Page 8 of For Better or Hearse
Ash laughs. Of course he does.
The annoying chime of her phone blares from her purse. A warning from her continuous glucose monitor, or CGM, that her blood sugar is either high or low.
“Sugar, my dear?”
“Nope.” She swirls a finger. “Not yet. Keep trucking.”
They continue their trek through the terminal. Ash resumes her debrief.
“Delaney. Baby of the family. Only granddaughter. Actress of slasher films. If she offers to give me a tarot reading, I am to politely decline.” Ash rattles off the details, ingrained in memory, for this two-week vacation.
With a nod, Augustus puts a gentle hand on her elbow and stops her, pulling her into a nook near a water fountain. “Listen, Ash. I love my family. But they are like sharks. When one of them takes a bite out of you, the rest of them can smell it.”
Ash fights the swell of anxiety rising inside her. What is she walking into? God, what if they’re the Firefly family?
She shakes off the thought. It’s only two weeks. And it’s for Augustus. She can survive almost anything.
“I will be on guard,” she says. “But I will also be on my bullshit.”
Augustus cackles. “That’s why I like you, Ash. You sting.”
“Oh good,” she huffs, fighting with the strap of her carry-on. “I love being likened to a swarm of wasps.”
The older man’s expression drops into melancholy. He steps closer and grips her shoulder with a firm hand. “This is my last chance, Ash. To make sure they’re okay.” His voice softens. “Because how can I leave this earthly plane without doing everything I can to protect them?”
The words are said with such a sad caress of longing that it makes her heart ache.
She sees this a lot. The end-of-life wrap-up. It’s human nature.Fix regrets. Mend bridges. Get things in order so that the dying feel some semblance of control, no matter how small.
Which is where Hawaii comes in.
For once, Augustus has nothing on his calendar—no medical tests, procedures or treatments—and he scheduled the trip to fit between his six-week chemo appointments.
Augustus, a developer of boutique hotels studded across the West Coast, has arranged for his family, as well as Ash, to visit each of the resorts he’s built in Hawaii. One last vacation before he gets too sick to enjoy it. And she’s to act as a kind of mediator between him and his estranged family.
Augustus arches his craggy brows and sighs. “We’re loud, Ash. Loud in love, loud in anger. For the last few years, it’s been decibel levels. And not in the good way.” He looks at her, pleading. “I need to see us all together. One last time.”
A wave of softness hits her in the gut, but she refuses to get emotional. At least until the end. She takes her vibes from her clients. If they want her to rail and sob and curse the world, she will. If they need her to be a hard-ass, to be unaffected and stoic, she can do that too.
It’s why she’s good at this.
Only with Augustus, she’s not ready.
Augustus isn’t either.
She squeezes his hand. “You will. We’re going to see your hotels, have a fucking party and wrangle your family.”
His lips part. The mournful look gone. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, my dear.”
They begin to move again. Up ahead, the baggage claim beckons. A voice over the loudspeaker reminds travelers that suitcases and strangers don’t mix.
“Oh, and I forgot to tell you,” Augustus booms. “My oldest grandson will be joining us. It was touch and go for a while there, but he was finally able to get time off work.”
“The more the merrier,” Ash adds. As he should. What kind of monster can’t take work off for his grandfather’s last trip?
“Don’t tell anyone.” Augustus’s voice is jovial. “But he’s my favorite. Even if he is a doctor who works too much.”
“Favorite. Doctor. Noted.” She nods. Logs the info away in case she needs an adversary. Or a tourniquet.