Finding Our Reality (The Reality Duet #2)

Chapter 1

ELLA

Holt wraps his arm around my shoulder, tucking me against his side. I don’t really need the assistance; he’s just trying to save me from the crowd of people who want to gather in my face, expressing their condolences—some be it authentic and some be it fake. Uncle Ray and Aunt Teresa take the brunt, allowing me an escape. We walk across the grounds, weaving around the headstones. My heels keep sinking into the wet dirt.

Figures I would have to bury my parents on a rainy day. They’ve never made anything easy for me.

When Marcum and Nancy come up to us, Holt untangles my body from his, quickly shaking hands with Marcum, as Nancy pecks my cheek and gives my hand a loving squeeze.

“Come on, Nancy, let’s give them some time to talk,” Holt says, holding out his elbow. Nancy tucks her arm into his and they head off, bending their heads against the mist falling from the sky.

Marcum pulls me into a hug, kissing my temple. “Been a long time since you’ve been back home.”

“Yeah, things have been really good with the business. Busy.”

He nods at the crowd. “Looks like half the city came out for the funeral.”

“I know.” I shrug, snorting in malcontent. “Social event of the season, I guess.”

Marcum doesn’t approve of my sarcasm. “Ella,” he scolds.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a terrible thing to say.”

“Did you ever hear any more from the NTSB?”

“Definitely pilot error. Dad only got his pilot’s license two years ago. Bad weather came in. He should’ve turned around, re-routed. But he didn’t. They gave me more details, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? It doesn’t bring them back.”

He simply nods and doesn’t coddle me. He doesn’t spout made-up jargon about how nice and well-loved my parents were and how much they will be missed. Or how much they would’ve loved to see me grow and flourish in my adulthood. Marcum is one of the few people who really understands the troubled dynamic of the relationship I had with my parents. The struggles, the battles. The reason we only saw each other a handful of times since I left home at the beginning of August after my senior year of high school.

“How long will you be able to stay? It’d be nice to have more than just a day or two with you this time.”

I sigh, rolling my shoulders. My low back is throbbing. Standing at attention like a perfect little statue—a perfect little daughter—definitely has its downsides. “It looks like you’ll get your wish. It’ll take several weeks, if not months, for me to get their affairs in order and close out the estate. I have to deal with Mom’s original trust. Dad’s business. His share of the medical building. I’ve already told all my clients that I’ll be working from here for the immediate future. So much of what I do can be done remotely, via the laptop, so that’s good. And I’m still close enough to my coverage territory to make all the upcoming trips that I need to.”

He winks at me. “Well, I’m glad. You’ve been running from your home and your hometown for so long that you might be surprised to find you actually like it here now. And you know you can always stay with us if you don’t wanna stay in that big house by yourself.”

I can’t help but smile, despite the circumstances. I really got lucky with him. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’m gonna stay in the Children’s Wing, in my old room.” I look around, spy Holt and Nancy talking to Ridge and Cullen, and nod in their direction. “Holt’s done with physical therapy. He’s heading back to North Carolina to clean out his condo and put it on the market. When he gets back, he’s gonna move in with me for a while. I told him he could stay in Carrie’s room.”

“But you don’t let anyone go into Carrie’s room.”

“I know. But why?” I shake my head. “At this point it’s become nothing more than a shrine. It’s time… time to let go. Lord knows I’ve gotten really good at letting go over the years.”

He nods, looking up, studying the gray clouds. “We should go before it starts to pour again.”

I look around the cemetery, gaining my bearings. I point to the right. “Just a minute. I need to make a quick stop first.”

He doesn’t ask who. He already knows because he delivered flowers for me. Nine years ago.

Fortunately, only three people stop to talk to me on my way to the headstone. One of them being Kristie. We’ve not really kept in touch over the years, just a sporadic conversation here and there. She was angry for a really long time when I left town. She was probably angrier that I had the locks to the door changed before I left on my graduation charity trip so she couldn’t bust into my house any time she wanted.

And let’s just call a spade a spade…she’s not exactly the picture-perfect image of aging gracefully. She’s thin. Her auburn hair is fried from using curlers and straighteners every day. She looks worn and haggard. But living with and working for her dad—even now, after all these years—can’t be easy. And of course, she’s still single. I don’t guess she’s dating anyone, but I’m not really one to call the kettle black in regard to that.

She asks to come over, asks to spend the night with me like she used to when we were young. I tell her no. Politely. But quickly. I’m definitely not starting that trend all over again. I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t need a sucker fish hanging out in my fish tank, sucking the life from everything around it. Especially not when Holt is there. He’s got enough women hitting on him as it is. My house should be a safe zone for him. And from what Raylee said, Kristie may be single, and she may not be dating anyone exclusively, but that’s only because she sleeps with any man with an easily accessible zipper. Raylee’s husband, Will, owns a bar downtown. He’s seen Kristie leave with different men, on more than one occasion. More like, fifty or sixty or seventy occasions.

I guess overprotective Phillip can’t be cramping her style that bad. It sounds like the no-fly zone finally lifted over the zip code of her crotch and she’s taking commercial liners by the dozen.

I read the headstone and run my fingers across the smooth, gray granite. “Hey, Harlan.”

A cold burst of wind blows my jacket open and I quickly wrap it around myself, securing the buttons. “You may know this somehow, but I buried my parents today. Plane crash.” The wind makes my nose run. “I miss you. I miss talking to you.”

I sigh, rubbing my hands together for warmth. True to Alabama weather, the temperature is supposed to be back in the sixties tomorrow.

“Does he miss you? Does he talk to you? Maybe he visits you?” I bite my lip, thinking back to a happier time. To life at the garage. The three of us, sitting around, talking. “I hope wherever he is that he hasn’t forgotten about you. Like he’s forgotten about me.”

All of a sudden, waves of nausea fire in my stomach. An eerie feeling makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I look from side to side, studying the people as they leave my parents’ gravesite. I’m taken aback when I see a shadow lingering underneath a tree in the distance. My heart hammers in my chest, making me lightheaded.

Someone is watching me.

I take a step forward, but my heel catches in a thicket of wet grass, making me stumble. By the time I look up again, the shadow is gone. And dragging with it my unwanted anxiety.

Creep.

Kissing my fingertips, I touch Harlan’s engraved name and walk over to join everyone else. Stepping from the grass, into the parking lot, all of a sudden, I realize that I’m an orphan.

No parents. No sibling. No husband. No children.

And that all fucking sucks.