Nix & Scotlyn: The Wedding Page 2

  She collapsed against me. “They just don’t make chairs like this anymore,” she sighed happily.

  “Let’s move this out to the couch. This well-made chair is starting to feel hard on my ass.”

  She stood and led me back to the main room, which was only slightly bigger than the kitchen. We climbed under the blanket Scotlyn had packed for our little celebration. My attention flitted to my shorts that were draped over the arm of the couch. I took a deep breath and reached for the box. My phone rang right then. I abandoned my plans to grab the box and glanced down at the screen.

  “It’s my sister,” I said. “I’ll call her later.” Diana’s ill-timed call had made my courage falter. I leaned back.

  Scotlyn rested her head against my shoulder and brought the blanket under her chin. “Sometimes, when I’m sitting here with you like this, I have to assure myself that this is all real. You make me incredibly happy, Nix Pierce.” She lifted her face and kissed my cheek.

  That was my cue. I took a deep breath and reached for the box. She hadn’t noticed it in my hand yet. “Scottie, please promise me that you’ll be with me forever.” I lifted the box up above the blanket and opened it. Her blue eyes rounded as she looked at the ring. I turned toward her. “Scotlyn James, will you marry me?”

  Her mouth parted, and she gazed speechlessly at the ring. My phone rang again. I was crossing my sister off the wedding list.

  Scotlyn looked at my phone with worry. “You need to answer it.” Unfathomable hardship and heartbreak had given her an uncanny ability to sense trouble. I grabbed the phone. “Diana?”

  “Nix,” Diana sobbed. I knew what was coming next before the words even came through the phone. “Nana’s gone.”

  Scotlyn read my expression, and her hands flew to her face.

  “Diana, I’ll call you back in a few.” I couldn’t keep the waver out of my voice. I stuck the ring box back in my pocket and pulled Scotlyn into my arms.

  Chapter 2

  Scotlyn

  Nana looked more fragile today than usual, but her eyes sparkled with a gleam I hadn’t seen before. She was sitting propped up against her pillow. My usual chair had already been placed by her bedside. There were days when it took her a few moments to remember who I was. She’d only known me for just over a year. I wasn’t one of the lucky people who had known her their whole life, but we’d grown extremely close in the short time. Nana had wanted her memoirs written in long hand, insisting every story turned out more interesting in handwriting. And my long years of silence had taught me to be an extremely fast writer.

  Helping her write down her long, wonderful history before it was shredded away by her disease had helped me more than it had helped her. Her life story, complete with humor, adventure and plenty of heartbreak, had helped me face my own terrible tragedy. In her youth, Nana had been an academic, a left wing activist, what some might have called a radical. But to me, she had been part of the same culture as my parents. But while Nana’s hardcore edge had softened as she grew older, my own parents had not had the chance to mellow with age.

  “Come sit, Scotlyn.” Her smile glowed as usual, but there was something behind it today. “We are not going to write memoirs today.”

  I placed the paper pad and pen on the nightstand.

  “Oh, but you’ll need that, my dear.” The haze in her pale eyes grew more opaque each day. “My doctor says my heart is not going to last much longer.”

  I bit back tears and took hold of her hand. It was soft and mottled with age spots.

  “No tears, please, my dear. You know, I consider myself lucky to go long before my memory is completely erased.” She patted my hand. “Now, here’s what I have in mind, and we must hurry because the drugs, the B-12 shot, and my enthusiasm for this have sharpened my mind today. I’m going to dictate a letter for you to read at my funeral.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Me?”

  “Yes. And it won’t all be sugar and roses.”

  I laughed. “A letter from you? No, I wouldn’t expect sugar and roses.”

  “There will be plenty of heartfelt words, but I thought it might be fun to slap a few people from the grave. More effective, I think.”

  I smiled. “I might need a few shots of whiskey to deliver the letter, but if it’s your wish, then I’m at your command.”

  “Wonderful. I know you can do it.” Her smile always reminded me of warm tea and honey on a dreary day. “I can’t think of a lovelier person to be my voice at my own funeral. Of course, that is, assuming people will show up to it.” She laughed.

