Page 219 of Remy

Salvatore, for starters. Expect the unexpected, Pyro.

6:38 p.m. me

??

6:38 p.m. me

So was it you or him?

6:38 p.m. Me

Remy??? Do I have a house full of roses sent from your unhinged brother?

6:38 p.m. Me

You’re fucking with me, right?

6:38 p.m. Me

REMY???

6:39 p.m. Remy

Yes, I’m fucking with you. I’m glad they only almost made you cry.

6:40 p.m. Me

When will I get to see you again?

6:42 p.m. Remy

Your dad said you’re having dinner with him Friday night. I’ll see you then.

6:43 p.m. Me

Well, you best be prepared for your own spanking because that whole Salvatore-stalker joke wasn’t funny.

Friday night rolls around faster than I could’ve anticipated, given my excitement.

It also helps that managing the funeral home—with Ivy’s assistance—has meant every waking moment is spent with new and inspiring distractions.

But now I sit in my father’s living room, the television softly playing an old season of Below Deck while I nervously gnaw on my bottom lip in anticipation.

“Have I told you how much I loved last weekend?” Dad lays back in his outstretched recliner, his eyes closed, his smile bright.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Maybe once or twice.”

Fifty-five thousand times would be more accurate, but I can't get enough of his joy.

Despite his packed social calendar, and the extra hours he’s needed for rest, we’ve made time to share at least one meal every day this week.

Today’s was an early dinner of Caesar salad with grilled chicken that Lucy organized. She even insisted on cleaning up to give Dad and I more alone time, while she remains in the kitchen stacking plates into the dishwasher, the music from her online playlist giving us an added sense of privacy.

“If you’re up for it, we could go away again,” I hedge. “I have the savings to splurge on a mini vacation. Not to the extent of formal attire and private chefs, but enough for something nice and simple. We could get a beach house and relax by the ocean.”

Any other day this week I wouldn’t have suggested it, but today he’s been better. Full of energy and taunting wisecracks. I’ve also been trying to focus more on the positives instead of the increased jaundice of his skin, and how he now rattles when he walks due to the bottle of pain meds that permanently live in his pocket.

“I’d love that,” he murmurs. “We could watch the sunset over the water. Maybe read a good book or two.”

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