Page 54 of Steele

“You’re miserable at the cemetery. You punish yourself by visiting the grave. She’s not there.” She rolled toward me and wrapped her arms around me. “She’s here with you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I nodded as if I believed her. I didn’t. It was too soon. Brett was too temporary. And I’d become too distracted.

She noticed the half-empty sleeve of saltines and leaned up. “How long have you been in bed?”

I didn’t answer because she’d see through the lie, and she’d worry. I wasn’t spiraling again. I wasn’t depressed. Or I wasn’t so depressed that she needed to worry. After the accident, I’d gone pretty dark. Who wouldn’t?

“Jaymi,” she scolded. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

“Just this?” She picked up the crackers.

“I’m not hungry. Don’t get upset. I’m just tired.”

“I’m not doing this again.” She sprang from the bed. “You’re not doing this again. You’re not going to shut down because I’m not going to let you beat yourself up after you spent the night in a hot biker’s bed.”

I shoved the blanket down and realized I was still in the same clothes I’d worn to the mediation on Friday. Maybe I’d spiraled a little but with good reason. “I’m not beating myself up because I slept with Brett. I’m beating myself up because while I was with him I forgot about Matti!” I climbed off the bed. “What kind of mother forgets she’s supposed to be grieving? A good mother wouldn’t be out drinking whiskey and acting like a whore.”

“Oh, come on, Jaymi. Sleeping with one man doesn’t make you a whore. Sleeping with the Eminence University football team didn’t make me one.”

I froze, and she snorted.

“Just saying,” she said with a smirk.

She was right, but I had meant acting like a Heller whore. I wanted to be like them. To dance and laugh. And I wanted to be Brett’s old lady. I didn’t want him to think of Clover. I wanted him to want me to the point that I forgot who I was supposed to be.

Tears slipped onto my cheeks, and I slumped onto the end of the bed. “I feel so guilty.”

Holly sat next to me. “I’ll give you one day. You get to be miserable today. Even though I don’t think you have any reason to feel guilty, tomorrow, you forgive yourself.”

I forced a smile.

She stood. “Even miserable, you have to eat. I’ll make you something while you grab a shower.” She headed toward the door. “Tuna melt and tomato soup or mac and cheese with bacon.”

“Um—”

“I’m not you in the kitchen. You get something that comes out of a can or a box.”

“Then I’ll have mac and cheese. I think there is a box in the pantry from the last time you made me dinner. It might be expired.”

“Those dates are just guidelines. Trust me. Half the shit in my fridge is expired.”

I went into the master bathroom and stripped out of my clothes while the water warmed. In the shower, the hot spray chased the chill from my bones. But once again my mind drifted to Brett. As good as it felt to be with him, we were bad for each other.

He had a restraining order, and I had enough guilt to make the night I’d had with him feel like treason to my memory of Matti. I knew it was fucked up, but I wasn’t ready to move on. I never wanted to be ready to move on because that meant leaving her behind.

After the shower, I changed into shorts and a hoodie. I had to admit, not all of Holly’s advice was sus. I did feel better. I straightened the comforter, turned off the light, and climbed back beneath the covers. Better, but not good enough to get out of bed.

Ten minutes later, Holly came into the room and flipped the light back on. I could see this was going to be a fight.

“It’s ready, and I’m not letting you eat in bed. You need to move around, get some sunlight, and join the living.”

“You gave me one day.” I pulled the blanket over my eyes.

“God, you’re an immature brat.”

I slapped the blanket down. “I’m entitled. This is my drama. You can’t fix it. You can’t bitch until I cave.”