“You think I have my shit together, Joe?” I laughed, it was so high pitched I almost sounded like a hyena. “If you only knew. Yes, I stayed and worked in the diner to help keep this place running but I was lost and I did my share of fucking up. Look, I am not blaming you for feeling shitty or taking off, all I am asking is that you don’t forget me. You are all I have now,” I said sadly as I took a mug out of the cabinet. I dipped the tea in the cup and walked it over to Joe.

Joe looked at me with his droopy eyes. “I know, Vick, I’m sorry but that’s why I came home, we have to face this mess together.”

“I know, Joe,” I said walking over to the cabinet to make myself a tea.

“Hey you two,” Marie, my mom’s best friend, walked into the kitchen looking pale. She was about forty years old with shoulder length auburn hair and warm brown eyes.

She came in embraced Joe in a hug then she walked around the counter and gave me a warm hug too. She had been like a mother to us since our mother died. She knew my mother better than anyone.

“You cleaned the house didn’t you?” I asked with an accusing smile.

“Yes, hon, the place was a wreck. I didn’t want you walking into that. I have set things up with the Mueller Funeral Home. The wake will begin tomorrow and the funeral will be held on Saturday,” she explained.

“Thanks so much for taking care of things, Marie, do you know what happened?” I asked, wanting to know how Papa died.

“I’m not certain. Hal came in here to check on him. At first he thought he was just passed out, but then he didn’t have a pulse. Hal called me and we called the paramedics. They came to take him and said it may have been a heart attack. He was probably drinking too much and not eating enough….” Her voice drifted off sadly and she got a faraway look on her face. “Oh, kids, I’m so sorry. We can’t judge his choices though. We all deal differently with grief…” she paused holding her hand over her heart while she stared at us through teary eyes. “If you kiddos need anything just holler. I better get home,” she said, giving my shoulder a light squeeze as she looked at me sympathetically. I hated that look; it reminded me of when Mama died. People in this town stared at me with sad droopy eyes for almost two years. It’s part of the reason I finally felt like I had to get away.

I followed her out to the front door. She knew the reasons for my trip. “He’s really nice,” I whispered to her. She knew I was talking about my biological dad back in New York.

She put a hand up to her heart. “I’m happy for you, baby girl,” she grinned.

“Thanks, Marie,” I said quietly then I turned to step back inside the house. My brother was perceptive and I didn’t want him asking questions, at least not yet. As I made my way up to my room, Joe followed behind me and went to his old room. Being home didn’t feel right. It was depressing. Joe and I would have to decide what we were going to do with this place. The happy place it had once been was part of a different lifetime, now the place held only sad memories. It was the place that both my parents lost their lives.

I went to go lie down on my old bed. With my cell phone in my hand, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at the screen hoping Luc had come to his senses, but there were no missed calls or voice messages. Lying back on the bed made me feel nauseous and the back of my throat burned like fire. As a bout of nausea hit me hard, I ran into the bathroom and heaved over the toilet until clear liquid came out of me. My stomach was empty; I had nothing to get rid of.

Joe came running out of his room and stopped at the bathroom door. “Are you okay, Vick?” he asked with his brows drawn together.

“Yeah, I don’t know, I guess this is too much for me, and I haven’t eaten anything…”I trailed off as I got to my feet.

“I’ll go get you water. I don’t think there’s any food in the house. We may have to go pick something up,” he suggested.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied. I didn’t want to worry him, but I was feeling run down and the bout of vomiting did nothing to curb my nausea. Joe and I both got ready in our rooms. When I looked in the mirror, I realized how pale I looked. I wasn’t hungry but I didn’t want to worry him more. My phone began to ring and I was hoping it would be Luc, but Bryce’s name lit up the screen.

“Hello,” I whispered.

“Hi, Vicky, I just wanted to make sure you got home safely and that everything was okay.”

“Yes, Bryce thank you so much for letting me use your jet, you were right I made it back quickly. Now I won’t miss anything, the wake begins tomorrow and the funeral is on Saturday,” I explained sadly. Saying the words hit home and made everything seem more real.

“I’m sorry I am not there with you, Vicky, I wish I could be,” he sighed.

“It’s okay, Bryce, I appreciate your kindness.” I smiled and I really meant those words.

“Ah, Vicky? Have you heard from Luc? I know you guys work closely together….”

“No, I haven’t,” I lied. It made me feel bad that I was lying to him. Bryce knew about Luc’s past, but it didn’t feel right to tell him now that I had found Luc in a drunken mess.

“Alright then, you take care.”

“Thanks, bye.”

“Bye, Vicky,” he replied and the conversation ended.

I couldn’t help but worry about Luc. Something was very wrong to push him over the edge. I raked my brain considering what could have pushed him over the edge that way, when a light went off in my head. He told me that he began to fall apart in the past when his family put him under pressure, and that’s when he started to drink. Was it the case now? His family must have contacted him. I wondered what they wanted, and why he couldn’t be open with me, instead of pushing me away. Maybe my suspicions were only that, maybe he didn’t care about me and I was trying to make excuses for him. I wasn’t sure. I felt tired, nauseous, and overwhelmed.

I met Joe at the front door. “What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

“Um, I don’t know,” I replied as we made our way to the old Tracker sitting in the driveway. I hoped it had gas in it. “Fast food works for me, how about McDonald’s?” I suggested.

As Joe backed out of the driveway, he stopped the car and scrunched his nose. “You are going to eat McDonald’s?” he asked with surprise.

“Yeah, I feel like a Big Mac,” I replied, surprising myself. Maybe this was me needing to do some emotional eating. It was either a Big Mac or drowning myself in toffee ice cream.

“McDick’s it is,” Joe replied with a grin and shaking his head.

***

The drive to McDonald’s was quiet and we both sat quietly eating our meal. I devoured the Big Mac in less than five minutes as Joe stared at me wide eyed. I had never been a big eater and never a big meat eater, so the fact that I was indulging in a double burger was definitely odd, but I was sad and this was what I felt like doing. In the past, I would head to Ed’s a bar at the edge of town where I met Nessa. I would either drown myself in a cheap form of liquor or we would hit the party scene in Toronto. None of those options appealed to me now.

On the drive back home, I started to feel that same burning sensation making its way up my throat.

“Joe, pull over,” I demanded.

“What?” He looked at me as if I lost it.

“Joe, pull over I think I am going to be sick,” I said holding my hand over my mouth. The thought of puking in the car didn’t sit well with me.

As Joe swerved the car off to the side of the road; I threw my door open and jumped out of the car, hurling my guts out. “Shit, Vick, what the hell is wrong with you?” Joe asked with the same brotherly concern he had earlier.

“I must have a stomach bug or maybe it’s my nerves eating away at me over the wake tomorrow. I’m dreading it. Isn’t the thought of going back to that funeral home driving you crazy?” As I let out a breath I realized that my voice was shrill. I was coming undone and the thought alone terrified me.