Page 66 of Quiet Confessions: Part Two

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The funeral is a quiet, dreary affair. It decided to pour this morning, which just serves to remind me what a miserable bastard Richard James was. Everyone attending are people that he worked with, scared shitless, or are family hoping to be named in the will.

The only person who cried during the service is Pay’s mom, Stephanie. She sniffled into her handkerchief multiple times next to Ki’s father, who stoically looked straight ahead and patted her hand from time to time.

Funerals are a great way to people watch and view the human condition. There were older women in black veils with rosaries in their hands who mumbled prayers during the service, while mischievous little grandchildren wiggled uncomfortably in their suits.

As I run my finger under my collar, I totally commiserate with them. Catching one of their eyes, I wink at them. The little boy grins at me before remembering where he is.

Not wanting to be a bad influence, I look away. Patience has dry eyes as she listens to the service, but her hand is held tightly between Cal and Rooke. Kian looks a little lost as he watches his father instead of the priest.

Tae’s spine is ramrod straight and he appears to be very proud. How he followed orders dictated to him by Richard James for years is beyond me.

It’s already been the longest day ever, and it’s barely eleven in the morning as we walk out of the church.

“We have to follow the hearse to the cemetery,” Pay says softly. Pallbearers brought Richard’s body into the church, and even then, Tae was faithfully at the old man’s side.

“Even now, the old man is making everyone dance for him,” Kian grumbles. His relationship with the man was tumultuous, and no one is happier to see his demise.

“We’re almost done, guys. Let’s go,” I murmur. I personally hate funerals. Burn my body, have a party, remember me fondly. That’s all I want.

Black umbrellas open over our heads as we hurry to the car. We all came together because we knew today would be hard. This is the home stretch.

The drive to the cemetery is slow, and Pay yawns, laying her head on my shoulder. Her phone vibrates in her purse, and she pulls it out warily. There are few people who would want to speak to her knowing there’s a funeral.

I don’t think anyone doesn’t know that the great Richard James is deceased. The entire thing has been televised, and I saw media trucks outside of the church as we left. It’s a fucking circus.

“The ground is going to be muddy,” Ki frets as he parks the car. “Please be careful in your heels, Patience.”

She nods absently, but the last thing she needs is to fall into the mud in front of everyone. Patience looks beautiful in a black pencil skirt suit. She’s wearing sky-high heels, and I wonder if it would be terrible if I picked her up to walk her across the grass.

“You’re going to sink, rabbit,” I sigh.

“I’ll carry her,” Rooke says with a shrug. “Wanna take a ride, baby girl?”

Patience’s eyes light up, and I relax slightly. Rooke reminds her how to have fun and worships the ground she walks on.

“Let me do it,” Cal murmurs as we get out of the car. “There’s so many eyes here, and I’m her public fiancé. I don’t care about the title personally, but I don’t want to make this about us today.”

“You’re right,” I agree just as Rooke nods.

We all huddle together under the umbrellas around Cal and Pay as he carries her carefully across the grass.

Placing her on the ground in front of the gravesite, he holds Patience around the waist. It looks as if he is being supportive, when really he’s holding her weight off the back of her shoes.

“Best public fiancé ever,” she says so lowly only we can hear. Even Ki’s lips twitch, and I know we’ll survive this.

Pay’s mother is the most obnoxious person here. Honestly, how many tears does this woman have? She cries loudly while everyone else dabs at their eyes, whether there are actual tears or not. All too soon, the funeral is over, and people come over to give their condolences as they leave.

“It’s time to go to the lawyer’s office for the reading of the will,” Stephanie says as she stands in front of us. The rain has petered out thankfully, but it’s left the air feeling heavy, like there are ghosts huddled over us.

I am in a morbid state of mind, clearly.

“We’ll follow you there, Mom,” Patience reassures her.

“Why don’t you drive with us?” Tae suggests, his arm holding his wife’s waist to ensure that she doesn’t sink into the soggy ground. There’s a certain sharpness in his eyes as he watches his son surreptitiously. I know they are on rocky ground right now, but I think that’s part of growing up and breaking out on your own.

Tae Park is just having a hard time with this.

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