Page 85 of The One I Need
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
I flinch at the use of my full name. Funny how something so simple can have such an impact on you.
“Is everything okay?”
“No,” she says evenly. “Your father is dead.”
“Dad’s dead? What? How?”
Oliver must see the shock in my eyes because he immediately brings my hand to his lips, trying to comfort me anyway he can.
“He had a heart attack last night.”
“And you’re just calling now to tell me?
“Your sister wanted to, but we needed to make arrangements, and I figured we’d get to you when we did.”
I can’t even laugh at that, because it doesn’t surprise me in the least. “Well then why didn’t she call me today?”
“We needed Jessie at the store,” my mother says in her even, heartless tone. “She’s doing what a good daughter would do at this time.”
Oh, here we fucking go. Even when a family tragedy is happening, my mother can’t help but get in a few digs.
“I’m sure you could close the store for a little bit, Mom. I’m sure the four families in that town can buy a couch next week.”
“This is why I didn’t call you. I didn’t need to hear your attitude.”
“Well, then, whydidyou call, Mom?”
“Because you need to be at the funeral.”
Now I can’t hold in my laughter. “You want me to come home for the funeral? The daughter who can’t do anything right? The disappointment of the family?”
I hear her let out a sigh. I should know what those sound like. I heard them repeatedly in the first eighteen years of my life. “Despite our differences, you should be here to pay respects to your father. The funeral is in two days. And please, don’t cause a scene. For once in your life, have a little decorum.”
My mom hangs up on me before I can do it to her. “My dad’s dead.”
“I’m so sorry,” Oliver says, helping me stand up as we go back to the couch. Oliver brings me into his arms, I think expecting me to cry. But I don’t. There’s not one ounce of emotion coming from me.
“I have to go back for the funeral.”
“Of course. I’ll check for our flights.”
It takes me a few seconds, but I realize that Oliver said “our.” I sit up so I can look and make sure I heard what I just heard.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m going with you.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Yes I am.”
“Oliver,” I say as he starts doing something on his phone, presumably looking up flights to nowheres-ville Nebraska. “Stop.”
I put my hand on the phone and lower it for him. I need him to look me in the eye for this.
“Oliver, I love that you want to come with me and support me. But I haven’t been back to Nebraska in sixteen years. This is going to be ugly, messy, and downright horrible. And that’s just my family.”
