Page 86 of Silent Ties

“He’s a bit clingy,” I tell Tyler who half-smiles.

My husband’s jaw clenches at the perceived joking, but the worry in Tyler’s eyes makes me nervous.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” The words are harder to get out. They sound so little in comparison to the blue-gray feelings pressing down on me.

“Thanks for coming.”

Max keeps his arm on me, helping me navigate through the graveyard.

“Hey Russ,” Tyler calls out. He remains by his mother’s burial plot. His hair is more tousled from the hand constantly running through it.

Max remains by me as I turn my head.

Tyler smiles sadly. “Quit being a ghost, you know. You’re always welcome around here.”

I’m pulled toward a black Porsche as Nancy’s voice floats through my head.

“Don’t be a stranger.” A hacking smoker's cough always emphasized the point.

Max is pissed. After tucking me into the car, he slams the door behind him, the Porsche’s engine rumbling.

“How’d you know?” I ask.

“Sergei said you were crying in a coffee shop.” He speeds away from the church, his sports car obnoxious and far too nice for this part of town.

I guess Sergei wandered back to Pavel.

“What about work?” I ask quietly.

He doesn’t respond, turning right on red. My head falls against the window. I take in the trash-strewn sidewalks. We pass a store with a busted-out window. It’s not all doom and gloom, though. A group of friends laugh as they walk. Boxes of bright blooming flowers wave in the breeze.

“Who’s the guy?” His voice isn’t hard, but it’s serious.

“His name is Tyler,” I say tiredly.

“Why was he all over you?”

Check the jealously, please.I don’t have the nerve to say it, though.

“He wasn’t all over me.” If anything he appeared surprised to see me.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He brakes for a red light, stopping slowly. “Russet.”

He takes my hand when I don’t answer, squeezing it until I look over. I expect anger in his eyes, but there’s. . . concern.

“I didn’t know.” No tears creep out but they lodge in my throat. “I didn’t know.”

Nancy used to do everything for me and I didn’t even realize she was sick.

“Who was she?” he asks, keeping one hand on the wheel while his other holds mine.

“My neighbor.” I sniff, wiping at my nose. “Nancy.”

“She meant a lot to you.” He squeezes my hand.

I nod. “Yeah. . .”

“And the kid?”

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