Love Life & Circumstance (4 page)

“Sorry Eli, I just can’t believe he’s gone. I was just about to come over to your place. Maisey’s cooked up a storm since she heard. But first, I need to talk to you about the accident. The State Troopers are investigating, but I’m leading up the enquiry on our involvement. Thought you’d at least want to know what happened; as much as I know of it anyway. Where are you now?” The chief’s voice wavered, but he managed to hold back his outpouring of emotion.

“I’m just on my way to Devereux’s now, sir. Turned in to get myself a cup of coffee in the hope it’ll wake me up some. I’m still kinda waiting for this nightmare to end, but I know it ain’t coming. I’ll probably be up at Devereux’s a while if you’d like to meet me there. And sir, I want whoever was responsible for this to pay, and pay dear. He was all the family I had left.” Elijah couldn’t help the curt tone of his voice.

“I understand, Eli. Rest assured the guilty party has paid, dearly. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Go on ahead, and I’ll wait for you to sort through the proceedings.” When the phone went dead, Elijah sat alone in his truck, his desire for coffee long forgotten. He felt as though someone had ripped his heart from his chest. A horn behind him blared snapping him back to the present. With an apologetic wave though the back glass, he hit the gas and hauled ass out of the parking lot.

Upon arriving at the funeral home, he parked and stared, albeit blankly, at the building before him with a sense of dread he’d only ever felt once before. Christ, he couldn’t believe he was here again after twenty-five years, only this time it was for his dad.

The Devereux family funeral home would have been beautiful except for the business it conducted behind the white washed walls. One of the most beautiful old plantation houses in Headland, it sat atop a long sweeping driveway. The grounds slopped off at the back where those that needed time alone could walk the grounds, or take a seat on one of the many benches scattered around the extensive gardens. He knew because that’s exactly what he’d done, the last time he’d been here.

The memory of seeing his mama laid out in her coffin amongst a backdrop of ivory silk was as fresh to him now as it was at the age of ten. He didn’t handle it then, and Elijah wasn’t too sure he could handle it now. It didn’t matter that he was thirty-five years old. The only difference between his mama’s death and his dad’s; he was an adult, and he couldn’t run and hide, however much he wanted to.

He palmed his phone noting the missed calls from the guys that worked for him and his dad and the various texts from people wanting to know if he was ok. He knew by the time he got home there’d be a steady stream of visitors wanting to pass on their well-meant condolences.

Elijah had just taken the first step toward the huge white house when the double doors swung open and Rhett Devereux, Jr., glided through to greet him. The only son of Rhett, Sr., the younger Rhett looked nothing like his daddy. Where Devereux Senior was tall, skinny and possessed all of the haunted features that made him scarier than hell as the local undertaker, his son was the polar opposite. The solemn look he wore was due to the professional nature of his job, but Elijah knew Rhett better, having been the man’s best friend since junior high. Rhett Jr. was shorter than his daddy and definitely not scary as he took Elijah’s hand and pulled his old friend into a full on man hug.

“Anything you need, Eli, anything at all, just say the word and it’s yours.” Rhett left his hand on Elijah’s arm and leaned in to press his lips against Elijah’s cheek. The forward display of affection was common place with Rhett. He’d always been overly tactile around Elijah, not that Eli cared. Rhett was a good friend and knew Elijah swung both ways. Hell, they’d doubled up on the ladies more than once and got a little carried away around each other on the odd occasion. But, it had all been just fun, and Elijah was fine with it.

“Thanks Rhett. I’m so glad you’re here; I have no clue what to do.”  Elijah placed an arm across the smaller man’s shoulders and let his long-time friend lead him into the funeral home.

“You let me worry about what has to be done, Eli. All I need you to do is pick whatever casket you want and your own choice on the floral display. Pastor Dukes is coming in day after tomorrow. He knew ya daddy well…I think we all did. Growing up here, everyone feels a sense of loss when one of our own is taken. Dukes will be presiding over both burials. We’ll be receiving Pastor Deacon later today. We’re placing him in the largest of our chapels due to the response we’ve had already concerning his death.”

