Page 56 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cissy told her. At least Diedre wasn’t telling her what a hunk her husband was.

Cissy rubbed the back of her neck and glanced through the glass doors to the patio, where Jack was still lobbying for someone, presumably Jannelle, to haul his father home. Geez, she was tired. She glanced at the clock and hoped everyone would leave soon. “Cissy?” Cherise’s voice was right in her ear.

Inwardly Cissy groaned. She’d taken her eyes off her father’s cousin for less than five minutes, and the woman had taken the opportunity to approach her. “Can I talk to you a second?”

No! Cissy thought but pasted a smile on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

As if she didn’t know.

“Well, this is a little awkward, it being Auntie Genie’s funeral and all.”

Auntie Genie? Gran was probably rolling over in her newly turned grave.

Cherise inched away from the kitchen to a quieter spot at the base of the stairs, and reluctantly Cissy followed, only to discover Cherise’s big husband waiting near the hall tree. Six five or six, the Reverend Donald in his clerical collar, black shirt, and leather jacket offered a smile that hinted he and God were tight. “I’m so sorry for your, for our, loss,” he said. “Eugenia was a wonderful woman.”

Oh, really? Cissy thought. As far as she knew, Gran had never given Cherise or any of her husbands the time of day. And now, after she was dead, she was wonderful?

“I’ll miss her,” Cissy said.

“We all will.” The Reverend Donald’s voice was smooth as ice.

Cherise touched Cissy’s arm. “Maybe we could go to lunch somewhere later in the week or,” she added quickly, seeing the denial forming on Cissy’s lips, “if that doesn’t work for you, how about dinner?”

“What is it you want to talk about?” Cissy asked, stepping out of the way as Rosa, carrying a few dirty dishes, aimed for the kitchen.

“The family, of course. There’s been such a rift, and I absolutely hate it. I’ve talked to Nick. He knows how I feel.” She motioned toward the dining room, where Uncle Nick and his wife were speaking with a man Cissy had met, but couldn’t quite place…maybe an insurance agent or a banker who’d worked with Eugenia? Her brother James was scavenging at the table of desserts, and she felt a tug on her heart. She should have been closer to him. Gran would have wanted that. A part of her wanted it as well. Their family was so small, and shrinking by the day, it seemed.

Because of Marla. So

mehow, she’d orchestrated Gran’s death, and Rory’s as well.

Cissy’s stomach burned, as it always did lately whenever she thought of the woman who had borne her. Could she be so different from the psycho? Her own mother?

But she couldn’t think of her now.

Not today.

Cissy turned back to Cherise with her big, pleading eyes. “So, what do you want to do to mend this, uh, ‘rift’?” Cissy asked, trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice and wishing there was some way to get out of the conversation.

“First, we should have a family get-together,” Cherise said, glancing at her husband as if for confirmation. That was the problem with Cherise. She wasn’t a bad person. Just weak. Always leaning on her husband, looking at him as if he might just be the embodiment of the Second Coming of Christ.

She couldn’t remember all the details, but there was something unsavory in Donald Favier’s past, something that had less to do with football and more to do with underage girls. Wasn’t that right? It didn’t matter to Cherise, obviously, as she was gazing adoringly at Reverend Donald, entwining her arm through his.

Donald was nodding. “Afterward we can hold a more formal meeting with family attorneys involved. There are still a few issues that haven’t been settled.”

“What issues?” Cissy asked cautiously.

“Oh.” Cherise lifted her shoulder. “You know, the family trust, that sort of thing. Now that you’re in charge.”

“I’m in charge?”

“Well, you’re the primary beneficiary of Aunt Genie’s estate.”

“I am?” Cissy asked. “And you know this…how?”

Donald smiled and held out his hands, his fingers open, several gold rings catching the light. “Of course we’ve talked to the attorneys.”

“Ahh…”

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