Page 95 of The Art Of Starting Over

“And what?” He looked at his mom in confusion.

“And are you going to go get her, or are you going to let that sorry excuse for a man take her away from us again?”

Hayden’s eyes widened at his mother’s outburst. He opened his mouth to say something and then shut it.

“Don’t act like a fish looking for water, Hayden McKenna. Go get Devorah, tell her you love her, and, by all means, don’t let her go. I can’t bear you or her suffering any more heartbreak. You’ve both had enough to last a lifetime.”

Hayden looked at his dad for some help.

“Don’t look at me, son,” Lee said as he checked the oven. “The longer you stand there, the longer it’s going to take you to get over to Crow’s and save the girl.” Lee closed the oven and looked at his son. “If I were you, I’d run.”

Hayden ran.

Twenty-Five

Devorah

Devorah ran out of steam before the wake was over. She was past the point of exhaustion. Her emotions were all over the place, and she was tired of Chad hovering over her. The fact that he was even there grated on what nerves she had left. But she couldn’t very well toss him out on his cheating ass. Not with Maren there. Even though that was exactly what Devorah wanted to do.

Growing up, she’d always loved her name, even though she couldn’t buy already-monogrammed items at the store, like notebooks, pencils, and a slew of other things. None of the material things mattered because everyone knew her name. And when they mispronounced it, which was easy to do, she calmly corrected them by saying, “It’s Debra but with av.”

Now, when Chad said her name, her blood boiled and her skin itched. Violence flashed through her mind, images of her hands around his neck and her violently shaking him until he stopped talking. That was all she wanted, for him to shut his mouth so she could think, and for him to stop the incessant “Things will be better” line he said every ten seconds.

Nothing would be better with her father gone. Not a single thing. He was the glue that held them all together, whether Crow knew it ornot. He was the one Devy had turned to after her husband betrayed her, even though they had a rocky relationship. Crow was there when she needed him the most.

Devorah stood in the middle of the living room. Crow’s recliner sat there, worn out by age and use. From there, she could see the dining room table. Every square inch of the mahogany wood had a vase of flowers on it. The strong and sometimes pungent odor of flowers permeated throughout the house and made the place smell like a funeral home. She wanted them gone and didn’t care where they went.

Without even going into the kitchen, she knew what she’d find—food. More food than they could eat. This death was different from her mother’s. Crow was different. He had touched so many lives. Both good and bad. People would miss him. The community would mourn and honor him the best they could.

Devorah longed for one more day with him. Just one more hug. Just one more time hearing him tell her he loved her. Just as she had when her mother died. That was all she’d wanted when she was younger, one more moment with her mom, to ask her every important question she could think of about becoming and being a woman.

Was that too much to ask?

It seemed it was.

The front door opened. Devorah wiped at an errant tear and turned to face her soon-to-be ex-husband and her daughter. Maren rushed to her mom and wrapped her arms around her. Dev patted her hair down and then bent to kiss the top of Maren’s head.

“Hey, why don’t you take Cordelia upstairs or go outside and play?”

“I want to stay with you and Daddy.”

“I know, but right now, your dad and I need to talk.”

“Adult stuff?”

Dev nodded, and Maren rolled her eyes. She let go of her mom and crossed her arms, letting out a huff. “I can’t wait until I’m an adult, and then I can have adult conversations.”

“Oh, how I wish I could’ve recorded you saying as such so I can remind you of it later,” Devorah said. She touched the tip of her index finger to Maren’s nose. “Go let your imagination run wild in the back. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Devy watched her daughter go to Chad and then head into the kitchen, with the dog following behind. She waited for the door to close before she opened her mouth.

“You need to go. I don’t know why you’re here, anyway. It’s not like you were close to my father.”

“Devorah,” he said as he moved toward her. “Tremaine was my father-in-law. Of course I’d be here for you and Maren.”

“Crow,” Dev said quietly.

“What about him?”

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