Elijah slowed as they passed one of the open consultation rooms and frowned. “News sure as hell travels fast around here, Rhett. Hold on…both burials? Was someone else killed too?” Elijah voiced as they passed a man sitting with his head bowed inside the funeral director’s main office. The moment they approached, Elijah wished he’d kept his voice down. The man looked up at them from bloodshot eyes that reflected an immense sense of loss.

Rhett’s hand to his back led Elijah forward; however, there was something familiar about the man in the office. Elijah struggled to place him. It was only as they turned to enter Devereux’s main office that Elijah looked back and remembered where he’d seen that face. It belonged to the man from the bathroom and waiting room; the very same one that had walked through the emergency room doors with Elijah to receive his own heartbreaking news. And now, he was here alone and facing the same daunting task as Elijah, burying a loved one, taken away well before their time.

Rhett proved himself an invaluable friend and professional, as Elijah tried to imagine what his father’s preferences would be. In the end, he settled for a maple wood casket lined with royal blue silk and a blanket of white Calla lilies, his mama’s favorite bloom, to adorn the top of the casket. With all the necessities set into place, Elijah leaned back against the high back leather chair, feeling tight in the chest as though he could hardly draw in air.

“I’m here if you need me, Eli, anything at all. I meant what I said.” Rhett’s thoughtful drawl was like warm bourbon as his friend offered him a hand and pulled him from the chair.

“Thanks, Rhett. I’ll call later if I think of anything else, that’s if I haven’t drowned in pie.” Elijah half moaned; he knew they’d be waiting for him once he got home, but first there was Chief Bussey to see. He’d be glad when the day was over, and he’d be alone and left with his own thoughts and maybe a bottle of good ole Southern Comfort.

Elijah walked out of the office and came face to face with the same grieving man, but before he could say anything, Rhett pulled Elijah in hard against his chest and lay a warm wet kiss straight to his lips. Startled by such an open display of affection from his predominantly straight friend, Elijah didn’t pull away. Truth was; he felt so damned low that being held was something he needed right about then.

With a ruffle to Rhett’s immaculately groomed hair when he pulled away, Elijah made his way outside to where Chief Bussey leaned against the hood of his car. Turning as he closed the door to Devereux’s funeral home, Elijah’s gaze met the glacial stare of the brooding dark haired man.

The man’s hair fell loose around his shoulders, unkempt and slightly array, but then, when you’d been hit by death’s curve ball, you didn’t really give a shit about how you looked. As he stood there staring, the man seemed to fall in on himself, his eyes closed and his shoulders hunched when Rhett Devereux, Sr. finally made an appearance and led him away. Who was he? Who else had died in Headland the day before?

Elijah thought he knew most of the people in the town where he’d grown up and lived all of his life. His thoughts and questions were cut off mid-flow when Chief Bussey’s radio squawked to life and filled Elijah with a new sense of dread. He was about to be given the cold hard facts on how his dad died. Elijah needed the truth, needed to hear the reasoning behind why his dad died.

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CHAPTER SIX

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Seated in the office of the Devereux funeral home, Seth flipped through the notebook in his lap. Sadly, as he reviewed the doves and crosses and bits of poetry, he realized he’d lost touch with Bethany. Prior to the death of their parents, they’d been like peas in a pod, totally in sync. A half smile ghosted across his face. They’d even shared the same taste in ‘hot’ boys in their high school. But, where Bethany had been free to pursue them, he’d had to admire from a distance. Many nights, she’d ranted and raved at him to come out, to put himself out there. She hated he hid his sexuality and hated even more the prejudicial bent of their small community.

His heart pounded in his chest as he remembered the night she’d asked him if he was gay. He’d never even admitted it to himself much less anyone else, but with her eyes staring into his soul, he’d confessed. Bethany had held him as he cried, ashamed of what he was. She’d been so firm with him and refused to let him wallow.

“You are who you are Seth Jacobs. You like boys. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s the world that’s wrong. I’ll always be here for you, and when you decide to come out, I’ll rip the shit out of anyone who hurts you.” Her strident girlish voice echoed in his head and fresh tears stung his eyes. She had been there with him every step of the way. She’d fought for him, too, just as she’d promised. She sported that first black eye proudly, beating the hell out of the head cheerleader in front of the entire school. Seth suffered the teasing of having a girl defend him while she sat at home during a three day suspension, but inside he beamed. She loved him, and he loved her. She’d been hell on wheels even in those days. In the end, he’d let her down, turned a blind eye when she needed him the most.

