that I can’t seem to shake myself. I know an hour with him will feel like heaven, a dream. I want him to take me away and give me some sense of security in this horrible life.

He pulls away all of a sudden, holding my hips, and jerks me off the counter. I stumble on my shaky legs. I think he is going to carry me off to the bedroom, but instead he starts fixing his shirt and my hair.

“What are you doing?” I question as I try to catch my breath. He looks unfazed, put together, and is breathing normal, a complete one eighty from how he was acting five seconds ago. He looks nothing like how I feel. I feel shaken up and out of control.

I peer into his blue eyes as they search my shirt. “We have stuff to do,” is all he says as he turns and walks out of the kitchen.

I stand there, stunned, chest heaving. That’s the second time he has turned me down today. Not counting the first time this morning, when Micah interrupted us.

What happened?

Should I not want him?

He said earlier that he was going to give me space, but he was still here. He sat next to me while Walter was here. He chose to stay with me while his family went out to eat lunch. But when it comes to physical contact, he doesn’t want it. Is that what he meant by space? He doesn’t want to be intimate with me? What did I say to make him decide that? I was just ready to have sex in the kitchen and instead, he turned around and walked out.

I hear the front door open and close. Coming out of the kitchen, I look down the hall to the front door, but there’s no one there. I had expected to see everyone walking in from lunch. Instead, the house is quiet. I cross the living room to the window, just in time to see Slade’s rental car pulling out of the driveway. Where is he going? Have I pissed him off?

I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t have the energy to figure it out right now. Maybe he’s going through something, too. I haven’t heard him talk about work, but I know even though he’s not there, he’s still getting emails, and phone calls. He was right; we do have more important things to do.

Once again, I go attempt to make the pasta, plugging my earbuds back into my ears. As soon as I am finished with dinner, I am going to go to bed. I know it’s only midafternoon, but I just want a warm bath and some sleep. The last two days have sucked away all of my energy, and I am too drained to even try to figure out what the hell is wrong with Slade. It’s probably just his job. Hopefully it will blow over soon.

CHAPTER THREE

SLADE

I readjust my pants as I drive. Fuck, I had to get out of there. She does not need me the way she wants me. She needs my encouraging words and love. She does not need a temporary fix. She needs me to be strong so she can be weak, in case she needs to fall apart. Not fuck her to take her mind off her problems momentarily.

I wanted to reach over and punch Walter when he started talking to her, like her mother hadn’t just passed away. I could tell she was having trouble breathing and was about to break down. All I can do is hold her and reassure her that I am here for her and will stay with her. No matter how hurt she is, I will not leave her.

That’s what I keep reminding myself as I drive. She told Walter that she was going to pack up all of her mom’s things and give them to charity. I need to help and do my part. Therefore, I left to get her some boxes.

Angel said we were only going to stay a couple more days. She didn’t want me missing any more work. I had tried to tell her that work could wait, but she wasn’t listening. What Courtney said earlier was really bothering her. I never want Angel to think that my work is more important than she is. She is the most important thing in my life. She is my world. I would hate for her to think that she is less than my everything.

I try to focus on the road, even though I have no idea where the fuck I am. I have never been to Tulsa before, and my mind continues fantasizing about fucking her on that kitchen countertop. What is up with her? Every time she touches me, it’s more desperate than the last. I want to be gentle, to make love to her once again, but there’s no way I will be able to stay soft when she has her hands on me.

I shake my head, pull into a Quiktrip and dig my cell out of my pocket. I type Tulsa, Oklahoma into my GPS, looking for a Lowe’s.

Twenty minutes later I’m walking through Lowe’s trying to find what I need when my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and see that it’s my brother.

“Hello?”

“Hey, man, where are you?”

“I’m at Lowe’s picking up some stuff.” I walk down aisle after aisle looking for the fucking boxes.

“Oh, okay.” He lets out a deep breath.

“Is something wrong?” I come to a stop in the ceiling fan aisle.

“No, we were just worried. We weren’t here long before Sam went up to her room. She told us she made dinner, then just turned around and went upstairs,” he says sadly.

I start walking again, but my heart hurts for her. I can’t help but feel this hole in my chest, especially when I think back to her lying on the floor in her mother’s room, everything around her destroyed.

“Walter upset her with a few things she didn’t know. She probably just wants to be alone.” That’s how she is. She does not like people to see her when she is down. Doesn’t she know that anyone else would be just as heartbroken if it had been their mother who had died? “She just needs some time,” I assure him, as I find myself once again wandering aimlessly in this store.

