Page 6 of Forbidden Romeo

A choked, quiet sob escapes me in place of the starting note.

I clear my throat and toss a look at the pianist, murmuring a quiet, “Sorry,” to her.

She nods and plays the chord again. This time, I manage to get the first few lines out, though I don’t think it sounds pretty by any stretch of the means.

I lift my gaze and sweep it over the parishioners in church, my gaze landing on Mom, sitting in the front row. Beside her, Mallory, Mallory’s husband and their kids. And at the end of the pew, there’s an empty spot meant for me.

In the pew behind where my empty seat is, Holden gives me a soft, but encouraging nod.

More emotion than I know how to handle simmers inside of me and the space between my forehead burns like someone has placed a branding iron between my brows.

Once again, the notes won’t come. They strangle in my throat and a shuddering sob wracks my shoulders.

From the pews, I hear a familiar baritone voice, Holden’s, start singing.

Blinking through my tears, another voice joins him from somewhere in the middle of the church. Jill’s.

I knew she was here today, but I hadn’t found her in the crowd yet, but there on the edge of a middle pew, I see the fiery corkscrew curls of her hair bounce. Beside her, Nolan starts singing. And her parents.

I expected to feel so alone here at Dad’s funeral. As much as I love my mom and sister, this isn’t my home anymore. It’s like walking into a time machine.

But I’m not alone.

Yes, Mom and Mallory are my family. But so is Jill. And Todd and Meredith. And Nolan.

And Holden.

This time, when I sing, my voice comes out confident. And despite the tears streaming down my face, I’m able to finish. Not perfectly.

But today isn’t about perfection. It’s about honoring Dad.

And I hate that it took me this long to learn that my voice… my talent… was an honor to him.

Despite everything, he was proud of me. So proud that he wanted my voice to be his send off to Heaven.

The rest of the service is uneventful.

We stand in the receiving line.

We hug and kiss a bunch of people.

We host a celebration of life at the pub.

And by nine p.m., the only people left in the bar are me, Mom, Mallory, and Holden, wiping down the tables, lifting chairs up, and filling the dishwasher.

The air around us is sharp and pungent, the scent of day old bread mixed with Clorox leaves a lingering aroma that I can’t help but associate with Dad.

Mallory gives me a pointed look as I stack chairs on top of the tables. "So, I guess we won't be seeing much of you anymore, huh?"

I pause, a chair dangling from my hand. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on," she says sharply. "You barely came to visit when you weren’t working. Now? We’re never going to see you. My kids don’t even know who Aunt Kate is. I have to show them pictures of you from my wedding to remind them.”

I set the chair down. "That's not fair. I might not have been working as an actress, but I was working all the time before I got this part. If anything, my new job means I might have more time between shows to visit. I’ll definitely have more money.”

Mom shoots Mallory a warning look as she empties the last tub of dirty dishes into the washer. "That's enough now."

But Mallory barrels on with a snort. “Sure. Because of your new sugar daddy, right?” She gestures vaguely in Holden's direction. "Now that you have him back? Even as a nepo baby banging the director, you couldn’t get here to visit Dad when he was diagnosed. You made a dying man fly halfway across the country to come see you.”

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