  “I’m sure they will.”

  “I’ve told Diana what my wishes are, but perhaps, I should tell you too. My granddaughter sometimes has a hard time hearing over her own opinions.”

  I smiled. I’d only met Nix’s sister a few times, but I’d already come to that conclusion about her.

  “I want a gravesite funeral only, because I want to be by my husband and son’s sides as quickly as possible. No in between baloney. And no open casket. Please don’t let anyone see me dead. People never look their best when they’re dead.”

  Nana was one of the few people who could make you want to cry and laugh in the same moment.

  “Well, shall we get started?” she asked. “Scotlyn?”

  “Scotlyn?” Cassie’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

  I stared down at the paper with Nana’s letter. I’d written it in short hand to keep up with her words, which on that day had flowed quickly and with incredible alacrity, making it seem unfathomable to think the woman suffered from dementia. I’d rewritten the letter in large clear print to make sure I didn’t stumble over any word, but my courage had waned once we got to the cemetery.

  “How are you feeling?” Cassie knew about my trepidations of having to read something in front of a lot of people, many of whom were complete strangers. I’d only just found my ability to speak again a year and a half ago, and this was a daunting task for me. And having to read Nana’s words without breaking down into sobs seemed near to impossible.

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Cassie. But at the same time, I can’t let Nana down. She counted on me to be her voice at the funeral.” My fingers shook as I folded the paper and pushed it inside my purse. I waved that same shaky hand in front of my face. “Why must it always be so darn hot in summer?”

  Cassie smiled and wrapped her hand around my arm. “I could go into the whole seasons and moving closer to the sun science lecture, but I don’t think you’re in the mood. Look, Finley mentioned to me earlier that she knew some good breathing exercises if you needed them. I think you need them. She’s over there under the tree with Taylor.”

  People were starting to gather along the rather treacherously steep hillside where Nana’s funeral would take place. A half circle of chairs had been arranged in front of the freshly dug grave. Nana would be buried next to her husband and her son. The Hearst would be driving down from the funeral home in a few minutes. The guys were getting their pallbearer gloves and instructions. Most of the people were, as I expected, unfamiliar. Several of Nana’s professor friends had traveled from the east coast, and a few of the nurses who had formed a special attachment to Nana had come too.

  Cassie and I held hands as we climbed to the tree where Finley and Taylor had found shade from the midday sun. An older couple who seemed extraordinarily robust and tall with pure white hair, traveled slowly down the incline to the gravesite.

  “Cassie, are those two people—”

  “Clutch and Rett’s parents? Yep. Easy to guess, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Finley,” Cassie said as we got to the tree, “Scottie needs some of those breathing exercises. She has to read Nana’s letter in front of everyone, and she’s feeling a little anxious.”

  Finley’s almond-shaped eyes peered up from under her long curtain of white bangs. “You’ve come to the right person.” She tapped her chin, apparently flipping through her mental list of breathing techniques. “Y
es, I think for a case like this we need to give you something you can do now and then again just before it’s time to go up and read. It’s call Breath Moving. Basically, you close your eyes and as you breathe imagine the oxygen flowing up to your head and then down to all your extremities, getting rid of any tingling or tremors. Think of that breath just filling your body and calming you down.” Finley glanced around. “We can all do it.”

  We grabbed hands and formed a circle. “Now, close your eyes,” Finley instructed. “Forget about everything around us, forget that we are standing in a cemetery. Transport yourself somewhere cool and quiet and dark.” Finley spoke softly. “Now, take a deep, long breath and imagine that oxygen flowing through your body.”

  We performed Finley’s breathing exercise for several minutes, and remarkably, I felt much less shaky. I was feeling better than I had in the last few days, when dealing with the reality of losing Nana had gone from shock to anger to profound heartbreak.