The young Devereux shot to his feet startling Seth from his thoughts and his abject review of the death announcements. He watched the man hustle out of the door without any explanation.

“You’ll have to excuse my son. Elijah Deacon has been his best friend since they were boys. His father was killed yesterday by a drunk ahhh…” The older man stuttered to a stop. He blinked at the almost slip. “Let me get the other brochures for you.” The older man disappeared through a side door leaving Seth alone in the ornate office. Edgy and wanting to be anywhere other than the funeral home, he stood and paced to the foyer.

After leaving the hospital the night before, he’d watched the local news. He knew that Bethany’s best friend had been driving and had been only slightly hurt in the wreck. She’d been released as soon as her injuries were treated. Countless times he’d picked up the phone to call her, to find out what the hell they’d been doing drunk so early in the day. He needed answers, but his emotions hovered too close to the surface. The girl was already traumatized, two people were dead. He’d gone to bed, and for the first time since he was a puppy, he’d allowed Rocky onto the bed with him. While he’d cried, Rocky licked away the tears, whining in sympathy.

Voices filtered through from the front porch. Seth glanced out and did a double take. The man at Rhett, Jr.’s side towered over him. A thickly muscled arm rested on the funeral attendant’s shoulders. The connection between the two men clearly obvious in the easy way they moved together. Lovers? The thought flashed through Seth’s mind. Surely not. They entered the building and briefly blazing blue eyes clashed with his.  They seemed to see straight into his soul. The grief he felt mirrored in the azure depths.

Recognition came slowly, his mind fogged by his sister’s death. The ER, Dr. Butler, the news report; this man’s father had been killed by his sister and her best friend. He dropped his gaze and turned his back. Guilt crashed down on his shoulders. He should find another funeral home. Of course, the son of a local pastor would use the local funeral home. He chastised himself for being insensitive. He took a step in the direction of the front entrance. A throat cleared behind him, and he glanced back to see the elder Devereux holding a bound book.

“If you’ll come this way sir, we can make your arrangements.”

Seth’s shoulders sagged.

“Maybe, I should…,” he glanced to where Rhett and the other man stood. “It might be better if I use another funeral home. I don’t want to intrude or cause further pain to the other family.” Seth tucked his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders, completely uncomfortable. “I’m sorry to have taken up your time.”

“Mr. Jacobs, there is no reason for you to leave. I’ve known Elijah since he was a boy. He won’t blame you for something that was not your fault.” The elderly man’s voice was low and soothing when he spoke. Seth drew his gaze up from the floor to meet kind brown eyes. “And it wasn’t your fault, Mr. Jacobs. Families are often left to deal with the complications of the dead, but it doesn’t mean you shoulder any blame. You have the right to grieve the same as Elijah, and I shall tell him the same thing if he voices any objections.”

Seth searched the other man’s eyes and finally nodded. “Okay then, as long as you’re sure the Deacon family will be okay.”

“There’s only Elijah now. His mama, God rest her soul, died twenty-five years ago yesterday. We did her funeral as well. Awful time, so sudden. Chamberlain and Elijah were lost souls,” Devereux stopped speaking and shook his head. “I’m sorry. Usually, I have a bit more sensitivity.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s see to your sister’s arrangements shall we.”

Seth glanced across the foyer again at the tall man. He was alone, too, no family to ease the ache that had to consume him as it did Seth. Emotion coiled hot in Seth’s stomach as he turned to follow Mr. Devereux. With a heavy heart, he forced his feet to move. Casket, flowers, announcements, death certificates, visitation, all of it ran together in Seth’s head.
Oh God Bethany, I don’t know if I can do this.

An hour after he’d arrived, he returned to the foyer with a sheaf of papers in his hand. As he debated whether to return home to feed Rocky or return to the hospital to check on the baby, he heard the office door on the opposite side of the foyer open.