Page 90 of The Guy Who Became My Grumpy Boss

“Marissa really accused you of causing her issues?”

“Many of them.”

“I bet that didn’t make you feel good,” she said.

“It did not.”

Aunt Mei asked an unexpected question. “How much do you remember about your mother’s funeral?”

I sat up straighter. “How is that connected?”

“How much do you remember?” she asked again.

This was a topic I rarely brought to the surface of my mind. I’d been ten years old and had already lost my dad. I’d been devastated and had had no idea how to deal with the emotions.

“I remember the venue and my mom laying in the coffin. They used enough cosmetics and fillers that mom looked pretty, and I thought that was odd, because two days before she’d been gaunt to the point of being skeletal.”

Aunt Mei didn’t say anything, so I went on.

I studied the white rose in my hand. “There were three big bouquets, all of them filled with white roses.” I swallowed. “I got through the funeral service, mostly because you talked toeveryone for me, but as soon as the brunch started, I couldn’t handle it.”

That was the first time I’d felt shame on an order of magnitude that I thought would rip me apart. “People at my table kept asking me how I was doing. Some told me what I should do to cope. One woman handed me the card for a counselor.”

“What?” Aunt Mei blurted out. “Sorry. Go on.”

A faint smile tugged my lips at her outrage. “I didn’t know what to say or how to act. Because dad had died when I was so young, I’d never been through it before. A small crowd kept surrounding me, even as I was sitting at a table. I ended up being rude to a few people, and they told me I should act better. I became overwhelmed and ran and hid in a closet.”

“Where I found you.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me.

“Peter, you’ve always had a hard time in social situations. You’re no good at reading people, and that’s okay.”

Her words may have sounded harsh, but they warmed me.

“Marissa never quite got that about you. She probably thought she could fix you, but there’s nothing broken. Being different doesn’t mean you’re broken. You know that, right?”

Another nod.

Aunt Mei grunted. “Tell me what you’ve decided about Marissa and her accusations.”

I took a breath. “I accept that I may have been a catalyst for what she’s been through, but she took most of what she’s been carrying on herself. I never asked her or even insinuated that she should do any of it.”

“That’s right,” Aunt Mei said. “And that can be the end of it if you want it to be.”

Hearing her agreement flooded me with relief.

“You can decide to reconcile with Marissa, or not.” Aunt Meipaused. “The bigger question is, what are you going to do about Jessica?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You like her. But…” she trailed off.

She knew what I’d been thinking, so I said it out loud. “But I’m afraid she’s bending over backward to accommodate me, and I don’t want that.” I put a pink rose next to the white one.

“There’s a simple way to tackle this, you know.”

“Is there?”

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