today was because Mason and Alec’s folks flew out in the morning.
Holding her hands clasped on her knees, Hattie closed her eyes, contrasting her remembered images of Mason with ones recently gained.
He’d always been taller than her, but now she felt positively petite standing beside him—not an easy feat for a woman a few local teens still called Fattie Hattie. Not only had he grown in height, but stature. He’d shoveled in his Sorel boots, jeans and a brown long-johns top that had clung to broadened shoulders and pecs. When he’d shoveled, his biceps could’ve earned their own zip code. Sure, in the bar she owned plenty of fit men came and went, but none caused her stomach to somersault with just a flash of a crooked smile. Mason’s blue eyes had darkened and lines now creased the corners. His perpetually mussed dark hair shone with golden highlights. She was two years younger than him, and while the few other kids they’d gone to school with mercilessly teased her about her weight, he’d actually talked to her, sharing her love of astronomy and fishing and most of all...her sister.
On Mason and Melissa’s wedding day, Hattie had tried being happy, but in actuality, she’d suffered through, forcing her smile and well-wishes, secretly resenting her sister for not only her too-tight maid-of-honor dress selection, but for marrying the only man Hattie had ever loved.
Of course in retrospect, Hattie knew she hadn’t loved Mason, but crushed on him. Daydreamed of him holding her, kissing her, declaring it had never been Melissa he’d wanted, but her. Now that Melissa was dead, the mere thought of those traitorous longings made her feel dirty and disrespectful.
Melissa was—had been—the bronzed beauty every guy wanted. For as long as she could remember, Hattie battled jealousy and resentment she’d never wanted, but seemed to have always carried. When Melissa destroyed Mason by cheating on him, well, Hattie had secretly sided with him in believing her own sister heartless and cruel. Years later, when Melissa struggled to conceive, Hattie’s guilt doubled for believing her sister’s infertility was karma paying a call.
Now that Melissa was dead, self-loathing consumed Hattie for not only all of that, but not being able to cry. Since the accident, she’d been the strong one, shielding her parents from the painful process of burying their perfect child, their pretty child, the one their Inuit mother had called piujuq—beautiful.
From outside came the clang of someone mounting the trailer’s metal steps. Seconds later, the door was tugged open. Mason ducked as he entered, brushing snow from his dark hair. He still wore his jeans and boots, but had added an ivory cable-knit sweater that made his blue eyes all the more striking. For a moment, Hattie fell speechless. Then she remembered she wasn’t seeing Mason for a happy reunion, but the reading of her sister’s will.
Her parents, still holding tight to their resentment over the divorce—and especially his attendance at an intimate family moment such as the reading of Melissa’s will—barely acknowledged his presence.
“Am I late?” He checked his black Luminox watch, the kind she’d seen on divers around town. Certain times of year, Conifer was a bustling port.
“W-we’re early.” She struggled knowing what to do with her hands. “Alec’s parents should be here soon, so Benton said to let him know when we’re all ready.”
“Sure.” Mason shoved his hands in his pockets.
And then they waited.
No one said a word. Aside from wind gusts and papery whispers of Reader’s Digest pages being turned, all in the cramped space had fallen silent. Thank goodness Hattie’s racing thoughts and pulse had no volume or everyone would know the extent of her panic. For years, she’d dreamed of a reunion with Mason, but never under these circumstances.
Twenty minutes passed with still no sign of Alec’s parents.
A muffled landline rang in Benton’s office, then came a brief, equally muffled conversation.
“Look,” Mason said, “if you all don’t mind, I’d just as soon get started. I can’t imagine what Melissa would’ve left me. The whole thing’s bizarre.”
“Agreed,” Hattie’s father said, also rising, offering his hand to his wife. Akna and Lyle led the way down the short hall leading to Benton’s office.
Before Lyle had reached the door, Benton opened it. “Good, you’re all here.” He waved Akna and Lyle into the room. “That was Taylor and Cindy on the phone. They’re not going to make it.”
“Everything all right?” Lyle asked.
“As well as can be expected.”
While her parents and Benton made polite conversation, Hattie hung back with Mason. He made the formerly smallish space feel cramped. She needed to get away from him. And take time to process what losing her sister really meant.
“Ladies first.” He gestured for her to lead the way, which was the last thing she wanted. She felt most comfortable in jeans and a roomy sweatshirt. Her black slacks and plum sweater clung in all the wrong places and she’d never wished more for a ponytail holder to hold her long hair from her face.
The graying lawyer greeted them at the door, shaking their hands. “Damn sorry about all this. Melissa and Alec were good people.”
Really? The weight of what her sister and Mason’s former best friend had done hung heavy in the room.
Her parents had already been seated.
Mason cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be rude, but can we get on with this?”
Hattie sympathized with what he must be going through. Just as she had guilt, he must harbor anger. Granted, Mason had left Conifer years ago and his absence no doubt tempered the initial sting of finding his wife in bed with his best friend, but there wasn’t a statute of limitations on that sort of thing. Hattie couldn’t imagine how Mason now felt regarding the lovebirds’ sudden deaths.
Benton’s office could’ve been featured on a special episode of Hoarders. Stacks upon stacks of files leaned precariously on every available surface.
Behind his desk, Benton shuffled through three more leaning piles. He tugged one out, only to have the whole pile follow in a paper-work avalanche. “Oops.” He flashed them all a reassuring smile. “Happens all the time. Give me a sec, and we’ll be back on course. Hattie, Mason, please, have a seat.”
Mason knelt to assist with the cleanup.
Normally, Hattie would’ve helped, too, but at the moment, she lacked the strength.
“There we go,” Benton finally said, reassembling the file he’d previously held. “Thanks, Mason.”
“No problem.”
“All right, then, let’s skip formalities and get right to the meat of the matter.”
“Perfect.” Lyle took Akna’s hand.
Hattie wished for someone to comfort her.
Two additional padded folding chairs faced Benton’s desk. Mason sat in the one nearest the window.
Hattie took the other.
To Hattie, Benton said, “Having Vivian and Vanessa changed your sister—softened
