Hot Sauce (Suncoast Society #26)(12)

In retrospect, the macabre conversation Vanessa had with Tony during that road trip to the Smokey Mountains had been productive. It’d started out as a hypothetical discussion when they’d happened upon on old country graveyard next to a dilapidated church. Some of the markers had been from the mid-1800s and even earlier. They’d pulled into the grassy area next to it to stop for lunch and let Carlo stretch his legs.

“I want to be cremated, FYI,” he’d said.

“That’s a weird tangent.”

He’d swept his hand, indicating the cemetery. “Think anyone comes to visit their graves? Think anyone even remembers who they are?”

In fact, while it looked like the property received periodic mowing, there were no fresh flowers present. Not even fairly recent headstones, from the looks of them.

“Why take up the resources?” he’d said. “I’d rather be cremated. Then you can do what you want with me. Scatter me, or put me in an urn you’d like to look at and set me on a shelf so you can have me close by. Let’s be honest—I won’t be around to care one way or another.”

That had led to the discussion. Cremation, a small, intimate private service for her and their parents and close friends, and then later his other friends and coworkers could have whatever kind of memorial gathering they wanted to throw in his memory.

Vanessa now wondered if maybe he’d been waiting for an opportunity to have exactly that discussion with her, and the circumstances had presented the perfect opening. If she wasn’t getting the dates wrong, he’d reworked his will only weeks earlier with his attorney, before they’d left for the road trip.

She hadn’t really given much thought, before that day, to the disposition of herself and her own estate. But Tony had recommended Ed Payne and his services, so she’d also had a will drawn up. Yes, with a house and car of her own, and her retirement account and life insurance policy, she did have “assets” and should have some way of protecting them. She’d listed Tony as her executor, her parents as back-ups.

Never in her life had she thought she’d ever be leaving stuff to her parents.

Another change I need to have made, make them the beneficiaries of everything.

One more morbid item on the growing to-do list from hell.

A list she was quickly growing to despise with a passion.

Does it ever get easier?

No, not even a week yet since his death, and it still didn’t feel real. As she settled into her new normal, she knew on an intellectual level that, eventually, she would come to terms with it.

Passing that message to her heart and soul at this time, however, was getting nothing but a fast-busy tone or a “this voice mail account is full” message in reply.

Trying to break this down into bite-sized pieces she could handle, she focused on her immediate need—scrambling a couple of eggs for breakfast before she puked her guts up.

She glanced down at Carlo and fished him a cookie out of his Batman cookie jar.

A jar Tony had bought for him because he’d loved it. A jar his ex wouldn’t let him buy when he’d wanted to, saying it was a waste of money and counter space to spend it on a dog.

Kneeling next to the dog, she cradled his head in her hands after he’d scarfed down the cookie.

“You’re not allowed to die on me. Got it?”

He licked her nose in reply, his tail wagging.





Chapter Five


Vanessa knew going through Tony’s laptop would be a chore in and of itself. Facebook, Twitter, his e-mail contacts—she almost didn’t want to do it but knew it had to happen. So after puttering around the house Wednesday and doing chores, delaying the inevitable, trying to keep her mind off her current new sucky reality, and talking on the phone with her mom, who was checking to make sure she was okay, Vanessa finally got Tony’s laptop late in the afternoon and curled up on the sofa with Carlo.

It had. To. Be. Done.

Just like she’d have to deal with his car sitting in her driveway. Not counting Carlo, or Tony’s bank and retirement accounts, it was the only “possession” he’d had, other than things like clothes and some furniture. Now that she’d read through the journal, she realized why he’d lost everything in the divorce.

Tony hadn’t lost everything. In the divorce, he’d given it to Kelly as a sort of penance, letting her think she was “taking” him as a result.

It’d been his plan the entire time, a way for him to feel like he’d helped make things right for her in the only way he could. Not to mention a way for him to divest himself of “stuff,” as he’d said it. To lighten his load physically as well as emotionally and mentally. Including stuff Kelly had bought that he’d hated but tolerated because he thought it was what people were supposed to do when they were married.

He was no longer tied down, other than to Carlo and Vanessa.

Dealing with contacting Tony’s work about his death had been bad enough. Vanessa had let her friend, Jenny, make the call to Kelly. Jenny had been texting and calling Vanessa multiple times a day since the funeral, checking in with her, but…

It wasn’t the same. Jenny was her friend, a sweetheart, and someone she enjoyed spending time with. But Jenny also had a life of her own to live, a boyfriend.

Ironically, Jenny and her boyfriend, Ken, had been friends of Tony’s first, which was how Vanessa had met and befriended them.