“Today we bury one of this generation’s best musicians, a rock legend, and a beloved father.”
The dark tint of my sunglasses hides my eyes as I struggle to not roll them at the formalities of today. I made it through the services yesterday, an ostentatious public event full of overinflated tales of the late Richie Sands. Maybe they even held some truth, but I wasn’t able to discern it through his shortcomings as a father. It was much easier for him to go through life a wild partier and wealthy rock star than an attentive and present dad.
I was here for my mother, though. She had been a wreck ever since his loss. She was and forever would be under the impression he loved only her. Insisted she was his one true love, despite the glaring reality he’d slept with countless other women.
Today’s burial is private. As difficult as it is to stand next to my mother and a few close friends and pretend I’m sad, the man who holds my hand makes all of this bearable. He never lets me go, not once, and his strength, protectiveness, and understanding without judgment ensure me I’m not the worst daughter on earth.
I’m dealing with the guilt for not feeling more. For not behaving in a way expected of a girl who just lost her father.
My dad’s remains are interred into the ground, and I have to wrap my arm around my mom’s shoulders to keep her standing. Sobs shake her body, and her wails draw everyone’s stare. I hate that too, but I’m working on it. On acceptance and empathy. I may not understand how she could love someone who treated her so poorly, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel sorry for her. She’s always been this way. Bold, loud, and an oversharer. She has no inhibitions when it comes to sharing her grief with the world.
We stand there, the three of us, united until each of Dad’s close friends and business contacts offer their farewells and condolences—Trent at my side, and me at my mother’s. Once everyone is gone, my mom insists on staying until the workers return the dirt back to the Earth and cover the coffin. She’s completely drained, all her tears dried when they finally finish, and Trent takes her arm to help her into the waiting Town Car.
“Do you want me to ride with you?” I say.
“You’re leaving today?” she asks. I nod. “No, sweetheart. Doesn’t make sense when you’re heading to the airport. I have to get used to being alone, anyway.” Her lips tremble as they attempt a smile, and she holds her black clutch to her chest.
“Call me, though? I’ll visit when we get a break between shows.” I wrap my arms around her for a hug, and kiss her cheek before stepping back.
“Lexi. I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than you think. I’ve been doing this for years.” Her confidence surprises me after her nonstop crying today, but I guess she’s right. I underestimate her.
“Bye, Mrs. Mallory.” Trent hugs her next.
“Call me, Lori, remember. Take care of my girl on the road.” She pats his back before he steps out of her embrace.
“You have my word, Lori.”
Mom slides into the car and the driver shuts her door. We wave once more and turn away as the engine starts. The sound of the car window sliding open stops me, pulling my attention. Before Trent turns back to the car, Mom points at him and mouths the words, “Keep him.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head with a smile, actually grateful for her ridiculous infatuation with all front men with guitars. This is her normal Mom behavior. She’ll be okay withouthim.
“Lexi, one more thing.” My mom purses her lips together, and her stare darts between me and Trent, and finally rests on me. “There’s money.”
“I don’t want it.” The words fly from my mouth.
Her brows pull into a scowl. “Honey, it’s not up to you.”
“Mom, I don’t want it. Keep it. Give it away. I don’t care.” Because I don’t need it and I sure as hell don’t want anything else from him.
She pulls her lips into a tight line and I can tell she’s not gonna let this go. “Lexi, it’s not that easy. There’s a will. Lawyers.”
“Then I’ll deal with it later.”
She raises her brow and tilts her head. “Don’t you want to know how much?”
“No. I don’t.” I blow out a breath and strain for a smile, though I’m not quite sure it reaches my face. “I love you, Mom. Good-bye.”
Her eyes cloud with disappointment. Even in death she wants me to give him more than he ever deserved. “Bye, Lexi.”
I grip Trent’s hand and he weaves my fingers through his much larger ones. I relax into the strength he provides and exhale the anxiety I didn’t realize I was holding onto as the Town Car retreats.
Trent’s lips find the top of my head and he rests them there for a long moment. The cemetery is peaceful, beautiful in an unconventional way. A few people mill about, stopping at headstones or lost in reflection on one of the wooden benches. The solitude here is as warm as the sun beating through the clouds, and when Trent squeezes my hand I’m settled with the feeling that everything will be okay.
“You ready?” He tips his chin to where the car is parked.
“Yeah. What time does our flight leave?” I study the tips of my shoes as they traverse the gravel path.
“Not for another six hours.”
