“I love you too, little munchkin. So, so much.” I pepper his face with kisses as Angela appears in the doorway.
“Hey, pipsqueak! Guess who just arrived downstairs?”
“Nash!” Easton bounces off the bed, almost tumbling in his impatience to get to his friend.
Angela laughs, ruffling his hair. I stand, and her expression softens as I approach. “It was a beautiful service, and your mom’s eulogy was perfect.” She squeezes my arm.
“It was.”
“I’ll take good care of Easton. Don’t worry about him.”
“Thank you.” I blow E a kiss. “Have fun and be good for Angela.”
“I will, Mom. Bye.” He races off toward the stairs with Angela hot on his heels.
I find Mom and Dad downstairs in the formal living room, greeting the first guests. They offer condolences, and I thank them for coming as I eye the bar with longing.
Charlotte hired a catering company today, along with waitresses and bartenders.
“I need to talk to you both,” I tell my parents, jerking my head toward the door. If I don’t grab them now, we won’t get to speak, and I know Dillon’s family will be here because Mom mentioned she spoke to Cath outside the church and invited them. I’m sure she didn’t want to invite Dillon but she was too polite to upset his mother.
Funerals are a lot like weddings in that regard. You’re forced to put up with guests you wouldn’t ordinarily invite, except it’s the done thing.
My parents follow me into my office, and Dad closes the door. I’m sorry I didn’t grab a vodka cranberry for this conversation. “I have something you both need to know. Something I should’ve told you sooner, but, honestly, I’ve been trying to forget it.” I sit on one of the leather couches, knotting my hands in my lap.
“Whatever it is,” Mom says, dropping onto the couch beside me. “We’ll deal with it together.”
Dad squeezes my shoulder, before sitting on the couch across from us. “We’ve got you. Now and always, princess.”
Tears prick my eyes. “I know you do. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.” I look at my father, and he seems to have aged so much in the past week. “I know you think you haven’t helped much, Dad, but taking care of the funeral arrangements, and pushing the reading of the will back with Carson, and handling stuff with Margaret and Edwin means so much to me. I could not have coped with any of that.”
“We hate to see you in so much pain,” Dad says. “Whatever we can do to help make it better, we will.”
“Love you, Daddy.”
Dad gets up, leaning down to give me a gentle hug. “You’re our whole world, Vivien. You and Easton will always be our priority.”
“Love you too, Mom,” I say when Dad has moved back to his seat. “I could not have gotten through this week without you, and I know how hard it’s been on you as well. I know how much you both loved Reeve. How much you were both looking forward to meeting Lainey.” A lone tear treks down my face.
Mom cradles me in her arms. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. We will all get through this together.”
“I need to talk to you about Dillon.”
Mom nods. “I didn’t want to push you, but we need to know what’s going on.”
I tell them. I tell them everything. Giving them a summary of how it went down since Dillon showed up here that fateful day, explaining the things he told me and ending with the confirmation Dillon is Easton’s father.
“Oh my God. Vivien.” Mom clamps a hand over her mouth as tears stream down her face. “And Reeve knew this before he died?”
Tears leak out of my eyes. “Yes. My husband died angry with me for lying to him and with the knowledge the son he worshiped wasn’t his flesh and blood,” I croak. “I hate myself so much.”
“Don’t,” Alex says, entering the room with his wife. Audrey is carrying a tray of drinks.
“We thought you might need these, and we wanted to let you know the O’Donoghues just arrived,” Audrey says. I had told my bestie I was telling my parents everything right now.
“Don’t hate yourself, Viv.” Alex perches on the arm of the couch. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is no one’s fault,” Audrey says, shooting her husband a warning look. “It was a tragic accident, and pointing the finger of blameanywherewon’t help.” She sets the tray with drinks down on the coffee table.