“Okay, well we will see you when you get here.”

I turn around as a man is walking toward me. “Where are the boxes?” I ask, obviously frustrated.

“How many do you need?” He takes off towards the front of the store.

I run a hand through my hair. Shit, I don’t know how many it will take.

Thirty minutes later, I walk out of the store with three hundred dollars’ worth of boxes. When I get back to the house, everyone is in the kitchen. I look around and notice they are all talking and laughing. It breaks my heart that Angel is upstairs, probably crying her eyes out.

“What’s everyone doing?” I sit down at the table next to Micah.

“Just visiting.” Holly looks over at me. “What’s the plan?” she asks as she pops a cookie in her mouth.

“Well, I know you guys said you were staying until Saturday, but after Angel talked to Walter, she wants to head back on Friday. She wants to spend tomorrow packing up all of her mom’s stuff and taking it to a shelter here. Then she wants to drive her mother’s Tahoe back to St. Louis.” We both had only purchased a one-way plane ticket since we didn’t know how long we would be here. “Oh, and we have her dad’s car that’s out in the garage to bring back as well, but I don’t want her making the drive alone. So I will drive her in the Tahoe.” I turn to Micah. “Will you drive her dad’s car back? I’ll reimburse you for however much your plane ticket was.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Of course I will drive it back and you’re not going to pay for my ticket.”

I look around at all of them. “I’ll pay for everyone’s ticket. I know they will probably charge you a fee to change the return flight.”

“You’re not going to pay for our flights. Coming here was the least we could have done. We see Sam as part of our family, and you do anything for family,” my dad says as he rubs a hand up and down my mom’s back.

I just stare at them, feeling my chest swell with pride. Will she see my family as her family? I want her to be my wife someday. She didn’t think twice before she said yes about moving in with me. Will marriage be too big of a step? Will this set her back? I’m getting ahead of myself once again. I know I just need to give her time.

I stand up from the table. “I’m going to go to bed,” I announce to no one in particular. It’s not late but I’m fucking exhausted from the lack of sleep last night. I have a feeling tomorrow will be an emotional day for Angel, having to pack up all of her mother’s belongings.

I walk up the stairs and slowly open her door. She is pulling a clean shirt over her head. “What are you doing?” I question, hoping she doesn’t mention my leaving earlier.

“I have to go to the funeral home.” She walks over to her bed and picks up her purse.

“Okay. Let me use the bathroom real quick and I will go with you.”

“No.” She turns to face me, and for the first time I notice the circles under her eyes and how much smaller her body appears. She looks exhausted and alone. I feel a stab of guilt in my chest about leaving her earlier. She needs me. I walked away when she wanted me, and now she is going to push me away.

“I want to go alone.” She places her purse over her shoulder and walks over to her closet. She picks up a garment bag hanging on the door.

“What’s in that?”

“I picked out an outfit for my mother. I want to view her before….” She pauses and it tears me apart. “Before”—she swallows—“they cremate her. And in order for me to view her, they have to embalm her. So, I picked out her favorite outfit.” She stops and looks down at the floor. “Well, her favorite outfit from what I remember.” She takes a deep breath, making her way to her bedroom door. “I want to have a memorial service here at the house before we head back. So we won’t be leaving by Friday,” is the last thing she says to me before she walks out, leaving me standing there, praying that what I did earlier did not destroy us. So what if sex only temporarily fixes her problem? She needs me and I abandoned her.

I sigh, feeling like an ass for walking out on her. I head back downstairs to visit with everyone. I sure as hell don’t want to sit up here with my thoughts of how much I have fucked up today.

*****

SAMANTHA

I walk out of the house without saying anything to anyone. After I had finished cooking, I went up to my room and took a nice hot bath. I was going to lie down and try to take a nap, but first I had to call the funeral home that my mother wanted to use.

After discussing the necessary arrangements with the funeral director, I went to her room and looked through her clothes. I picked out the dress that she had worn for her and my dad’s wedding reception. She always told me that she would have worn it every day if she could, that she loved it more than her actual wedding dress. My grandmother had chosen her wedding dress, and although it was gorgeous, my mom always said, “It just wasn’t me, not my style.”

I laugh to myself as I drive down the highway, remembering the way she would curl her lip, scrunch her nose, and shake her head when she spoke. She always had the funniest facial expressions.

