Page 167 of For Better or Hearse

“I will.” She holds his handsome face, her heart aching for him. “Of course I will.”

He dips his head to kiss her palm. “Thank you,” he says, blinking back the silver in his eyes. “For being there for him. And for me.”

He picks her up in his arms, buries his face in her hair and lets out a shuddering breath. His gratefulness seeps through his tight hug and into her. “I love you,” he whispers, and the only sound after that is Ash’s thundering heart.

Augustus lives in the heart of Beverly Hills. An enchanting little stucco cottage covered in vines with prime views of the Hollywood hills. Earlier today, she gave a cemetery tour and then put the finishing touches on her website. While she worked, Nathaniel went with Augustus to the hospital to discuss in-home hospice plans.

Now they plan to have one last lunch before Nathaniel leaves for theSophia Marie.

Ash shuts her car door and jogs up the hill. This is the best part about being here. Walking straight into Augustus’s house. No knock, no doorbell, just home.

Inside, it’s an homage to all of the man’s travels. Photos of the places he’s been and the people he’s met line the walls. Thailand. Vegas. South Africa.

Augustus comes around the corner. “Ash!”

“Hi,” she says, dropping her backpack with the goodies she brought on the foyer table.

She enfolds Augustus in a hug. He smells like lemons and thyme, fragrant herbs from his garden out back. “I brought whiskey,” she says, pulling away.

His eyes twinkle. “I made tea.”

Nathaniel appears then, stepping through the back door.

“How was it?” she asks, giving him a soft smile.

“It’s done.” He sets a tray of charcuterie on the table. “We arranged hospice. When the time comes, they’re ready.”

She reads so much in his face. Concern, worry, but also resignation and that stoic calm she’s come to love.

“How long?”

“Six months.”

A knot of sadness rises in her throat. It’s a harsh reminder that Augustus isn’t infallible.

As if he reads everything on her face, Nathaniel slides a broad palm down her arm, squeezes. Ash blinks back tears.

Fuck. She’s too damn attached. To everyone.

Augustus tuts. “None of that.”

They eat in the garden. A simple meal of meats and cheeses and veggies. Whiskey and wine. Afterward, they go inside and spin records. The Beach Boys. The Bee Gees. Ash sits on the huge green sofa and plays chess with Augustus.

“I’m determined to beat him,” she tells Nathaniel.

He looks on with an amused expression, silent.

She can’t help but grin. “Just once.”

Augustus guffaws. “Just wait until the old brain is rotting. Then it’ll be easy to take advantage of me.”

She rolls her eyes. “You cannot play that card.”

Nathaniel settles beside her. A wide smile breaks across his face. Then he’s squinting, just like Augustus does when he’s pondering a deep thought. Smirking, he taps her rook. “You have to tighten it up, Bigfoot. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

She elbows him. “Hush. Let me lose in peace.”

Chuckling, he clutches her thigh with one enormous paw. Squeezes.