Reverend Mabel doesn’t offer us mud to throw into the ground because I asked her not to. Throwing mud at a dead person has never quite seemed right to me. Instead, I drop a rose, and it thuds on top of my mum.
Spencer and his parents go next. He never lets me go.
I’m acutely aware of his gaze on the side of my head, analysing my mental state.
I don’t know what he wants from me, but whatever it is, I don’t think I’m giving it to him.
I’m not behaving like someone who is burying their parent. Especially not someone who is burying their mum a few months after their dad. I feel like I’ve cried enough to last me the rest of my life. Now I just have to accept that they’re gone and move forward with my life.
We weren’t a normal family.
The relief is bittersweet. It doesn’t feel good or bad. It’s something I can’t place and that drives me insane. It’s a nervous buzzing in my stomach I can’t get rid of. I don’t know exactly how I feel. How is that even possible? I don’t have to clean puke out of a carpet or dodge awkward questions. Now I can just say that my parents are dead.
What a horrible situation to be glad for.
“Do you want a minute, Indie?” Spencer asks.
The service is over, my mum is buried, and Reverend Mabel has gone back into the church.
“No, I don’t need any more time. I’m ready to go,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Are you sure?”
There’s nothing left to do here now. I’ll come back soon and lay fresh flowers for them both, but for now, I need to leave and be around the people who love me.
“I am.”
“Okay,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I close my eyes as he spreads warmth through my icy body.
As much as I need him, things would be so much easier if I wasn’t in love with him.
“Let’s get you back and get a coffee,” Jodie says, patting my back.
I look over my shoulder, wishing my mum was like her. They could have been friends.
“Thanks,” I reply.
We walk back to the cars in the freezing weather. Mila links arms with me on my free side. “She said coffee, but she meant gin, right?”
That startles a laugh out of me. If anyone could make me laugh right now, it’s Mila and her lack of filter.
I arch an eyebrow. “I’m sure she meant gin. I’m having gin.”
“Good, just checking. You doing okay?”
“I am,” I tell her. It’s not even a huge lie.
Spencer opens the door to his stupid big car that his dad drove here this morning. I get into the passenger seat as his parents take the back for the return journey. I’m unsure why the change but at least it’s more grown up to be in the front. I crank the heat up.
Mila and Wren wave as they get into Brody’s car. Sheila is coming back to Jodi and Andrew’s, too. They’ve made a lot of food; way more than necessary. She’ll pack up leftovers for everyone. That will make Brody happy.
“That was a lovely service,” Jodie says.
I turn and smile at her in the back. She’s gripping the handle as if she expects Spencer to channel his inner Lewis Hamilton. “It was. She would have liked Sheila coming.”
“Yes, that was nice of her.”
Spencer pulls into the drive ten minutes later, and we all go inside. I heard him talking to someone on the phone about leaking the wrong information, pretending the funeral was at a different time and location in case the media followed us.
Who crashes a funeral? They must have something wrong with them if they think it’s okay to invade someone’s privacy like that.
I don’t know if he can make a deal with them: they get pictures and stories in exchange for a bit of privacy. I’m sure lots of famous people do that.
Isn’t that what Kate and Wills do? Or perhaps they get special treatment because they’re royal? Unlikely, though; the media are vultures.
God, I never thought I’d have to deal with something like this with my whole life scrutinised by anyone with a smartphone. And it’s going to happen for the rest of my life.
“Jodie, how many people did you cater for?” I ask, looking at her rammed kitchen table.
She smiles, her guilty eyes shining. “I got carried away. I wanted to make some of your favourites, but I think I ended up making all of them.”
My shoulders slump, and I walk into her open arms. She holds me tightly.
“Thank you,” I mutter and pull back. “For everything.”
“You’re more than welcome. How are you feeling? Silly question... and one I ask too often.”
I shake my head. “You don’t. It’s weird and it sucks but I’m not surprised this happened. They were gone long before they died.”
She sighs like her heart is breaking. “I’m so sorry. You have a lot of people who love you very much and will be there for you. Always remember that.”
“I do. I’m so grateful for you.”
Family isn’t always blood. The people in this room—minus Sheila—I can count on. They are the ones who matter to me.
“Is anyone going to dig in?” Brody asks.
We look across to see Wren whacking him with the back of her hand.
Scowling, he glares at her. “What was that?”
“This is a wake! Your stomach can hold off for a little longer.”
Laughing, I step towards them. “Guys, it’s fine. Brody, go for it. There’s so much food, you may as well get a head start.”
He smirks at her before turning to me. “Thank you, Indie.”
Wren folds her arms. “This is why I don’t take him out more places.”
“Hey, I need him today. Jodie has catered for about fifty people, not eight.”
“Are we opening the gin or what?” Mila asks,
