Page 36 of The Grump I Married
I nodded, checking my watch. “I’ll fill you in on the details later,” I whispered as the three of us made our way to the front of the chapel. Lena slipped in beside me, once again taking my hand. A spark of warmth spread up my arm. Even if it was just for show, I was still grateful for it as the narrow stained-glass windows spilled soft, colorful light across our legs, the simple stone altar, and Grandad’s casket.
The service itself was intimate and solemn. The minister led with a scripture reading, a short eulogy, and then the choir performed an enchanting hymn. Before the service ended, the minister extended his hand, inviting me up to say a couple words.
Lena squeezed my hand in support, then released me. I made my way up the stone steps, standing next to an enlarged photo of Grandad. Pressure swirled behind my eyes suddenly, and as I turned to the crowd, I wasn’t sure anything would come out when I opened my mouth. Then I caught Lena’s eye, a harbor in an uncertain storm, and focused on her face in the crowd.
“Anyone who knew my grandfather knew that he never asked for much, but he gave everything,” I began.
Heads nodded along with my words.
“He was a quiet man,” I continued. “Steady and loyal, and he led with action, not words. The thing I’ll remember most about him was his love for this land and the people on it. He instilled in me that success meant nothing if you forgot where you came from, and that no man was bigger than the community that raised him.”
I took a breath as my jaw trembled, trying to keep from giving in to the tears that swirled through me. I cleared my throat when I was ready. “I only hope that I can live up to the example he set. I want to make choices he’d be proud of, and most of all, I want to become the kind of man he already believed I was.” My gaze turned toward the casket. “We’ll miss you, Grandad. Rest easy.”
I found my seat again, blinking hard. Lena’s presence next to me was steady, and I leaned into that as the service concluded and we were whisked to the cemetery for a short graveside service. It was mostly family and close friends in attendance, and I tried not to dwell on the fact that my father, uncle, and cousin were among the crowd, looking put out more than anything. Once the service finished, we returned to Lochbrae for the funeral tea. As I loosened my tie, it felt like I could breathe for the first time since that morning.
Lena had hardly left my side since we’d returned, smiling politely and shaking hands with the never-ending line of people that swarmed toward me to offer their condolences. I couldn’t even explain how grateful I was for the buffer. As I watched her make small talk with the locals, I appreciated more than ever that I didn’t have to tell her how to play the part of a supportive wife. She always knew exactly what I needed.
“I better pop into the kitchen and see if Agnes needs any help with the sandwiches,” she whispered to me when we caught a break.
“I’m sure she’s wrangled people to help,” I said, reluctant to let her go, even for a minute.
Lena patted my arm. “Let me just check. I’d hate for her to be managing that all alone.”
I couldn’t help smiling as she darted into the crowd, micromanaging my life right down to the last crumb. My chest clenched, and I felt a shudder of dread at the thought of what it would be like when this was all over and she left for school. How the hell was I supposed to go a year without seeing her every day? But I tried not to dwell on that. Today was already filled with enough loss.
I moved to the bottom of the stairwell, taking a seat and loosening my tie a little more. I couldn’t wait for this day to be over. Locke appeared, carrying two mugs.
“Not sure I’m in the mood for tea,” I said as he handed me one.
“Figured. I added a little something I found in Pete’s cabinet.”
“Thank God,” I said, sipping the alcohol-spiked drink.
“Looks like the whole town wanted to pay their respects,” Locke said, leaning against the banister as he watched people move between the front hall, the dining room, and the parlor. “So your dad’s still a treat.” He caught my eye. “I bumped into him bitching and moaning in a corner with your Uncle Bryan and Jasper.”
I released a heavy sigh. “Yeah, shocking.” Bitching and moaning tended to be Dad’s default. He’d always been the sort to insist that everything was everyone else’s fault. He was allergic to personal responsibility and about as different from both of his parents as it was possible to be while still being biologically human.
How the hell natureornurture could explain him, I’d never managed to figure out. But it’s not like I had to put much thought or energy into it. Dad had made avoiding me into a personal hobby ever since Kincaid Energy’s board ousted himfrom his brief, disastrous tenure as CEO and passed the mantle on to me. He seemed to think he was punishing me by giving me the cold shoulder, and I was happy to let him continue to think that if it meant we didn’t have to talk.
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and all of them will avoid talking to me. Between him being pissed and Uncle Bryan being bitter that Grandad skipped over putting him in charge, I’m persona non grata as far as they’re concerned. And Jasper’s bound to be ticked off that I got the inheritance instead of him, even though everyone’s always known I was the one closest to Grandad.”
“Jasper alert!” Alistair whispered, walking up beside us. “He’s hanging around the kitchen, making a fuss about the sandwiches.”
Locke clicked his tongue in disgust. “What’s that whiny, spoiled bastard complaining about now?”
“Apparently the bread’s not soft enough.” Alistair shook his head. “I swear to God he’s a direct copy-paste of Bryan. It’s actually horrifying to think I could give Kenna any of my bad traits.”
“She probably won’t inherit your receding hairline,” Locke quipped. “I wouldn’t worry.”
Alistair jabbed him on the arm. “Take that back.” He swept his hands through his silky locks. “Aside from Kenna, my hair is the one good thing I have going for me right now.”
Locke and I exchanged worried looks. There was a heavy note in Alistair’s voice I’d never heard before. While he never could have been described as a ball of sunshine, I was still used to him having a certain sense of decisiveness to him, a sense of purposeand drive as if he was doing exactly what needed to be done. But now, he just seemed…lost. It worried the hell out of me.
But this wasn’t the time or place to unpack all of that. Locke seemed to agree, because he went right into “redirect and distract” mode. “Speaking of good things,” he said, plopping down on the step next to me. “Tell me how you got your assistant to marry you.”
“Temporarily,” I clarified. “And trust me, it was a hard-won battle.” I gave them a quick overview, promising to fill them in on the details later, when we were in the pub and away from this crowd.
“Who would have believed it?” Locke said. “Our little Weston. A married man.”
