Chapter 45

Miguel loved me. The words repeated in my mind over and over. They filled me with a warmth I hadn't known I was missing. They sustained me through the night when Cody woke up screaming for his mother and we spent two hours getting him to calm down and go back to sleep. They held me up while I stood beside my sister's casket, greeting the mass of people who came to tell me what a wonderful person she was and how much they were going to miss her.

And they were bolstering me now as I watched my mother, dressed in black, long salt and pepper hair in a neat braid down her back, makeup lightly applied, stumble and weave her way past the rows of chairs, nearly falling into the photo collage of pictures from Allie's life. She stopped briefly to touch a flower arrangement that was set on a low table. She looked around as if to get her bearings and accidentally ran into a group of people. Beside me, Miguel stiffened. "Is that your mother?"

"Yes," I replied through clenched teeth.

"Oh my god, she looks just like Allie. I mean," he corrected, "Allie looked just like her."

"Yes, she did," I acknowledged.

"Is she"—he hesitated before continuing—"drunk?'

"Yep," I answered, popping the P while keeping my eyes on her approaching figure.

"Shit."

Not that long ago, I would have freaked out and gone chasing after my mother, pleading with her to behave herself. Not this time. I was done trying to help her save face. I was just glad Cody was currently outside playing with Diego and Emma under the watchful eye of his babysitter and Miguel's sister. He didn't need to see this.

Marissa saw my mother's unsteady progress and hurried over to take her arm and guide her toward us. I took hold of Miguel's hand and steeled myself for the encounter with my mother.

When they finally got to us, Marissa mouthed, "Sorry," before stepping aside.

Mother squinted up at me, her eyes glazed. "Zachary."

"Mom," I replied.

She looked around as if she were lost. "Where is she? Where's my baby girl?"

I gestured to the casket behind me. "She's there, Mom."

Her voice rose. "Why can't I see her? Why do you have it closed? I want to see her."

I lowered my voice in the hope she'd lower hers. "It would have been too confusing for Cody to see her lying there looking like she was asleep."

Her attention was diverted. "Cody? Where's my grandson?"

I clenched my jaw. "He's outside playing with his friends."

"Where?" she shouted, looking around the crowded room. "I want to see him."

Before I could lose my ever-loving shit on my mother during my sister's wake, Andrea came up behind her and spoke softly. "Hey there, Mrs. Kelley. Why don't we take a walk outside and see if we can find Cody?"

Andrea didn't really give my mother a choice. She put her arm around her shoulders and directed her toward the open double doors that led into the hallway. Dante joined Andrea on the other side of my mother and leaned down to speak to her in a low voice. They deftly steered her out of the room and out of sight.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. "I'll have to go take care of this," I said to Miguel.

"Do you want me to stay here or go with you?" he asked.

I was torn. I wanted him with me to be an anchor for me. On the other hand, I didn't want to completely abandon everyone who'd come to say goodbye to Allie. Before I could answer, Marissa said, "Both of you go. You've been standing up here for more than an hour. Steve and I will stay here, and if someone really needs you, I'll text you."

"Okay." I hugged her. "Thank you."

Miguel and I went in the direction I saw them take my mother. Marco was standing in the hallway. He pointed toward a closed door. "The funeral director told them to take her to a private room."

"Thanks," I said as we headed in that direction.

We entered a small sitting room where I assumed they let mourners who were too overwhelmed with grief go to collect themselves. What about the ones who were too drunk to stand up straight?

My mother was sitting in an armchair crying. Andrea was kneeling beside her, holding her hand. Dante stood by the door, looking uncomfortable. "Hey, you two. Thanks for stepping in. We'll take it from here."

Dante nodded and squeezed my shoulder on his way out. Andrea patted my mother's hand and stood. "Good luck," she whispered when she passed me.