  The loud, rumbling motor of Clutch’s car sounded in the distance. It rolled down the stretch of road that led to the gravesite. The white Hearst followed at a snail’s pace. Clutch parked, and the four of them climbed out of the car. They pulled on their white gloves and waited for the Hearst to stop. Nix looked pale and thin. He’d hardly eaten for the last few days. And for the last few nights, he’d hardly slept. If he wasn’t tossing and turning, he was up pacing around the dark house. Aside from his dad, Nana had been the most important person in his life, and his sense of loss was palpable.

  Still holding tightly to each other’s hands, Cassie, Finley, Taylor and I walked down the hillside to where the others had gathered. Everyone watched as the Hearst parked at the curbside. A taxi pulled up several cars back, and a woman stepped out. She was dressed in a crisply tailored black suit and wore a wide brimmed black hat and sunglasses. Something about the way she carried herself reminded me of an old time movie star. She had trouble walking over the grass in her heels. She’d caught everyone’s attention. Diana had been standing with her husband and two boys near the family chairs. Her mouth dropped open. She shot a look over at Nix. Cassie noticed Diana’s reaction too.

  I looked at her. “Do you think it’s her?” I asked.

  Nix’s face was hard and his mouth was pulled tight as he strolled across the lawn to meet the woman. “I think that answers the question,” Cassie said.

  He gave her a brief, polite hug and helped her finish the long trek across the grass.

  “Poor Nix.” I hated seeing him in so much pain. “He looks like a lost little boy today.” He led his mom toward us, and some of my nervous tremors returned. His mom was pretty, someone who’d lived the good life in Europe. A lack of wrinkles for someone her age. A woman who’d hardly taken the time to fret about her husband’s death or leaving behind her kids.

  The mixture of emotion in Nix’s face made my throat tighten. “Scotlyn, this is my mom, Katherine.” With the swirl of emotion in his expression, came a tone that was as hard and cold as stone.

  “How do you do, Scotlyn?” She glanced at me for a long moment. “You are as beautiful as the pictures I’ve seen.” She turned to Nix. “Alex, sweetheart, can you help me over to Diana. I don’t trust myself on this steep slope.”

  “Nice meeting you,” I said quietly.

  Taylor elbowed me. “Hey, your first meeting with the mother-in-law. Fun, huh? I’ll bet you’re glad she lives on the next continent.”

  Cassie leaned in. “Dray’s mom is over there in the dark red dress and Florida suntan. She’s a gem too. I guess it’s only appropriate that all these people came to pay respects to the woman who took over when their parenting skills failed miserably.” Cassie’s sharp tongue never left out any of the obvious. It was part of why I loved her.

  I smiled and thought briefly about the words mother-in-law. Nix had stunned me with a proposal just as the call came in from Diana. It was wretched having to forever match those two events together. It had felt like a bad omen, and my own unplanned reaction had also left a darkness in my heart. And I couldn’t completely explain it to myself. I’d lost my entire family, and now, Nix was my only true family. I couldn’t bear the thought of ever losing him. After losing my sister and parents, I’d promised myself I would never love anyone like I loved them. Then I would never have to suffer such unspeakable loss again. My attachment to Nix scared me to death.

  So much had happened in the past few days, I was sure Nix had completely forgotten about the ring. It was for the best. “Oh no,” I said suddenly, “Nana’s letter. I didn’t expect Nix’s mom to show.”

  “Uh, let me guess,” Cassie said. “The section about Nix’s mom is not all that flattering?”

  I looked at her.

  “Maybe you could skip that part,” Finley suggested.

  I thought about that. “No, Nana told me she thought it would be fun to slap a few people from the grave.”

  The girls laughed.

  “I am so bummed I never got to meet Nana,” Finley said. “She sounds like my kind of person.”

  “Look,” Taylor said, “they’re opening the back doors of the Hearst.”

  Everyone stood and watched as Nana’s small, pearl white casket was withdrawn from the Hearst. The guys were all dressed in suits and wearing the grimmest expressions I’d ever seen. My tears flowed in torrents, the second they took their designated spots along the casket. And I realized it wasn’t just the thought that Nana was inside that pushed me to sobs, it was seeing Nix, Clutch and Dray carrying the woman who had held them in check, the woman who had saved all their butts from trouble, the woman any of them would have stepped in front of a train for. They were three of the toughest guys I knew, yet today under the blazing summer sun, looking awkward and uncomfortable in suits and ties, they looked lost and heartbroken.

