Page 3 of Sweet Redemption
“Your mother had a heart attack two days ago, and fell into a coma. We tried to get a hold of you, but your last cell number was disconnected. Bryce finally tracked Brian down late last night and got your number from him. Markus, the doctor told your father that your mother’s brain scan showed no activity. So your father, in compliance with your mother’s living will, had her pulled off of life support.”
My legs gave out from under me and I collapsed against the square island in the middle of the kitchen, my head smacking against the edge of the granite countertop as I slid down to the floor. The pain lanced through my skull, but the news of Mom’s death ripped my heart and lungs right out of my chest.
“Markus?”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked in response. Was I crying? Swiping my hand across my wet face…Shit. I was crying. Even with all the pompousness and arrogance, she was a good mother. She didn’t deserve to die. And now, I could never say what I wanted to say to her.I’m sorry, Mom.
Apologize for leaving. Sorry for not calling her back and not being there to say goodbye. Just so damned sorry for…everything.
If it were my father who died, I wouldn’t waste a single fucking tear for the man. By all accounts, Markus Sr. should be the one lying in the morgue. The hatred I had for the old man burned so deep with such passion, I could drown from it. But my mother? This was unfair.
“Your father is requesting that you come home right away for the funeral arrangements.”
Requesting? Yeah, right.That man never asked for anything. He demanded it.
“Can you and Bryce handle it?” I choked out the words as numbness started to spread out through my body. Flashes of memories of the strong woman I knew her to be hit me hard, which added another layer of grueling agony to my battered heart.
“Yes, sure. But Markus?” Beth’s voice pulled me out of his dark reflection.
“Yeah?” I wiped another runaway tear.
“Your father wants the wake to be held this Friday,” Beth said.
“Fine,” I bit out.
“Okay. When do you think you’ll arrive? Bryce and I will pick you up at the airport.”
“I’m going to drive in,” I said quickly. I wasn’t sure where that idea came from, but I knew I needed to clear my head and a drive home…home, would do it. I hoped anyway.
“Driving?” Beth asked, surprised. “Why?”
“Need to clear my head.” And the last thing I wanted to do was to walk in with tears in my eyes in front of the old man and give him something else to use against me.
There was a long pause before she spoke again. “I understand. Call us—me, when you get here.”
“Beth?”
“Yes, Markus?”
“Why didn’t Bryce or Dad call me?” The silence on the other end of the phone spoke volumes. “Don’t bother answering. I get it.”
“We’ll get through this. Together.” Beth said those words like a pledge. I loved her optimism, but she’d never endured a Landry crisis before, and this topped the heap—no. My mother’s death obliterated it.
“See you in a few days, Beth.” With that, I hung up.
With my ass still on the floor in the kitchen, I leaned back against the island, contemplating what I needed to do first. Driving would give me time to reflect, but there was nothing I could do to bring back my mother.
I stood and looked down at my hands. The empty bottle of beer was still tight in my grip; I chucked it hard and fast against the wall. Glass exploded on contact. Shards were everywhere. Thanks to the island, it took most of the glass from the blowback.
Fuck. I walked out of the kitchen and began to make some calls.