I looked down at my mother, who was sitting with her head bowed, holding a crumpled tissue in her hand. I sighed, grabbed another armchair, and set it down in front of her. Miguel stood behind me with his hand on my shoulder. "Mom," I began in a firm voice. "What's going on? Why are you drunk at your daughter's wake?"

"I couldn't do it," she cried. "Your father wouldn't get up. Your brother never answered my calls. I was all alone."

For a moment, I felt sorry for her, and I almost fell back into placating her and telling her it was okay. But I couldn't. Allie had been all alone too, and she'd managed to raise Cody, take care of him, and make sure he was protected. "I'm sorry you were alone, but that's on you. You're an alcoholic. I've asked— No, I've begged you to get help. I brought you information on rehab programs and outpatient groups. I took you to meetings. I brought people to talk to you. But it never stuck. You always had an excuse. You had to keep up with Dad. You wouldn't think for yourself."

"I tried," she said angrily. "It's too hard."

"And now look where it's gotten you," I went on relentlessly. "Allie's dead, and you hadn't seen her in months because the last time she brought Cody to visit, you and Dad were drunk, and Cody got so scared he hid."

"Can't I see him now?" she asked plaintively. She wiped her face with the tissue. "I'm calmer now."

I shook my head. "No. I can't do that to him. He's had enough tragedy in his life. I can't let him think he can have a relationship with you only for him to find out he can never count on you to be there for him."

Her face crumpled. "Zachary, please. He's my only grandchild."

Miguel squeezed my shoulder. I reached back and put my hand over his. "The only way I'll let you have any contact with Cody is if you get sober."

"You can't do that!" she protested.

"I can and I will," I retorted.

Her gaze fixed on my and Miguel's hands. Her eyes narrowed. "Who is he? Why is he here?"

"This is Miguel. He's my boyfriend," I said calmly, even though my heart was racing. "He's here to support me."

Her lip curled up in a sneer. "So, your father was right. You are a f?—"

I put up my hand. "Stop right there," I snarled. Unconsciously, my voice slipped into my sergeant tone, escalating until I was sure they could hear outside. "One more word and you will never see Cody again. I don't care how sober you get."

Her jaw dropped in shock. I'd never raised my voice to her before. I'd always let her get away with saying whatever she wanted, excusing her because she was drunk. Not this time. I wasn't going to let her disrespect the man I loved.

I stood. "I think I've said all there is to say. Come back to me when you can prove you're sober and have the support in place to stay sober. Cody deserves that. Frankly, I deserved it a long time ago, but it's too late for that now. If you're lucky, you can at least have a relationship with your grandson."

All the fight went out of her, and she slumped in her chair, tears tracking mascara down her face.

"Should I order her a rideshare?" Miguel asked.

I shook my head. "I'm going to ask if Marco will let one of his team drive her home. If we put her in a taxi or a rideshare, she'll have them stop at the nearest bar."

I opened the door, and as expected, Marco was standing outside. Since his brother, Tony, had loaned us a bunch of Cadillac Escalades to use for the funeral, I asked, "Would it be okay if someone drove my mother home?"

"You bet," he replied. "Andrea and Pete already volunteered."

"Thank you again," I said. "I owe your whole team a night out."

Marco chuckled. "You might regret that. Or, at least, your wallet might."

"Totally worth it," I said.

Andrea came back into the room and gently guided my mother out to the waiting vehicle. I stayed in the room, saying to Marco, "I just need a minute." He nodded in understanding.

I closed the door and Miguel held his arms out to me. I collapsed into his embrace, my whole body trembling with rage and grief. "I don't know what I'd do without you," I said hoarsely. "This is so unfair to you. You didn't sign up for this level of bullshit."

"I signed up to be with you because I love you," Miguel replied. "This is what it's all about. Hearts and flowers are nice, but this is real life. There will be times when I'll need you to hold me up, and I know you'll do it because you already have."

We stood there wrapped in each other's arms while I allowed myself to bask in the peace Miguel was offering me. He was right. This was what love was.