Page 65 of Forgotten Deeds

That settled, he turns off the water, and we step out of the shower. Wrapping a towel around myself, I say, “Alright. I’m going to call Harrison’s partner to see about funeral arrangements, and then I’m going to tell Iris.”

“You want me to be there when you break the news to her?” he asks.

“Let me talk to her alone first,” I decide, blotting my hair dry with another towel.

He nods, giving me a peck before walking out.

Quickly getting ready, I walk to the bedroom and throw on some clothes before grabbing my phone and calling Ethan; he answers on the first ring. “Lily.”

“Hey, Ethan. How are you holding up?” I ask gently.

“It still seems unreal at this point,” he says in a dazed tone.

“Yeah, it does,” I agree. “I read a report about a break-in at Harrison’s place. Have you heard anything else?”

“Just a bunch of whispers and hearsay. One bullshit rumor about Harrison being mixed up with drugs.”

“What?” I say in disbelief.

“Agreed. People need to keep their fucking mouths shut,” he says angrily before pausing. “Sorry about my language.”

“Don’t apologize. You have every right to be upset,” I assure him. “What about funeral arrangements?”

“You know Harrison and his old man were estranged, but suddenly his pops shows up acting like the bereaved father of the year,” he says with a snort. “Anyway, the funeral is tomorrow at two at Saint Peters Church. It wasn’t a line-of duty death, so it’ll be smaller scale—but everyone from our patrol unit will be there,” he explains.

“And Iris and I will be there,” I add.

“Good. Now, are you going to tell me where the hell you’ve been? Detective Regan’s been looking for you; I didn’t know what to tell him.”

“Mama!” Iris calls, running into the bedroom holding Lucky in one hand, a fishing pole toy in the other.

“Ethan, I’m sorry, but I have to go. I promise we’ll talk tomorrow,” I say, ending the call. “Hey, sweetie,” I tell Iris.

“Mama, watch this!” She sits Lucky down and moves the feather on the fishing line; the cat swats at it a few times before rolling over on her back, trying a different angle.

“How fun,” I comment. “Iris, I need to talk to you about something important. Come sit with me,” I say, patting the foot of the bed.

She climbs up beside me, and there’s no easy way to say this, so I jump right in. “Your dad died, sweetie. Do you know what ‘died’ means?”

“Like Princess Peacock’s dad,” she says, bouncing the fishing pole.

“That’s right, like in your book. Your dad’s in heaven now, so we won’t be able to see him anymore,” I explain.

She doesn’t say anything, continuing to dangle the feather as Lucky rolls back over and swipes at it; her claw gets stuck this time.

Helping Lucky untangle herself, I tell Iris, “Can we wait on playing for just a second?” I smooth a blonde wisp of hair framing Iris’ face before taking the fishing pole from her. Laying it on the bed, I continue, “I want you to understand your dad won’t be coming back, but we can always love and remember him in our hearts,” I say, touching mine.

“Okay,” is all she says.

“It’s alright to be sad if you need to be,” I gently tell her. “We’ll go to the funeral tomorrow afternoon. It’s a time to remember your dad. Some people might be upset and crying, and that’s okay.”

“I know what a funeral is. My friend went to her grandma’s funeral,” she tells me matter-of-factly.

“Ah, alright.”

“I’m hungry,” she announces.

“Then let’s go see about breakfast,” I tell her, worried what I just told her didn’t register.

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