Open Doors (Suncoast Society #27)(28)

He pulled a pill bottle out of his messenger bag, opened it, shook one small, peach-colored pill into his palm, and then rose and headed over to the water cooler.

“Xanax?” Tony asked.

“Fuckin’-A, it is. Want one?”

Tony smiled and did his best Bones McCoy imitation. “Dammit, Ed. You’re a lawyer, not a pharmacist.”

Ed nearly choked on his water as he started laughing. “Shit, man. I wish I could be popping these things like Pez, but I have to remain functioning.”

“In all seriousness, how are you doing?”

Ed sighed, staring into his cup. “Xanax,” he said, without a trace of humor. “And once Kaden finally gives me a break, and I can sit down and take about two weeks off, I plan on spending most of it in bed or on the couch. Probably curled up in a fetal position.” He finished his cup of water. “But for now, I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“Me, too. Kaden would keep it for us,” Tony quietly said.

“Yep,” Ed agreed.” He looked up at Tony. “I’m sorry, but the next time someone—and I don’t give a shit if it’s someone I love dearly—asks me if I’ll do them a favor after they die, I’m going to flat tell them no.”

Ed’s focus returned to the cup in his hand. “I thought he wanted me to handle his estate, or help Seth with the funeral arrangements. I didn’t know Kaden had a whole goddamned year’s worth of stuff planned.”

“A year?” Then again, Tony thought about the envelope he now had stashed in his safe deposit box. One Kaden had given to him several months back.

One Kaden had told him he wanted Tony to give Leah and Seth as soon as possible after the one-year anniversary of his passing.

“Not a whole year’s worth,” Ed clarified. “Immediately, just a few weeks of work, to get mostly Seth through things while Seth focuses on keeping Leah alive. Then there are some benchmark dates where I have to give them—give Seth—stuff. And a couple that will likely be more than a year away. Like the first Halloween party they host after he passes, things like that.”

“Ah.”

They fell silent for a moment.

“I thought he was exaggerating,” Tony quietly said. “I thought he was just being a worry-wort. His usual control-freak self.”

Ed nodded. “Me, too.”

Tony walked over to one of the chairs and sat. “I thought Leah would do her usual job of kicking ass and, yes, mourn, but be okay eventually, once she got past the worst of it. It’s not like this was unexpected. She had over a year to prepare herself. I thought she’d be okay.”

Ed shook his head. “So did I, but no, not so much. I realize now Kaden was right. If it hadn’t been for Seth…” He frowned, seeming to puzzle it over, how he wanted to say it. “If it hadn’t been for Seth,” he continued, “we would have lost her by now. I’m sure of it. It would have been a double funeral. Our backs would have been turned for a minute, or we would have thought she was asleep and we would have left the room, or something. She would have convinced us to leave her alone, that she was okay, even for a couple of hours.”

Tony slowly nodded. “Yep. Don’t think I haven’t already thought that a bunch of times.”

That had been one of Kaden’s most strident requests, especially over the last few weeks before his death.

“Do not leave her alone. Whatever you do, not for a single goddamned second—not to go to the bathroom, not when you think she’s sound asleep. Someone always needs to watch her, at least for the first week or two, and especially over the first several days after, until she marries Seth. If you don’t do that, if you don’t keep an eye on her at all times, bad things will happen. Don’t give her a second alone.”

“I’m glad he insisted,” Tony said. “Because I really didn’t believe him.”

“Hell, I’ve known her for damn near twenty years, and I didn’t believe him. How do you think I feel? If it’d been up to me? If he hadn’t put all this together? I wouldn’t have known. I’d have closed the bedroom door to let her sleep, or have run home late that night, and I’d have come back to check on her and probably found her dead.”

“Yep,” Tony quietly said. “That’s exactly what would have happened. Just like that next morning, in the kitchen.”

Tony couldn’t get the spooky memory out of his head, the one of the morning after Kaden’s death, when Leah awoke before Seth and wandered out to the kitchen and stared at the knives in the butcher’s block.

How he’d tensed and prepared to tackle her when she’d reached out toward the knives, hesitating before pulling her hand away and silently mouthing something to herself.

How she’d totally ignored his and Ed’s presence, as if they were ghosts.

How while he followed her outside as she wandered, Ed hurriedly scooped up every sharp implement he could find in the kitchen and ran out the front door to lock them in the trunk of his car before catching up with them and helping Tony keep a close eye on her.

How when they’d returned to the kitchen, she’d gone straight for the butcher’s block again and stared at it, reaching out to touch it.

How she’d looked at him, her accusing gaze meeting his before she closed her eyes and silently wept for a moment, as if she realized her chance had passed. Then she went and sat down at the counter.