Page 21 of The Life We Left Behind

When I reached my car, I opened the trunk, dropped the catering paperwork for the funeral that Marie had gone through with me into the box I’d grabbed, and then slammed it closed.

I could do this. One thing at a time was how I’d survive the day.

Flowers.

That was the next thing on my list. I’d spoken with the funeral home this morning, and they’d offered to arrange all the flowers, but I wanted to order an arrangement from Cade and me. There were some things that just felt right, and this was one of them. They should be personal, and I wanted to do this myself. For some reason, my brain had fixated on it, and I wasjust going where the grief was taking me at the moment. There didn’t seem any point in fighting it.

I jogged across the road, heading down Main Street to the florist. This place was so familiar it was eerie. Now that I’d had some sleep and wasn’t running on caffeine alone, I could see the slight changes from ten years ago. But they were so small. Willowbrook had hardly changed at all. It was like stepping back into my childhood, and it was raising so many feelings I didn’t have the capacity to deal with right now.

A few people raised their hands to wave in surprise when they saw me, and I just politely smiled and kept going. I wasn’t ready to have the difficult conversation about where I’d been and why I’d left so suddenly. Marie had already told me during our meeting that she’d started to put the word out about my father’s passing, but she also warned me that people were asking questions. My father might have filled her in on mine and Cade’s life, but the rest of the town was blissfully unaware. It would come out eventually. I just didn’t know how to approach it. Perhaps I should have told Marie to just tell them. At least I’d escape their questions and awkward silences then. But I couldn’t put Marie in that position when she was doing so much for me already.

The obituary would be in the local paper tomorrow, so at least that was done. The funeral home had already arranged for it all before I’d spoken with them. I didn’t even have to write the thing. One more thing my father had ticked off the list for me before he’d even died. It was all starting to feel a bit creepy. I knew he’d thought he was helping, but it was bad enough that he’d spent the last months of his life alone. He shouldn’t have had to arrange his own funeral as well.

As the flower shop came into view, so did one change I hadn’t realized had taken place. Next door was the office frontof Farrington Holdings. It matched the business card that Trace had given me yesterday.

I hadn’t called him yet. Another conversation I didn’t know how to have, so of course, I was avoiding that one as well. I guess I could nip in now and get it over with. Instead, I ducked into the flower shop, closing the door quickly behind me and praying to all that was holy that he hadn’t seen me before I had.

I stayed close to the door, peering through the glass to see if there was any sign of him stepping out of his office. When he didn’t emerge, a strange feeling pressed against my chest, and I wasn’t sure if it was relief or regret.

My head was a complete mess right now.

“Can I help?” a voice asked behind me, and I whirled around, realizing exactly what it was that I was doing.

“Yes, sorry. I…I wasn’t sure if I saw someone I knew,” I said lamely, waving a hand over my shoulder at the door as if it hadn’t been obvious that I was hiding inside.

The lady behind the counter smiled politely at me and a rush of relief swept over me when I realized that I had absolutely no idea who she was. Apparently, there had been a few other changes around here.

“Delaney!” I turned toward the gasp and came face to face with Mrs. Shulster who had been my fourth-grade teacher. “Oh, my dear, I just heard about your father.”

I found myself at a complete loss for what to say.

My spine snapped straight, and I had the sudden urge to check my hair. I was pretty sure I had a clean shirt on, and as my gaze dipped, I wanted to wince at the fact that I had my scruffy trainers on and not proper shoes.

Mrs. Shulster had this effect on nearly everyone in our town, given that she’d taught most of us. It wasn’t that we were afraid of her as such. She was the best teacher I’d ever had. But the idea of letting her down, of not being worthy of the time she’dinvested in me, was enough to make me want to sit myself outside of the principal’s office while I thought about what I’d done.

She looked exactly the same as I remembered her: plaid pencil skirt, white blouse, and her hair tastefully tied back without a single hair falling loose. The only difference was the small dog tucked under her arm whose head lolled to the side, its tongue sticking out with a bead of drool dripping dangerously close to that pristine white blouse.

In fact…was it dead?

“Erm, your dog.” I pointed at the strange dog, wondering if it could be stuffed because I was pretty sure it wasn’t breathing, and its glassy eyes seemed to be looking in two different directions.

“Oh, don’t mind Titus. He always gets sleepy after he eats.” She jostled the little potentially dead dog in her arms, and it just bounced before lying draped over her arm again.

Yeah, I was pretty sure Titus was no longer with us, and from the smell that was now floating in my direction, he could have been that way for a while.

I looked around, wondering where the woman from the counter had gone and if I should be doing something. Was I supposed to tell someone about Mrs. Shulster and her dead dog? I had absolutely no idea what I should do in this situation.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said sympathetically, gently rubbing my arm. “You look so lost without him. Losing someone close to you is the hardest thing you’ll ever go through, but you’re not alone, Delaney. We’re all here. We’ll be with you every step of the way.”

She sounded so genuine, and it made me forget about the potentially dead dog that was now way closer than my nose was comfortable with.

This was what I’d missed about Willowbrook. The people in the city were nothing like those who lived in small towns. I’d missed the community that came from a place like this. When I was a kid, it had been so annoying that everyone was all up in my business all the time. There was nothing we could get away with. Someone always reported back to our parents, no matter how careful we thought we’d been.

But there was something about being here that always felt safe. It was why we’d got into as much trouble as we had. Because we weren’t afraid to be kids.

“Thank you,” I told her, genuinely meaning it. “I’ve…I think I’ve missed this place.”

“And we’ve missed you too, Delaney. Now, is there anything I can do to help you make arrangements?”

---