I made the decision to go to the funeral home alone. Slade obviously has something on his mind, and I don’t need him to hold me every time I shed a tear. I have to see her, even though I know it’s no longer her, and I have to tell her how sorry I am. Sorry that I wasn’t there, that I ran when she gave me the chance. I have to let it all out or it will forever eat at me. I want her to know that she means the world to me. That even though I thought she didn’t want anything to do with me, I still loved her, every second of every day. She was my mother and not even cancer can take that from me.

I wipe a tear from my cheek as I pull into the parking lot. I get out, carrying her dress and my purse. I steel myself as I walk in the front doors.

“Hello. My name is Shirley,” greets an older woman with a blonde bob. “What can I do for you?”

“I talked with a Mr. Hopkins earlier. He said that I needed to sign some paperwork.”

“Please follow me.” She takes me down a hallway, soft elevator music filters in from speakers above. We come to an open door at the end of the hall.

“Mr. Hopkins. This lovely lady is here to see you.”

He stands up from behind his desk and offers me his hand. “Hello. Miss Hall, is it?

“Yes.” I reach out my hand to shake his.

“Please have a seat.” He gestures to one of the chairs facing his desk.

I take a deep breath as I sit down, trying to remind myself to stay calm. Freaking out right now would not be in anyone’s best interest.

He sorts through some papers and then hands me one. “This just states that you release her body to us and that we have your permission to cremate her.”

“What do you mean, release her to you?” I question, as I sign my name, not bothering to read what he just explained.

“She is still at the morgue,” he tells me as he takes the papers from my hand.

“Is that the normal procedure or is something wrong?” I ask, panic overtaking me. Why would she be in the morgue? I was under the assumption she was already here.

“Oh, it’s proper procedure, nothing to worry about,” he reassures.

I sigh as I lean back in my chair. I blink a few times, trying to hold back tears. I feel so lost and alone right now. I don’t know anything about this stuff. I wish I didn’t have to do any of it. But there’s no one else and I would hate to miss a chance to be there for my mom.

I look down to see her dress lying over my legs. “I brought an outfit for her.” I pat the garment bag softly.

“Let me take that.” He stands up and reaches for it. “It will take a couple of days for the process.” He hangs the bag up on a hook nailed to the wall and then sits back down. “She will be transferred here and we will embalm her. You can come in, view her and then we will cremate her. You said over the phone that you would like to do a memorial service?”

“Yes.” I pause, not knowing what to say. “I haven’t seen my mom in five years,” I whisper, not wanting him to judge me, or my mother for that matter. “I don’t know who all to tell about it.” I feel a tear slide down my cheek.

He reaches over to grab a tissue out of a box. “You can write the obituary, and I can place it in the paper for you,” he informs me, while handing over the tissue.

“Okay,” I say as I feel a lump catch in my throat. “I can do that.”

“I’m truly sorry for your loss.” He gives me another tissue. “I am here to help you through this. Do you have any questions?”

I nod slowly. “An urn, do you have any here?”

“We do. Would you like to see them?”

I take a deep breath, willing the tears to stop. My mother is dead. I just saw her three days ago. I thought that I was going to get to be in her life again and instead she was taken from me, for good.

I sit in my rental car outside of my mother’s house. I didn’t want to drive the Tahoe, I don’t know if I ever will. It was hers, not mine. That’s actually why I never came back to live in my dad’s house. I just couldn’t do it. It was all too painful. Slade once said that I’m the strongest person he knows. I wonder how he would feel about me if he knew how truly weak I really was.

I picked out an urn and wrote a eulogy before I left the funeral home. It was hard, and I didn’t know what to say, but I wanted to do it. Mr. Hopkins was even nice enough to leave me alone while I cried my eyes out. I don’t know who my mother’s friends were now, but I wanted them to know she had passed, and for them to have the opportunity to come and pay their respects.

Mr. Hopkins said he would call me when she was ready for me to view. I dread that call. I dread having to see her like that. I’ve asked myself a thousand times what would have happened if I would have just stayed instead of going back to St. Louis to pack up my stuff. Would I have found her? Would I have had my chance to apologize for my outburst? I guess life is full of what if’s. Some questions are just meant to remain unanswered. That doesn’t mean you don’t go bat shit crazy thinking about them though.

I get out of the car and walk to the door with my eyes trained on the ground. I’m hoping everyone is still in the living room so I can sneak up to my bedroom. I really want to go to bed now and forget about this horrible day, even if it is just for the night.