unresponsive.
“Have you shed even one tear?” she asked him, rubbingrown-upg his back as she’d seen her mother do when Jeff was little and came home fighting tears after some schoolyard incident.
“I’m not crying over him!” he retorted furiously, every muscle still tense. “I’m not. He was on my case all the time. Why should I be sorry he’s dead.”
“Jeff, he was our dad. Sure you fought. All kids fight with their parents, but there’s no denying that you’ve lost someone very important to you. It’s natural to feel some anger, because this is the last thing any of us were expecting to happen, but you also have a right to be sad.”
His lip quivered then, but he fought it. When tears welled up in his eyes, he turned away. “I am not crying,” he said staunchly.
She bit back a grin at the brave words. “Okay, then, how about going into the kitchen and starting breakfast while I take a shower?”
“Alone?” he asked, the bitterness back in his voice as he scowled in Matt’s direction.
“Yes, alone,” she said, giving him a smack on his arm. “Stop acting like such a jerk. You know perfectly well nothing’s going on between Matt and me. Matt’s been like a big brother to all of us. Now, go.”
She turned to find Matt staring after Jeff, his expression worried. Or was that some other emotion in his eyes? Sorrow, possibly?
“You’re going to have to keep an eye on him,” he warned, turning back to her at last, his expression composed. “He’s furious and he hasn’t figured out what to do with all that rage yet.”
“I don’t think any of us have,” Emma responded, admitting for the first time aloud that she, too, was furious. This should never have happened, and if her father was gone because he’d chosen to die, it would be a thousand times worse.
“Yes, but you’re not a twenty-year-old boy who’s still finding himself. I’ve been there,” Matt reminded her. “I know what the choices are and exactly how easy it is to make the wrong one.”
“You never made any bad choices,” Emma said.
Matt regarded her with a rueful grin. “Oh, yes, I did, but your dad was around to steer me back onto the right path. Jeff won’t have that kind of guidance.”
Emma deliberately met his gaze. “He’ll have you, won’t he?”
Matt looked momentarily taken aback that she was placing her faith in him, but then he nodded slowly. “I’ll do what I can, but it won’t be the same. And based on the way things have gone here this morning, I’m not sure he’ll listen to me.”
Emma sighed. “No, it won’t be the same, but it will be more than good enough. Jeff idolized you once. When he calms down, he’ll turn to you. I’m counting on that.”
Their gazes remained locked for what seemed an eternity before Matt finally looked away. When he looked back, there was a once familiar spark of mischief in his eyes.
“You know, Jeff did have an interesting idea a minute ago,” he said mildly.
“Oh?” she said, instantly suspicious.
“You know that shower you’re about to take? We could cut expenses and save on water, if I were to join you.”
Emma laughed at the outrageous suggestion, though the sound of her voice seemed a little unsteady, even to her. More than once since she’d returned there had been this little shock of awareness with Matt, something that proved he no longer fit neatly into that surrogate big brother slot she’d always kept him in.
“In your dreams, Atkins,” she said tartly, trying to mentally push him back where he belonged.
He murmured something as she left the room, something that sounded a little like, “You’ve got that right.”
* * *
Matt spent the day at the Killians’ fielding calls from the medical examiner, who still had precious little information to offer about Don’s death beyond ruling out a heart attack or stoke, from his colleagues and from concerned residents of Winter Cove who wanted to express their condolences to the Killians. None of the family, though, were up to taking the calls themselves. Matt made note of everyone who called, so Rosa and the family would know how many people in Winter Cove truly cared.
Emma was clearly overwhelmed. Andy had once again retreated to his tree house and Jeff had taken off for parts unknown right after breakfast, mumbling something about a girl named Marisol expecting him. As for Rosa, she had refused breakfast, then sent Emma away, insisting that she had no intention of taking part in the planning of her husband’s funeral.
“Do whatever you want,” she had told Emma.
That had been her final word. Nothing Emma or even Matt had said could persuade her to reconsider. Nor would she see any of the steady stream of visitors who appeared at the front door bearing casseroles, fruit baskets or homemade cakes and pies. The dining room table was beginning to sag under the weight of all that food and Emma was starting to sag under the weight of her burden.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said, regarding Matt helplessly. “Should I just go ahead and make the arrangements? Obviously they’d never made any plans for something like this.”
“You tell me what day and time you want the service and I’ll do that,” Matt told her. “Why don’t you call a couple of your mother’s friends and ask them to come over here and talk to her? Maybe it would be easier for her to talk to one of them than it is for her to face you.”
“Why on earth would she feel that way?” Emma asked.
“Think about it,” Matt said. “She must have the same questions that have occurred to you and me. If she suspects Don’s death wasn’t an accident, she must feel as if she let down not only Don, but all of you.”
Emma nodded at once. “I’ll call Helen. Mama turned her away this morning, but I’ll plead with Helen not to give up this time. Helen’s been through this kind of thing herself.” She sighed. “I take that back. Her husband died after a long illness. It’s not the same thing at all, is it?”
“She was still left to cope with her grief,” Matt said. “And make no mistake, your mother is grieving.”
“Matt, are we ever going to know what really happened at the lake?” Emma asked. “Or are we going to live with this uncertainty?”
“Will a ruling from the medical examiner that it was an accident satisfy you?”
Emma’s expression went from thoughtful to sad. “That’s what I want more than anything, but to be honest, it won’t erase the doubts. I need to know what really happened. If there’s any chance at all it was a suicide, I need to know why he did it.”
“Then you intend to pursue this?” he said wearily. “I figured as much.”
“Will you help?”
“I’ll do what I can. But Emma, until we know something more, I don’t think you should share your doubts with your family.”
She