  Cassie’s shoulders shook, and I placed my arm around her. Taylor came up next to me and took hold of my arm with shaky hands. She laid her head on my shoulder and tried futilely to keep up with wiping away the steady stream of tears on her face. We all three knew these guys better than anyone, anyone but Nana, of course, and now she was gone. It was going to leave a hole in all their hearts.

  The chairs were meant for the family members, but we’d left them open for some of the older attendees. Once they’d performed their pallbearer duties, the four guys joined us. It seemed each of us couldn’t get close enough to our prospective mates. I held tightly to Nix, my anchor, the solid part of my life, who if I lost, I would never recover. And he held me tightly too as if a sudden wind might sweep through at any moment and carry me away.

  Nana was not a religious woman, and the sermon was sweet and simple, the way she would have liked it. Several friends got up to speak, but none of the guys thought they could hold it together enough to say anything. For the past few days they had been eulogizing her in their own unique way, just them and a lot of beer, at our kitchen table, Nana’s kitchen table. The stories they told had us shifting between laughter and tears.

  Finley’s breathing exercises had worked for a few seconds, but when it was time for me to walk up and read Nana’s letter, the rush of nerves returned.

  Nix looked down at me. “Are you going to be all right?”

  I took a deep breath. Nana had asked this of me, and I had to suck it up and do it. I wouldn’t be able live with myself if I chickened out. I smiled and nodded. Nix kissed my forehead. Everyone seemed especially quiet as I walked up to the front.

  I unfolded the paper and looked around at the sad faces. The girls were all flashing me the thumbs up, and a nervous laugh spurted from my mouth. Then, suddenly, as if Nana had decided to stand right next to me for support, I found my tongue and my courage.

  “Hello, everyone. I’m Scotlyn. I’m Nix’s girlfriend, and I was fortunate enough to spend a lot of time with Nana—” I cleared the tightness from my throat. “Or Lucy as some of you may remember her. For the past two years, I’ve been helping Nana write down her memoirs.” I swallowed hard and took a
deep breath. “I can’t begin to tell you how special it made me feel to sit in on all her humorous, sad, wild and occasionally shocking stories. About six months ago, I walked into her room. She’d been told by the doctor that her heart wouldn’t last much longer. She’d told me she thought the one lucky aspect of being terminally ill was that you had time to make amends, tell certain people how much you loved them and to blow off a little steam if needed.” A low chuckle made its way through the crowd. I took another breath and forged on. “And so, I have a letter from Nana to read to all of you.”

  I unfurled the paper. I looked across the grass toward Nix for a shot of courage. His smile was all I needed. “First of all, I’d like to thank Scotlyn for reading this at my funeral. I would have liked to have read it myself but...well…” More quiet laughter. “I never would have considered any girl worthy of my dear little Alex, but I was utterly and completely wrong, Scotlyn. You are truly lovely.” My throat seized up briefly. I swallowed away the dryness and forged on. “To Greta and Nancy, my two nurses, I just want to say thanks for putting up with me on grumpy days. I know I was a bear, and you two always smiled through it. Oh, and by the way, on the mornings when I’d adamantly insisted that I hadn’t had my donut yet and you both humored me with another donut figuring I had just forgotten, it was a trick. I figured, what’s the use of having dementia if you can’t use it occasionally to get a second maple bar? Which brings me to my little shout out to the inventor of donuts— well done.”

  Laughter followed. The two nurses, in tears, hugged each other. “And to my dear old friends, Ruth and Terrence, shame on you both for outliving me, but let me say, I wouldn’t have given up my days of knowing you both for anything. What, between our arrests for protesting the war, our unbreakable resolve in thinking that our opinions were the only ones that mattered and our week long celebration of the Nixon resignation...well, anyhow, it will all be in the book.” More laughter, which made my task easier.