Through it all, Dena was right in the thick of things. She handled the business associates and the few friends of his father graciously. Jeff supposed being a senator’s daughter had groomed her for such a role. Even still, every once in a while, he’d look and find her t
hanking someone for coming by or shaking the hand of a former client of his father’s and she would stun him with her poise and gentility.
She looked so out of place: a queen in the midst of the lowly home of his childhood. He wondered what she would say if he shared his observation with her. Likely as not, she’d laugh and say he was crazy. Then she’d narrow her eyes and playfully tell him she had no desire to be queen.
After the funeral, they drove back to the house. Finally, for what felt like the first time in days, they were alone together.
Dena shrugged out of her coat. “Ugh. I forgot how exhausting funerals were.”
It felt oddly quiet in the house. The hospital bed had been removed from the living room, and the noisy hum of equipment no longer filled the silence. Gone, too, was the flow of visitors.
Dena hung up their coats, closed the closet door, and raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, just thinking about how silent the house is.” He sighed and looked around the room. “Guess I’ll start boxing up things pretty soon.”
“You’re going to sell it that fast?”
“I don’t see why not. There’s no reason to put it off. Most of the furniture and stuff I’ll give to Goodwill.” He walked toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Sure.” She ran a finger over the top edge of the well-worn couch. “Is there anything you’re going to keep?”
“There’s nothing here for me. Nothing I want.” He took two glasses down. “The sooner I get this place settled, the sooner I can get back home.”
“I can help pack things up,” she said, following him into the kitchen.
“You’ve already done so much. You don’t have to help me pack.” He crossed the room to where she stood and cupped her cheek. “I haven’t said it enough, but thank you for all your help. You’ve done so much the last few days. I truly appreciate it.”
Her eyes grew soft. “You don’t have to thank me. You’d do the same for me.”
“Regardless, thank you.”
He almost dropped his head to kiss her, but stopped himself at the last minute. It didn’t feel right to kiss her in his father’s kitchen, not many hours past his burial.
“You’re welcome,” she whispered.
He stroked her cheek and stepped away to get the iced tea from the refrigerator. “A bit sad most of the people who came today were old business associates and not friends, don’t you think?”
“Maybe a lot of people had to work and couldn’t get off.”
He snorted. “I don’t think so. The business was his wife, child, mistress, and best friend all wrapped in one.”
“Then yes, that’s sad.”
“I can’t remember how it was when Mom died. I was too young, I guess.”
They carried their drinks into the living room and sat down on the couch. The couch was so small, their knees touched, and he knew if he sat back, he’d brush her shoulder as well.
“How old were you when she died?” Dena asked.
“Six,” he said. “And I hated her for leaving us. Hated that she loved her booze more than she loved me.”
She took a sip of coffee. “How did your dad react to her death?”
“I think in some ways it was a relief to him. He had one less person to look after.” He set the glass on the table, suddenly not in the mood for it anymore. “That’s all I ever was to him, something to look after.”
Dena was silent. She’d never talked about her childhood much either, but he had a feeling the senator hadn’t won any Parent of the Year awards.
“I found her,” he said, admitting something he’d never shared with anyone. “It was horrible. I was six, but that was the day my childhood ended.”
“Oh, Jeff,” she said, and there were tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“I came home from school and wanted a snack. I knew she kept the cookies hidden on the top shelf of the pantry. I figured she wouldn’t notice if I took one or two.” He stopped. Remembering back, being in the house, it was almost like reliving it. His sigh was shaky. “I went looking for cookies and found Mom sleeping on the floor. I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t wake up.”
Dena put a hand on his knee. “Oh, Jeff.”
“Something like that happens these days, you put the kid in therapy,” he said, not surprised to hear the bitterness in his voice. “You think I got sent to therapy? I got sent to my bedroom and was told to stay there. I think it took my dad two days to remember I was in the house.”
“I … I had no idea.”
“Can you see now why I was in such a hurry to leave this godforsaken place and never come back?”
Silent tears ran down her face as she nodded.
“Soon as I turned sixteen, I was out. I wasn’t sure where I was headed, but I thought anywhere was better than here. Hitchhiked my way to New York, where I joined up with a group of petty thieves. We lived hard. Probably would have died on the streets if it hadn’t been for Grandma.”
She sniffled. “Your grandmother followed you to New York?”
“Not my biological grandmother. Grandma was an older lady who lived in a small apartment I broke into. She caught me.”
“What happened?”
“She cooked me dinner,” he said with a smile.
“She what?”
“She told me she’d cook me dinner and all I had to do was listen to her.” He shrugged. “I figured a hot home-cooked meal in exchange for listening to an old lady gabber? Easy as pie.”
She’d told him he looked like her son, all dark and dangerous and ready to pick a fight with anyone who looked at him wrong. Over dinner she said he could be a thug and fight for the wrong reasons, like her son, and die too young, like her son had. Or he could be a man and fight for the right ones.
“You picked the right ones?” Dena asked.
Jeff grinned. “Actually, I looked at her and said, ‘Hell, Grandma, I’ll fight whoever you damn well want me to if you’ll cook me dinner again.’”
Dena laughed.
“So she became ‘Grandma.’ I lived with her until she died of a massive heart attack. She’s the one who encouraged me to get my GED and join the NYPD. And she was the only person who came to my graduation from the police academy. After she died, I moved to Delaware. Worked on the force there for a few years and then quit to open the business. I was able to afford it because she left everything to me. Best damn woman I ever knew.” He smiled at her. “Over sixty, that is.”
“She saved you.”
“She did.”
“Why Delaware?”
“Why not? I figured with all the big businesses in Wilmington, there’d be need for my services.”
She looked at him quizzically for a long time. “Why did I not know this about you before?”
“I don’t like talking about it.”
“We lived together for how many years?”
“Are we going to fight about this? Is that what you want?”
Her arms were crossed and her iced tea sat beside his, neglected. She looked pissed.
“No,” she said. “I don’t want to fight. I’m just angry you have this whole past I knew nothing about until today.”
“You’ve never been exactly forthcoming about life with Daddy Dearest.”
“What’s there to tell? I was raised by nannies and dragged out on important occasions to smile and look pretty.” She shot him an evil glare. “But my dad never sent me to my room and forgot about me for two days.”
“No, your dad just threatens to shoot people if he doesn’t get his way.”