Page 22 of Love Under Construction

The funeral servicefor Marvin Hawthorne, the man I always called Pops, is two short days later. I’m sitting in the Catholic church that Liv grew up in, listening to Father Bigham speak about all of the great things we loved about Pops while Olivia sobs in the pew in front of me.

I feel helpless, as I have most of this trip back home.

Since we stepped foot back in her house after our night together, she’s shut me out, effectively putting me right back in the frenemy zone. Yeah, it stings like a bitch, but I’m trying to be respectful of the fact that she likely has her reasons and she’s grieving right now.

Before the service began, I offered to sit with her, but she refused. Instead, she’s sitting next to her mother’s stoic form with Pop’s brother Devin on her mother’s right side, while I sit with my parents in the second row. Both her mom and uncle seem oblivious to Liv’s pain. I’ve kept my eyes on the three of them the whole time. Devin and Mrs. Hawthorne seem incredibly close, his comfort almost over the top. It didn’t go unnoticed that Devin’s wedding ring is missing too.

Something’s not right and judging by the looks my father keeps shooting my way; I think he senses it too.

As the service concludes, we all make our way to the front of the church to offer condolences to the family and say our final goodbyes to Pops. For the first time in days, Liv affords me a little more than a casual acknowledgment when she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. I do my best to appear unphased when she lets me go and asks me to stay with her until the very end.

With a firm nod, I agree and stay by her side.

The church empties and her mother pushes her forward, “Your turn,” Mrs. Hawthorne sniffles.

Liv casts a tiny glance over her shoulder, and I follow her, standing behind her but not making a single move to touch her. It’s too much for me to ignore when a sob escapes and her body begins to shake again. I reach out and wrap my arm around her shoulder, reminding her that I’m still here.

Minutes tick by, and the world feels frozen as she says goodbye to her father for the final time.

When she finally pulls back and starts to walk away, her legs give way, and before I think twice, I’ve scooped her up in my arms. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see her mom roll her eyes and hear her say something about Liv always having a flair for dramatics as I carry her to the closest pew and sit her down.

Like a beacon, my parents are by our side in seconds. My mom somehow produces a cold bottle of water for Liv to drink and hasmy,er, uh, Liv, wrapped in her arms, running her hand over her head and whispering to her.

Eventually, Mrs. Hawthorne and Devin walk over. Instead of comforting her daughter, Mrs. Hawthorne snaps that it’s time to leave. Mom promises me that she’s got Liv while Dad and I take our places to do our duty as pallbearers.

With Mr. Hawthorne’s body in the back of the hearse, we all head to our vehicles. Mom is waiting near the limo reserved for family, with Liv tucked to her side. When she sees me approach, Liv’s head pops up, “Any chance you can get me back to the house? I’ve decided not to go to the graveyard; I’ve had enough.”

Rubbing the back of my neck nervously, I look at my mom, and dad, who’s joined our little group now.

“You take our car, Son.” My dad hands me the keys. “We’ll find someone to ride with, and I think we’ll be able to manage without you both. Take care of her,” with that last sentence, my Dad pulls me to him and gives me a hug and pat on the back.

As we exit the church parking lot and breakaway from the procession a few minutes later, I reach out for Liv’s hand. She’s silent the entire drive back, but she never pulls away from our entwined fingers. I only wish that as we step through the door of her childhood home a short drive later that Liv could have the solace she wanted. Instead, we’re bombarded by the catering crew the moment we cross the threshold.

“Mrs. Hawthorne said you’d be here soon and could tell us what to do with all of this food. There have been deliveries from people, all day. On top of what we’ve already prepared at the Mrs. request.”

Not giving Liv a chance to speak up, I step forward with one hand on the small of Liv’s back. “I’m afraid you are misinformed. Olivia isn’t feeling well. I’m going to get Miss Hawthorne to her room and then I’ll join you in the kitchen and help sort this all out.”

Guiding Liv upstairs, I tuck her safely inside the barrier of her room and make sure she’s settled before I go. Her silence is deafening.

* * *

My dress jacketis long gone, and my sleeves are rolled up as visitors start piling in. The catering staff and I have been working together to determine what could go in the freezer for later and what should be served right away. We have long since run out of room in the two freezers, so everything else has joined the spread of food that has been catered for today.

Mrs. Hawthorn strolls in a few minutes after visitors have started to arrive with Devin on her heels and the minute she steps into the large kitchen, I can see her disgust.

“What is all of this? Where is Olivia? I told the staff she would sort it all. Is this her doing?” Liv’s mom hisses loudly.

“Actually, no Ma’am. Liv isn’t feeling well, so she’s retired to her room. I led the brigade here. Your freezers are fully stocked with food that your friends and family have all sent. When we ran out of room, I instructed the staff to go ahead and set things out, rather than letting them go to waste. If you have a problem with any of that, you can take it up with me.” I meant to be polite and calm, but there is no mistaking the bite in my tone.

I can tell by the look on her face that she’s contemplating her response to me. My parents step into the room and comment with how great everything looks and Mrs. Hawthorne’s expression softens as she plasters on a fake smile. “Well. Thank you so much for your help, Jameson. You always step up to the challenge.”

“You’re welcome, Ma’am.” I offer as kindly as I can. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling a little parched.” Without a backward glance, I beeline for the drinks and grab myself a bottle of water.

Chapter 13

Olivia

Hours passand the house begins to fall silent. Trusting that most of the visitors have left, I finally venture downstairs. I prefer to stay locked in my room until my flight back to New York, but it’s not worth being scolded by my mother. Today has been tense enough, especially considering the fact that just yesterday I walked in and found my mother and my uncle, Devin, in what appeared to be a compromising situation. Of course, that was my fault, too. How dare I, not knock, before entering my childhood home. The same house I’m currently staying in.

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